The Music of My Life

I grew up in a congregation that was very serious about singing and, in my earlier years, I attended singing and song leading schools. That is because I had preachers who were song writers and also taught at singing schools. My intermediate school principal was also my preacher, a very outgoing and overtly friendly man (in a good way) who was loved by everyone he met. His name was Don Boring, and he wrote a song that made a lifelong impression not only on me but on everyone who learned it. The song was called “Mighty Is the King Of Glory.” Not only are the words inspiring but the tune is contagious. The four-part harmony blends perfectly with each part: Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass all complementing each other. I haven’t heard the song sung in over forty years, but sometimes when I am working in the yard the song will play in my head and I will remember my preacher and principal Don Boring.

Don had been in my hometown of Floresville for nine years and often talked about planting a church in Basalt, Colorado, a small town between Interstate 70 and Aspen. Don didn’t just dream; he made that dream come true. I remember when he, along with his wife Ann and his two kids Todd and DeAnn, said goodbye at a potluck on Sunday morning around 1970. The family left Floresville and successfully started a church in the Rocky Mountains near the Frying Pan Creek. Don also got a job as a school principal in Colorado, and I am certain he was loved as much as he was in my school.

We would get reports in letters from Don and Ann telling us about the growth of the Basalt Church. The letters would be read by Don’s father, Holland Boring, Sr., who became our preacher after Don left. Then one day we got tragic news. One beautiful fall day on September 23, 1972, Don was invited to take a ride through the Rockies to see the fall colors with a friend. Don got on the back of the motorcycle and the headed out. No one is sure what happened, but Don fell off of the back of the motorcycle and died instantly. He was only 37 years old and left a widow and two small children. His body was brought back to Floresville where we had the second of two memorial services, the first being in the town of Basalt. He was buried in the sandy soil of our familiar cemetery where my grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles, and dozens of relatives are buried.

Don’s father, Holland, Sr., and his brother, Holland, Jr., were prolific song writers and conducted singing schools across Texas in places like Portland on the coast where his son, Holland, Jr., preached, in Sabinal, Haskell and on Travis Lake. As I said, his father, Holland, Sr., became our preacher after Don had left. He and his wife had lost a son as a child whose name was Kenneth like mine. He was Don’s brother. The loss of two sons, though years apart, was a lot to bear. I think that is the reason that he decided to make me his progeny and took me to most singing schools he conducted.

Holland, Sr. wrote books full of hymns. The one that sticks with me to this day and still plays in my head is “Dear Jesus, I’m in Love with You.”

Some of the education stuck. In every congregation I have ever been a member I have felt like I was a little better than average as a singer. In a few rare instances I have been the go-to song leader in a small congregation, but in larger congregations I have said, “I don’t mean to brag, but I have been the fifth song leader in a five-leader rotation.” My wife Lori is usually quick to comment, “Fifth song leader in a fourleader rotation.”

At our new congregation in Greenville, Creekside Church of Christ, I have never felt above average because the A Capela singing is some of the best I have ever heard. It is all I can do just to keep up. It is truly inspiring. Not only that, there are at least two accomplished song writers in the congregation, Gary Pendergrass one of our Elders and a worship leader and Aaron Shotts who is also a worship leader. I feel so blessed to be back with a congregation where singing is so special. I attribute a lot of that to a brother I never met, Tillit S. Teddie, who wrote multiple hymns that we still sing to this day. He was the preacher when the congregation at Creekside was on College Street in Greenville. His influence on the congregation is obvious. Being a member at Creekside is like getting back to my childhood, only better.