My father's Conversion Story

This is a blog post I have been meaning to write for some time. It's dear to my heart and influences my life on a daily basis. I will try to express some of the thoughts or feelings my father had in this regard, including some quotes from his personal history, but I know I will fall short. I do hope that this post will in the very least give you a taste of my father's dedication to The Gospel of Jesus Christ.

My father was raised in a devote Southern Baptist home. His mother and father were committed members of their congregation in Georgia and Florida, where my father was born and raised. My father was studying to be a preacher in their church, a vocation that was chosen I wonder, in part because of his physical disabilities.

My father said of his early life, "My mother and father loved us dearly. At one time I would not have said this, but as I have gotten older, I've learned to eat a lot of crow."

My father continued in his personal history, "I believe a story written by an individual about themselves, is generally a little tainted. I will do my best I can to stay within the facts as I know them ..."

 

When my father was was in the womb his mother contracted Rubella. He said of this, "I was very lucky! In the first two trimesters the fetus can have many different birth anomalies-- such as Spina Bifida, blindness, deafness, total retardation, etc. I do not like the term, "defectives." We are not defective-- we are different. My differences are obvious and not so obvious. I have a congenital Amputation of the right hand, a twisting scoliosis of the lumbar spine, and both right and left feet were affected."

 

Despite my father's physical limitations he had an abnormally high IQ and always had his nose in a book. The thing that I miss the most about my father was being able to ask him anything about the Gospel and the scriptures. When I started studying the Old Testament I would go back to my dad's man cave or call him and ask him what different things meant in my studies. He always had an answer that would enlighten, calm, and educate me.

 

My father continued, "My parents were as good as they could be to me and my brothers with the limited knowledge they had back in 1951 about birth-defects in children such as I had...My dear mother. She taught me from day one that I was different, but I was as good as anyone without handicaps of any manner."

"I had a father who taught me to be a man, and that as a man you can do or overcome any obstacle or challenge placed before you. My mother helped soften this fatherly attitude."

My father went on to say that his grandfather, Elisha Morgan Smith, was a Morgan Horse breeder and circuit rider. Elisha also bought and sold tobacco for R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. out of Alabama.

 My father said, "Generally it was a fresh cut green-leaf that the company could cure or whatever they did with the silly stuff. He was also a circuit preacher...I found out recently that Grandpa Burson was a circuit preacher. He had several small congregations throughout South Georgia and Northern Florida. His style of preaching, I'm sure,  would be somewhat "Hellfire and Brimstone."

My father said that his conversion story was a simple one. It all started when he met a girl, Mary. He knew her in high school as a "goody-two-shoes Catholic," but he respected her for her beliefs. He lost track of her after high school and didn't see her again until her was at university studying x-ray technology.

He said, "When I saw her again, the strangest feeling came over me that I had to see her. I met her again and after a few moments, I asked her out. She hesitated. I had a pretty wild past, and she remembered it. She agreed to go out with me with some stipulations. One, I would not smoke my pipe or cigars. I would not curse- and if I did, I was to take her home immediately. AND, absolutely no "getting out of hand."

Well I guess the date wasn't too bad, because Mary invited him to a party...on a Monday night (Mormons know how sneaky Mary was being...bwahaha). At the party my father was introduced to several of Mary's family members and friends. He was also introduced to two young men dressed in the same clothes- white shirts, dark ties, and slacks.

He said, "They had name tags with Elder as the first name- Elder Slausen and Elder Carpenter. They found that I was looking for a church and having a bad experience."

The missionaries told my dad about modern day prophets, seers, and revelators, and about Joseph Smith. My father said, "It made sense to me. They gave me a Book of Mormon and had marked a few scriptures for me to study. After reading them, I was hooked and I knew I was on the right road to the Lord. From that point on, I was given the lessons and was ready for baptism."

"On July 22, 1971 the ordinances were completed; this happens to be my parents' anniversary. The elders and I were invited to the meal and party. You never turn down food in the Deep South. As we were sitting and pigging out, my little brother, Rick, was cracking up. I was resting my feet on a box in the middle of the table. I read the inscription on the box, "In loving memory of our son, Lew." All this just because I had become a Latter Day Saint."

After my father's passing I asked my mother if he ever slipped up. I asked if he ever relapsed and drank alcohol or smoked, etc., after joining the church. She said that as far as she could recollect, he never had. One time shortly after he joined he took a drink of alcohol without thinking, but other than that he never slipped up.

My Nana and Papa did not support my father's decision to become a Mormon. They did not attend my parents wedding reception (my parents were married in the Oakland Temple in Oakland, California, and they met at BYU, but that's another story for another time). They were not happy about my father being damned, moving to Utah, then marrying a Mormon and moving to California- how surprising.

When my oldest brother, Josh, was born my father said, "All was forgiven! My mom still made comments...(and) dad was still touchy."

"When I had vacation time, we went to Florida to visit my parents. When we got there, the first thing we noticed were several anti-Mormon pamphlets spread about. The biggest one was "Shadow or Fiction." This is the one where the complete temple ceremony and clothing are revealed. The also had the "God Makers." My mother took my wife off to the store and my dad and I sat in the living room talking. It was here that I let it slip that I had a cousin who was a  member of the church. Joan and Durwood Foxworthy. I love them dearly."

"When we were in Florida for my mother's funeral, they let it slip that my uncle Jessie has a daughter who is also a member of the Church...It is a small world even if Satan tries to stop you. Joan and Durwood had informed me that her parents and mine spent $365.00 every three months on anti-church classes. The last thing I remember my Dad saying to me was, with his finger in my face, he could never join a church that considered Jesus Christ as their literal brother. In a way he might be right, but not in the way he meant it. We are all sons and daughters of Elohim, and His First-Born Son, Jehovah, is the God of this Earth."

My father concluded his brief life history with his testimony, "I know-- there is no doubt that Joseph Smith was and is a Prophet, as I know that Gordon B. Hinckley is today (he wrote this history while President Hinckley was still the prophet). As in the ancient days, we have Apostles today. I know this is the True Church. Not just in my intellect or my heart, but in my whole being, I know that Jesus is the Christ, the Savior of the world. I believe, as it states in Section 76 of the Doctrine and Covenants, the Olive Branch Section, that there are many kingdoms awaiting us, and that I choose that my family and I go to the Highest Kingdom. This is my testimony..."

My father wasn't perfect and he was very often difficult to live with, but he was an amazing man. When I consider the obstacles placed before him all throughout his life I marvel at the positivity he did have. From his birth doctors were telling him he would die at any time and yet he lived until he was 58 years old. He lived a full life. Even after he had to retire because of his disabilities he tried to serve his community in any way he could.

My father taught me to use humor in any situation. He taught me to be silly and weird. He taught me to be myself, and he always made sure that I knew how highly he thought of me. He taught me the value of good music. So many of my most cherished childhood memories were with him in the car, listening to good music.



Most importantly, my father taught me the value of the Gospel. Despite the negativity he received when he joined the church, he never faltered. My father taught me the Gospel through example. He was always available to help me with my personal religious studies, whether they were studies of our faith, or another. My father died with a firm testimony of Jesus the Christ and left me with the greatest gift a parent can leave for their child. I look forward to the day when I can see him again. I will miss his "nub," but I'm excited for him to run up to me with two hands and two feet. I'm excited to tell him I made it, and that I never faltered either.

I apologize for the length of this post, it sort of got away from me. I intended on only sharing a brief and simple story about how my father found the truth of The Gospel, despite his circumstances. I will wrap it up here though, with a small piece of my testimony. Like my father, I know The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Days Saints is the Savior's true Gospel in modern times, and that it is the one sure path to salvation. I also know that while we will all face many challenges in this mortal life, the Gospel can help us get through those challenges like a champ and like a saint. Amen.