A Double Helping
By Hal Haralson

• My Last Trip to Sec Tidenberg

• One of the Least of These: Linnie Pierce 1906-1996

[Hal Haralson practices law in Austin, Texas and is a frequent contributor to Christian Ethics Today.]

I  headed north out of Austin at 5:00 a.m. My destination, Ft Smith, Arkansas. I had reached the Dallas area by 10:00 a.m. and crossed the Red River about noon. Never having been to Ft. Smith, I had little feel for how far my destination was.

James Garland Tidenberg was in the hospital in Ft. Smith and wasn’t expected to live much longer. He had been treated for cancer for 2 years. Early in the week, I told Judy I felt should go see Tidenberg and we agreed it was the right thing for me to do. The long drive gave me a chance to reflect on how “Tidier” and I first crossed paths.

In the fall of 1953, two freshmen from different areas of the American West came to Hardin-Simmons University in Abilene, Texas to study for the ministry.

James Tidenberg was over six feet tall, blond, and very much the son of German ancestry. He came from the wheat fields of Clovis, New Mexico. I was short (5’2”), black-headed and reflected some of my Indian ancestry. I had spent my early years on a West Texas farm near Loraine.

There were no dormitory rooms for men in 1953. The new men’s dorm was under construction. Five students rented an old house near the campus and this was what brought Tidenberg and me together. For 3 1/2 years, we would be roommates. James, affectionately known as “Tidier,” pastored two half-time churches (Guthrie and Dumont.) My preaching was mostly at youth revivals.

Tidler married Parilee Nelson in November 1956 and I married Judy Christian in December of the same year.

Tidenberg went to the seminary and spent 25 years as a missionary in Africa. I wound up in law school and spent 3 decades in Austin, Texas practicing law. Tidier and I didn’t see each other very much over the next 30 years, but the bond that was formed during college remained very strong. When I heard he was to be at the M.D. Anderson facility in Houston for treatment for cancer, I went to Houston and spent the day with him and Parilee.

Now I was probably seeing him for the last time. I was apprehensive as I pulled into the hospital parking lot. I had arrived in Ft. Smith about 4:00 p.m.

He was lying in bed with tubes in his chest and throat, and oxygen going into his nose. His color was the pale yellow that is characteristic of advanced cancer.

His daughter, Pal, was in the room. Her brother, Jim, was there also. Their other son, Tim, was in Tanzania where he serves as a missionary in the area where he grew up.

“Tidier” was glad to see me. He was alert. We laughed and joked about our college experiences for the next 2 hours. Pal and Jim heard these stories for the first time.

Tidier had come in one night after a date with Parilee. He was sure this was the girl he was going to marry. Only one problem. “She’s not a mission volunteer.” I told Tidenberg I was preaching in a revival at Baird the next week. “I’m preaching on missions on Wednesday night. You bring Parilee and if she surrenders for missions, you buy me the biggest steak in Abilene.”

She did. He did. That steak was so big I could eat only half of it. The rest lay around the room until we had to throw it out.

And, then there was the time we went to Foreign Mission Week at Glorieta, New Mexico. This was mecca then for our brand of Baptists. My friend, Lanny Curry, and I went together since we were both foreign mission volunteers. When we went through Clovis, New Mexico, we stopped at Tidenberg’s family farm. He was driving a tractor out in the field. We finally talked him into going with us. He protested that he wasn’t a mission volunteer and didn’t really want to go. We won and he joined us. We were the only people in the lodge of First Baptist Church, Abilene, Texas. It was great fun. We sat up until all hours, playing cards, and laughing ourselves silly.

On the final day of the conference, an invitation was given for all who wanted to surrender for foreign mission service after an emotional appeal had been made by the speaker. Tidenberg went sauntering down the isle. After the service was over, he came to the back where Lanny and I were standing. “You two S.O.B.’s see what you got me into.” Tidenberg was now a mission volunteer.

He spent 25 years in Africa. Lanny has been in the insurance business and is now a Methodist minister. I’ve spent 28 years practicing law.

Tidenberg was getting tired and I could see that after 2 hours, it was time for me to go. I told him that I loved him. I wished him well and said good-bye.

He died 10 days later. I was thankful I had followed my inclination and made the trip when I did.

Friends are among life’s greatest treasures. This friendship did not require frequency of contact or geographical closeness to remain strong for over 40 years. Now we’re fixing to pick it all up on the other side.

One of the Least of These:
Linnie Pierce 1906-1996

She was old (over 80), her clothes were dirty, her dress near-drug the ground. Her back was so deformed she looked at her feet when she walked. She carried a cane and had an old bag over her shoulder.

She was a “bag lady.” She had a Styrofoam cup filled with water that she poured on plants that looked thirsty. She picked trash out of trash cans. This was all she knew after spending 42 years in a mental institution.

This was my first experience with Linnie Pierce.

She attended our first retreat for former mental patients at the Butt Foundation ranch near Leaky, Texas.

The Mental Health Association in Texas started support groups for former mental patients called FAIR (Families and Individuals in Reliance) in 1980. The first FAIR group was in Austin. Three years later, we had groups in 30 cities.

Dian Cox was the MHAT staff member in charge and I was the committee chairman.

Since I had been diagnosed manic-depressive after a suicide attempt and 3 months in the San Antonio State Hospital (including 13 shock treatments), I felt this was a way I could pay back some of those people who helped me.

I put 10 years in the ministry behind me and went to law school. 1980 found me with 10 years experience as an attorney.

Linnie Pierce and I became friends. We both attended the first nine of the FAIR retreats. She then moved from San Antonio to Kenedy, Texas where she lived in one room of an old house. I hired a lady to take her one meal a day and help her take her medicine.

Linnie sold her house in San Antonio. The buyer, a real estate broker, made payments to Linnie for 2 years and stopped. Linnie called and asked me to help.

I found that this man told Linnie all she needed was a deed conveying the house to him. There was no note or deed of trust.

I finally located the buyer. He had sold the house as if he owed nothing on it, pocketed the cash and quit paying Linnie.

The “buyer” was now a student in law school. I prepared a note and deed of trust and wrote to him, telling him that if he didn’t sign the instruments and return them to me, the only “Bar” he would practice in would be Maggie Maes in Austin.

He signed and never missed a payment after that.

Linnie asked me to handle all her business affairs and for the next 10 years I went to Kenedy once a month to check on her.

She had me do a will leaving her estate in trust for the benefit of the mentally ill, naming me as Trustee.

Linnie spent the last 2 years of her life in a nursing home in Kenedy. She died March 16, 1996, at the age of 90. 1 conducted the graveside service with 5 people in attendance.

I probated Linnie’s estate. There were stocks and bonds valued at $75,000.00, savings of $22,000.00, and her house, and 20 acres of land which sold for $26,000.00.

Since she had no family, the entire estate went into the trust. Where did the money come from? I have no idea. She would not tell me.

The interest on her trust is used each year for the benefit of the mentally ill. One never knows what the result will be when we stop to help . . . “one of the least of these.”.

Updated Tuesday, January 01, 2002