“I gave Hunk the first 1,400 miles” from November 2018

“I gave Hunk the first 1,400 miles”

We should probably start with “Hunk”.
It’s a who, not a what.
It was his lifelong nickname.
I knew him for the last 28 of his 85 years and 6 hours before he passed away, I finally learned the story of his nickname acquisition during childhood. For all things legal, he went by the initials H.O. But since he disliked his given names SO much, he identified by the nickname “Hunk” for roughly 82 years.

A man of unparalleled generosity.
A man of immediate action.
A man who faithfully loved a pretty girl for 48 years.
A man who was entrepreneurial, but able to work for the big boys.
A man who defended his country as a fighter pilot for parts of 4 decades.
A man who held unswervingly to the hope he professed. 

It was last weekend that a friend, who lives much nearer to Hunk, texted and said a serious heart attack with other complications had hit Hunk and it didn’t look good. My pretty girl and I talked and just felt like I should drop all work details on Wednesday and go see them. I set up a rental car for the 5+ hour drive, knowing the old Jeep wouldn’t be a wise choice and made plans to be there Wednesday evening.

But early Wednesday morning the rental car place called and told me they were out of cars.
So I called another place.
None.
Then the third and fourth calls proved that apparently rental cars had all vanished from East Texas.

For the past few weeks me and my pretty girl have been preparing to purchase the next car. Honestly, it was way past time.
I knew what we needed; I knew where to find it; I knew the money details. And, on Wednesday, I knew it was time.
I was GONNA see Hunk Wednesday.

So I bought the new car. The old Jeep went away (glory hallelujah!) and by a bit after noon, I was loaded and ready to roll the five and half hours east.

At 7pm I walked in the hospital and nearly shocked Hunk’s pretty girl and extended family. He was not able to engage; he wasn’t coherent by that point in time. His breathing was labored but they’d made him comfortable. I was SO glad to be in that room for a couple of hours swapping memories and just being close. Hunk passed about 6 hours after I left the hospital. I got the news as I was headed home Thursday morning. And I knew then I’d be headed right back to see them for the funeral.

It was a beautiful service. Hundreds of friends came to say goodbye, for now. I was in the visitation line and as I hugged his pretty girl, she wouldn’t let me go. It was clear she needed support. I gently sat her down on the nearby chair, got her some Sprite to sip and, at her request, stayed by her side for the rest of the visitation. She let me lead her to her seat for a funeral service of laughter, worship, joy and a clear call to live for Jesus as Hunk did. He was buried after a military bugler played “Taps” and the flag was tightly folded.

Saturday afternoon I made the 300+ mile journey home. Four days of driving to visit and then honor a godly man. He deserved the first 1,400 miles of the new Kia.

And if you’re wondering about the whole “pretty girl” thing—it’s from a song lyric by Ben Rector in his tune “30,000 Feet”. It came up the night I visited him in the hospital; I mentioned a part of the lyric to one of Hunk’s nieces; it just fit. It’s a conversation on a plane between an older man and his younger seat mate. Here’s the chorus:

“I’ve been better, I’ve been worse
I have loved a pretty girl
I’ve seen a couple places that I never thought I’d see
I’ve walked in to harder times
I’ve walked out the other side
It seems like you end up getting what you need
Looking down from 30,000 feet
Life’s been good to me”

H. O. Hunk Walker lived well on this side.
He loved his pretty girl.
He saw incredible things.
God was certainly gracious to him.
God was good to me and my pretty girl for putting him in our lives.