For just a few moments, I would like to bring you along with me through some of my most fond memories with my grandfather, David Lee Armstrong. It is my hope that you will get to be where I was, see what I saw, and experience a man who was as strong, as vibrant, as generous, and as faithful a person as you will ever meet.
Papaw was one of the strongest men I’ve ever known. He never used a gym, as he had no need of one. For several decades, he was employed by Steel of West Virginia. You’d have thought his arms were reinforced with the very steel he helped make. A handshake required a liability waiver. The dedication and longevity he demonstrated is the kind of work ethic everyone should strive for.
When he wasn’t working steel or one of his many side jobs, he was all about baseball and football. My love of sports comes from him. During summer training camp at Marshall, papaw would drive me to Joan C. Edwards Stadium to watch the players run drills and practice plays. The weather was perfect as we made our way through the nearly empty stands. Papaw would have a copy of the Herald-Dispatch with a complete layout of player stats, what high school they came from, which ones would be likely to start, and so on. Enthusiastically, he would tell me about the top recruits while I looked up whatever player he was talking about in the paper. Whenever the team ran plays, he and I would practice our play-by-play commentary together. Then afterward, we would hit up Rally’s or Wendy’s before returning home.
If there’s one thing I can say for sure, it’s that papaw loved his flea markets. After I expressed an interest in collecting sports cards, he would drive me to different flea markets to buy entire boxes of cards for cheap. As I read the backs of each card, papaw would tell me what that player was like back in the day. His favorite team to tell me about by far was the Cincinnati Reds. I would try and imagine as he described Ted Kluszewski, a man with arms so big he had to wear sleeveless jerseys to play in. He would regale me with stories of going to see Stan Musial play while I carefully placed my cards inside their protective sleeves.
His other passion was fishing. On rare occasions I’d get to go on trips with papaw to Alabama to spend some time with my cousin, Amanda. I can still imagine the wind in my face as we sped across Weiss Lake in uncle David’s boat. Don’t get me wrong I had no idea what I was doing and I refused to touch the bait or the fish, but it was so fun watching two masters doing what they love.
I spent many summers at my grandparent’s little yellow house out in Chesapeake. Papaw spent his time outdoors mowing, painting, and tinkering while Mamaw and I did puzzles, learned multiplication tables, and watched all the old westerns like Gunsmoke and Bonanza. I loved spending the night at their house because it usually meant Papaw would go out in the morning and get sausage biscuits from McDonald’s for us.
In spite of all these warm, fuzzy memories the thing that stands out most is this man’s unwavering faith in God. I have had the distinct honor of sitting down for devotion with just him, me, and that old Bible that has weathered so many of life’s storms. Papaw expertly navigated the well-worn pages of the Good Book and landed on the chosen passage. His face exuded passion and joy as he read the Scriptures. He loved to tell me all about what Heaven will be like, smiling from ear to ear as he explained that he will no longer be my papaw, but my brother. I remember papaw telling me about different people he had the opportunity to minister to. It didn’t matter if he knew you or not; he was as fearless in saving souls as he was in every other aspect of life.
That legacy of shameless, fearless servitude to the Kingdom of God is now bestowed upon us. Papaw spent all of his time, resources, and energy on his first ministry-his family-because he understood that we would one day take up his mantle. The light that he spent a lifetime nurturing has now been multiplied among his many children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. It’s up to us to continue to walk in the lessons he taught us; how to give of yourself expecting nothing in return; how vital it is to take care of your body because it’s the only one you get; how to love others through your actions; and how to be the light of Christ in a dark world. I can only pray that I can one day be half the man, husband, father, and grandfather that he was. I know I’ll think of him every time I see a Reds game, and Lord willing I might even get to take my kids to see a Marshall game in his honor.
Walking in the Light 