In Honor of Rev. O.C. Boston, October 1, 1903 - August 30, 1977

Please allow me to do a little therapy for myself as I write a tribute to my late grandfather.

August the 30th this year is the 30th anniversary of the passing of my grandfather, Rev. O.C. Boston. 30 years ago today a great man went home to be with his Father in Heaven. I still mourn the loss of this great man, but am so grateful that someday I will see him again when I make it to heaven.

There are so many things I could say about Grandpa Boston. He was the pastor of the church where I currently pastor two different times, once in the 1940's and again in the late 1960's. It was at this church that I first remember going to Sunday School, and hearing my grandpa preach.

What a privilege and honor it is to serve the Lord at the same place that Grandpa did!

That last summer Grandpa was alive was one of the best summer's I can remember. Grandpa had moved away to preach at a couple of different churches, but had returned close to where we lived when I was a teenager. It was about 17 miles from our house to his. Many times I would ride my bicycle from home to his house to spend time with him.

Grandpa loved to fish, so I loved to fish. He seemed to always be able to work in a time to go fishing even if he was busy.

Grandpa had been told by his doctor that he needed to cut down on some of his physical activities like mowing grass and gardening due to a problem with his heart. That year, the church where he was preaching paid me to mow the grass (my guess is Grandpa paid me out of his own pocket). It was a big yard, as there was the church yard and the parsonage yard connected.

Well, that year, school started a few days prior to August 30th, and I wasn't going to be able to get to mow the church property until Saturday. Now Grandpa was one of those types that if the yards have grown even a fraction of an inch, then it had to be mowed by Sunday before church services.

He was worried that it might rain on Saturday, and that the yard wouldn't be mowed for Sunday morning. So in spite of the doctors warnings, Grandpa decided to mow all the grass with a regular lawn mower (I used a riding mower, but he didn't like it because he said it jarred him around too much).

I think you probably know what happened next. Grandpa died of a heart attack doing my job for me. I have long since gotten past the guilt I felt, as Grandpa knew he wasn't supposed to be mowing and I would have been there to mow Saturday. But what I really realized is that he died doing what he loved, working for the church and his Heavenly Father.

There was something else that happened on that day - August 30th, 1977. I turned 15 years old.

So on the 30th anniversary of your passing Grandpa, I thank you for all that you taught me about life, and I know you would be happy that I am now doing what you always hoped one of your family members would do, and that is preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ. You let me preach my first sermon at age 14, and I remember it like it was yesterday.

Rest in peace Grandpa Boston, see you in heaven some day soon!