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Memorial Day tribute

Addressees names removed to protect their privacy

----- Original Message -----
Sent: Thursday, May 27, 2010 6:29 AM
Subject: Memorial Day tribute
Every time I read this I weep.
Bro. Buddy
Subject: Memorial Day tribute


He writes: My lead flight attendant came to me and said, "We have an H.R. on this flight." (H.R. stands for human remains.) "Are they military?" I asked. 'Yes', she said.
'Is there an escort?' I asked.
'Yes, I already assigned him a seat'.
'Would you please tell him to come to the flight deck. You can board him early," I said..

A short while later, a young army sergeant entered the flight deck.
He was the image of the perfectly dressed soldier.
He introduced himself and I asked him about his soldier.
The escorts of these fallen soldiers talk about them as if they are still alive and still with us.
'My soldier is on his way back to Virginia,' he said. He proceeded to answer my questions, but offered no words.
I asked him if there was anything I could do for him and he said no.
I told him that he had the toughest job in the military and that I appreciated the work that he does for the families of our fallen soldiers.
The first officer and I got up out of our seats to shake his hand.
He left the flight deck to find his seat.
We completed our preflight checks, pushed back and performed an uneventful departure.
About 30 minutes into our flight I received a call from the lead flight attendant in the cabin. 'I just found out the family of the soldier we are carrying, is on board', she said. She then proceeded to tell me that the father, mother, wife and 2-year old daughter were escorting their son, husband, and father home. The family was upset because they were unable to see the container that the soldier was in before we left. We were on our way to a major hub at which the family was going to wait four hours for the connecting flight home to Virginia . The father of the soldier told the flight attendant that knowing his son was below him in the cargo compartment and being unable to see him was too much for him and the family to bear.
He had asked the flight attendant if there was anything that could be done to allow them to see him upon our arrival.
The family wanted to be outside by the cargo door to watch the soldier being taken off the airplane.
I could hear the desperation in the flight attendants voice when she asked me if there was anything I could do.
'I'm on it', I said. I told her that I would get back to her.
Airborne communication with my company normally occurs in the form of e-mail like messages.
I decided to bypass this system and contact my flight dispatcher directly on a secondary radio.
There is a radio operator in the operations control center who connects you to the telephone of the dispatcher.
I was in direct contact with the dispatcher.
I explained the situation I had on board with the family and what it was the family wanted.
He said he understood and that he would get back to me.
Two hours went by and I had not heard from the dispatcher.
We were going to get busy soon and I needed to know what to tell the family.
I sent a text message asking for an update.
I saved the return message from the dispatcher and the following is the text:
'Captain, sorry it has taken so long to get back to you. There is policy on this now and I had to check on a few things.
Upon your arrival a dedicated escort team will meet the aircraft.
The team will escort the family to the ramp and plane side.
A van will be used to load the remains with a secondary van for the family.
The family will be taken to their departure area and escorted into the terminal where the remains can be seen on the ramp.
It is a private area for the family only.
When the connecting aircraft arrives, the family will be escorted onto the ramp and plane side to watch the remains being loaded for the final leg home.
Captain, most of us here in flight control are veterans.
Please pass our condolences on to the family. Thanks.'
I sent a message back telling flight control thanks for a good job.
I printed out the message and gave it to the lead flight attendant to pass on to the father.
The lead flight attendant was very thankful and told me, 'You have no idea how much this will mean to them.'
Things started getting busy for the descent, approach and landing.
After landing, we cleared the runway and taxied to the ramp area.
The ramp is huge with 15 gates on either side of the alleyway.
It is always a busy area with aircraft maneuvering every which way to enter and exit.
When we entered the ramp and checked in with the ramp controller, we were told that all traffic was being held for us.
'There is a team in place to meet the aircraft', we were told.
It looked like it was all coming together, then I realized that once we turned the seat belt sign off, everyone would stand up at once and delay the family from getting off the airplane.
As we approached our gate, I asked the copilot to tell the ramp controller we were going to stop short of the gate to make an announcement to the passengers.
He did that and the ramp controller said, 'Take your time.'
I stopped the aircraft and set the parking brake.
I pushed the public address button and said, 'Ladies and gentleman, this is your Captain speaking I have stopped short of our gate to make a special announcement.
We have a passenger on board who deserves our honor and respect.
His Name is Private XXXXXX, a soldier who recently lost his life.
Private XXXXXX is under your feet in the cargo hold.
Escorting him today is Army Sergeant XXXXXXX.
Also, on board are his father, mother, wife, and daughter.
Your entire flight crew is asking for all passengers to remain in their seats to allow the family to exit the aircraft first. Thank you.'
We continued the turn to the gate, came to a stop and started our shutdown procedures.
A couple of minutes later I opened the cockpit door. I found the two forward flight attendants crying, something you just do not see.
I was told that after we came to a stop, every passenger on the aircraft stayed in their seats, waiting for the family to exit the aircraft.
When the family got up and gathered their things, a passenger slowly started to clap his hands.
Moments later more passengers joined in and soon the entire aircraft was clapping.
Words of 'God Bless You', I'm sorry, thank you, be proud, and other kind words were uttered to the family as they made their way down the aisle and out of the airplane.
They were escorted down to the ramp to finally be with their loved one.
Many of the passengers disembarking thanked me for the announcement I had made.
They were just words, I told them, I could say them over and over again, but nothing I say will bring back that brave soldier.

I respectfully ask that all of you reflect on this event and the sacrifices that millions of our men and women have made to ensure our freedom and safety in these United States of AMERICA .

Foot note: As a Viet Nam Veteran I can only think of all the veterans including the ones that rode below the deck on their way home and how they were treated.
When I read things like this I am proud that our country has not turned their backs on our soldiers returning from the various war zones today and give them the respect they so deserve.
I know every one who has served their country who reads this will have tears in their eyes, including me.

pdf  Memorial Day Tribute"

The new church secretary

----- Original Message -----
Sent: Saturday, July 03, 2010 8:29 PM
Subject: The new church secretary

I heard of a new convert, who was a bit of a rough diamond, constantly pleading with his pastor for a job in the church. In desperation, the pastor finally gave him a list of names, saying, "These are members of the church who haven't been to church in years; Write them a letter and urge them to come back to church. Use the church stationery if you want."

The man accepted the challenge with enthusiasm.

About three weeks later, a letter arrived from a well-known local physician, whose name was on the list. In the envelope was a cheque for $5000 and a note:

"Dear Pastor, Please find enclosed a cheque to make up for my back tithes. I'm sorry for missing church so often, but be assured I will be there this Sunday.

P.S. Would you please tell your secretary that there is only one 't' in 'dirty' and no 'c' in skunk."

Most of us could use a secretary like that!

pdf  The new church secretary"

How Moody Won the Children

----- Original Message -----
Sent: Saturday, July 10, 2010 2:02 PM
Subject: How Moody got the children in Sunday School

How Moody Won the Children

Dwight L. Moody was passing along the streets of Chicago when he spied two little girls playing out in front of an underground saloon.
His heart was instantly moved with compassion for the children, and he walked straightway into the cellar.
The barkeeper, thinking that he wanted a drink, said, "What will you have?" "Those children for my Sunday
school," replied Moody.
"Children for your Sunday school!
Do you know where you are? An infidel club meets here every Thursday night."
But the tactful soul winner knew it was not a time for retreat, so, resting his elbows on the bar, he looked into the face of this father and pleaded with him earnestly in behalf of the little girls.
Finally, the man's heart was touched and he said, "I will tell you what I will do, parson.
If you will come down here next Thursday night and meet the boys in a joint discussion, and you win, you shall have the children; but if not, it is all off."
"Agreed," exclaimed Moody. "I will be here."
Taking his departure, he looked up a little crippled newsboy whom he knew, who could pray effectually and said to him, "Tommy, I want you next Thursday night."
When the hour arrived, Tommy and the evangelist entered the saloon.
It was full. The men were sitting on whiskey barrels, on beer kegs and on the counter, while others were at the windows in expectation of a debate.
Moody opened the meeting by saying: "Gentlemen, it is our custom to open our meetings with prayer.
Tommy, jump on that barrel and pray," whereupon Tommy perched himself on the barrel, turned his little face up toward heaven, and how he did pray!
As the tears stole down his cheeks, the more tenderhearted beat a retreat; and finally those more rock-like, subdued by the pathos and spiritual power of the occasion, slowly retired, until there were none left except the barkeeper, Moody and the praying boy.
"That will do, Tommy," exclaimed the evangelist.
"I claim the children," said he, turning to the father. "They are yours according to contract," replied the father, "but it is a queer way to fight." "It is the way I win my battles," said Moody.
He had instructed the little boy not to cease praying until he had prayed them all out.
It was a piece of strategy full of tactfulness.
The reality, the venturesomeness, and the tact of such a man is worth emulating.

pdf  How Moody Won the Children"

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From The Synagogue to The Saviour

I felt this article needed to be read by many to uplift them in their search.
An offering to the source of this eMail would be appreciated

PAYPAL offerings can be made to

----- Original Message -----
Sent: Wednesday, May 05, 2010 6:43 AM

Subject: Fw: From the Synagogue to the Savior
Fundamental Baptist Information Service May 5, 2010

From The Synagogue to The Saviour
May 5, 2010 (Fundamental Baptist Information Service, P.O. Box 610368, Port Huron, MI 48061, 866-295-4143,; for instructions about subscribing and unsubscribing or changing addresses, see the information paragraph at the end of the article) -
The following is abbreviated from "Charlie Coulson: The Drummer Boy" by Doctor Max L. Rossvally (1828-1892). See this link for copies.

During the American Civil War, I was a surgeon in the Army. Following the battle at Gettysburg, there were hundreds of wounded soldiers needing immediate medical attention. Many were wounded so severely that a leg or an arm, or sometimes both, needed to be amputated.

One of the wounded was a boy, who had only been in the service for three months. Being too young to be a soldier, he enlisted as a drummer. My steward tried to give him chloroform before the amputation, but he turned his head away and refused it. He was told it was my order. He said, "Let me talk with the doctor."

"Young man, why do you refuse the chloroform? When I found you on the battlefield, you were so far gone that I almost didn't bother to pick you up. But when you opened those large blue eyes, it occurred to me that you had a mother somewhere who might be thinking of you at that very moment. I didn't want you to die, so I had you brought here. You have lost so much blood that in you're weak condition you might not live through this operation. You'd better let me give you the chloroform."

He laid his hand on mine, looked me in the face and said, "Doctor, one Sunday afternoon in Sunday School, when I was nine and a half years old, I accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour. I learned to trust Him then, I know I can trust Him now. He is my strength. He will support me while you cut away my arm and leg."

"Won't you at least take some brandy?" I begged.

Again, he looked at me and said, "Doctor, when I was about five years old, my mother knelt by my side with her arms around my neck and said: 'Charlie, I am now praying to the Lord Jesus that you will never know the taste of strong drink. Your father died a drunkard, and I've asked God to use you to warn young people against the dangers of drinking.' I am now seventeen years old and I have never had anything stronger than tea or coffee. I am in all probability going to die and go into the presence of my God. Would you send me there, smelling of brandy?"

I will never forget the look he gave me. At that time I hated Jesus, but I respected that boy's loyalty to his Saviour. When I saw how he loved and trusted Him to the very end, something deeply touched my heart. Despite the urgency of the moment and all the misery around, I did for that boy what I had never done for any other soldier. I asked him if he wanted to see a chaplain.

"Oh, yes, sir!" was his answer.

When the chaplain came, he recognized the young drummer from his tent prayer meetings. Taking his hand, he said, "Charlie, I'm so sorry to see you in this sad condition."

"Oh, I'm all right, sir," he answered. "The doctor offered me chloroform, but I declined it. Then he wanted to give me brandy, which I didn't want either. So now, when my Saviour calls me, I can go to Him in my right mind."

"You might not die, Charlie," said the chaplain, "but if the Lord should call you home, is there anything I can do for you after you're gone?"

"Chaplain, here's my little Bible. My mother's address is inside. Send it to her and write a letter for me. Tell her that since I left home, I have never let a single day pass--no matter if we were on the march or on the battlefield,--without reading a portion of God's Word, and daily praying that He would bless her."

"Is there anything else I can do for you, my lad?" asked the chaplain.

"Yes, please write a letter to the Sunday School Superintendent of the Sands Street Church in Brooklyn, New York. Tell him that his many prayers and moral counsel I have never forgotten. His lessons have helped and comforted me through all the dangers. And now, in my dying hour, I ask my Saviour to bless and strengthen my dear old teacher. That is all."

Turning towards me, he said, "Now, doctor, I'm ready, and I promise I will not scream while you take off my arm and leg."

I didn't have the courage to take the knife in my hand, without first taking a quick gulp of brandy to nerve myself to perform my sad duty.

While cutting through the flesh, Charlie Colson didn't even groan. But when I took the saw to separate the bone the lad, through clenched teeth, uttered, "O Jesus, blessed Jesus, stand by me now!"

He kept his promise. He never screamed.

I couldn't sleep that night. Despite the constant moans and weeping of the wounded, all I could see was Charlie's soft blue eyes. Even his words, "Blessed Jesus, stand by me now," kept ringing in my ears. Between twelve and one o'clock, a strong urge came over me to see that boy again. When I got there, I was told that sixteen of the badly wounded had died. "Was Charlie Colson one of them?" I asked. "No, sir," answered the steward, "he's sleeping as sweetly as a babe."

When I came to his side, one of the civilian nurses informed me that at about nine o'clock, two members of the U.S. Christian Commission, accompanied by the chaplain, came to read Scripture and sing hymns. She said that the chaplain knelt by Charlie and offered up a passionate prayer. Then they and Charlie sang the sweetest of all hymns, "Jesus, Lover Of My Soul." I couldn't understand how this young lad, who suffered such horrible pain, could sing.

Five days after his amputation, Charlie sent for me. "Doctor," he said, "my time has come. I don't expect to see another sunrise. But thank God, I have no fear and I'm ready to go. I want to thank you with all my heart for your kindness to me. I know you are Jewish, and that you don't believe in Jesus, but I want you to stay with me, and see me die trusting my Saviour to the last moment of my life."

I tried to stay, but I could not. I didn't have the courage to stand by and watch a true Christian die, rejoicing in the love of Jesus whom I had been taught to deny. So, I hurriedly left.

About twenty minutes later an anxious steward found me and said, "Doctor, Drummer Colson wants to see you again." "I've just seen him," I answered, "I can't see him again." "But, Doctor, he says he must see you before he dies."

So, I made up my mind to see him, say a few kind words, and let die. However, I was determined that no talk about his Jesus was going to influence me.

His condition had worsened. Asking me to take his hand, he said, "Doctor, I love you because you are Jewish; the best friend I have found in this world was also Jewish."

I asked him who that was, and he answered, "Jesus the Christ, and I want to introduce you to Him before I die. Will you promise me, Doctor, that what I am about to say to you, you will never forget?"

I promised, and he said, "Five days ago, while you operated on me, I prayed to the Lord to save you."

His words pierced deep into my heart. I couldn't understand how, when I was causing him the most intense pain, he could forget all about himself and think only of his Saviour and my spiritual need. All I could say at the moment was, "Well, my dear boy, you will soon be all right."

I started to leave, hearing him sing softly, "I'm going home to die no more."

Twelve minutes later he fell asleep, "safe in the arms of Jesus."

During the war thousands of soldiers died in our hospitals, but I only attended one burial, that was for Charlie Colson the Union drummer boy. I ordered that he'd be dressed in a new uniform and like the burial for an officer, arranged that his coffin be covered with the flag he nobly served.

His dying words made a deep impression upon me. I remembered thinking how gladly I would have given all I possessed, if I could have felt towards Jesus as he did. But with the continuation of the cruel war and my company with worldly officers, I gradually forgot his prayer and my promise.

After the war and for nearly ten years, I fought against believing in Christ. But God continued to bring faithful and godly people into my life that spoke of Jesus' love. Finally, the drummer boy's prayer was answered and I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Saviour and Messiah. It did come at a high cost. My family, in-laws and dear mother rejected me. Psalm 27:10, was a great comfort, "When my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up."

It was eighteen months after my salvation that the Lord had a special blessing for me. One evening while traveling through Brooklyn, I felt led to attend a prayer meeting in a small local church. It was a meeting when believers testify to the loving-kindness of the Lord. After several had spoken, an elderly lady stood up and said,

"Dear friends, this may be the last time I have a chance to publicly share how good the Lord has been to me. My doctor told me yesterday that my right lung is nearly gone, and my left lung is failing fast, so at best, I only have a short time to be with you. But what is left of me belongs to Jesus. It's a great joy to know that I shall soon meet my boy with Jesus in heaven. My son was not only a soldier for his country, but also a soldier for Christ. He was wounded at the battle of Gettysburg, and was cared for by a Jewish doctor, who amputated his arm and leg. He died five days after the operation. The chaplain of the regiment wrote me a letter, and sent me my boy's Bible. I was told that in his dying hour, my Charlie sent for that Jewish doctor, and said to him, `Doctor, before I die I wish to tell you that five days ago, while you operated on me, I prayed to the Lord to save you."

As I heard this lady speak, I just couldn't sit still! I left my seat, ran across the room, took her hand and said, "God bless you, my dear sister. Your son's prayer has been heard and answered! I am the Jewish doctor that your Charlie prayed for, and his Saviour is now my Saviour!


"Having been frequently asked whether all the details of this story are strictly true, I take this opportunity of stating that every incident occurred exactly as related." Max L. Rossvally

Known facts * Rossvally became a worldwide Evangelist.
* His wife, daughter and son eventually became believers.
* He started a Hebrew Christian Association in NYC.
* He is buried in Lawnswood Cemetery in Leeds, England.
* His story has been translated into many languages.

Shortly after his conversion to God, Dr. Rossvally resigned his commission in the United States Army and opened a Mission for the conversion of his Jewish brethren. He met with much opposition at first, but persevered, and finally had the joy of seeing quite a number --rich and poor, old and young Jews and Jewesses--exclaim, with one of old: "We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, THE CHRIST" (John 1:41).

He afterwards made a prolonged evangelistic tour, and visited many cities in Europe, America, Canada, Germany, and many other lands, preaching the glad tidings of a free and full salvation in his forceful way to large audiences, his ministry being owned of God in leading not a few--Gentiles as well as Jews--out of darkness into light and from the power of Satan unto God.

A few years of happy service, a few months of severe suffering, and M. L. Rossvally was called to the higher service of heaven in October, 1892.

"He being dead yet speaketh," for several millions of "Charlie Coulson, the Drummer Boy," and some of his other tracts, have been scattered over America, Britain, India, Australia and New Zealand, France, Germany, Switzerland, Russia, and other lands, leading many to "know Him whom to know is life everlasting."

Surely this true and touching narrative of real life in our own day re-affirms the words of the most noted Jewish convert--Saul of Tarsus--who said: "For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ; for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek" (Rom. 1:16).

Notice it is not the Gospel of Christianity or Judaism, the gospel of any church, creed, or party, but the Gospel of Christ, the Gospel concerning the peerless Person of THE LORD JESUS CHRIST, Who died for our sins according to the Scriptures ... was buried, and ... rose again the third day according to the Scriptures" (1 Cor. 15:3-4).

"Wherefore God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a Name which is above every name: that at the Name of JESUS every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that JESUS CHRIST IS LORD, to the glory of God the Father" (Philippians 2:9-11).

The great question for each of us to consider is, Have I, like the drummer boy and the doctor, as an individual, realized my lost condition as "dead in trespasses and in sins" (Eph. 2:1) and accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my own personal Saviour? And do I know that "God for Christ's sake has pardoned my sins?" If not, why not, like Jew and Gentile recorded herein, put the matter to the test? "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world" (John 1:29), and you will be able to say, "He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5).

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth My Word, and believeth on Him that sent Me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life" (John 5:24).

"That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation" (Romans 10:9-10).

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