hingesofhistory

Twitter, Facebook, and social activism: newyorker.com

Speaking of "Hinges of History," this is one of the most thought-provoking, well researched articles I have read about the social impact of social media. If you are serious about understanding the speed of change today, SAVE this article for serious study. Twitter, Facebook, and social activism: newyorker.com.

What I Wish You Had Told Me When I Was Your Age

As told to Belton Young Professionals – April 28, 2010

Doug Dillard, creativity consultant and self-confessed serial entrepreneur, on Wednesday, April 28, shared with the Belton Young Professionals organization ife lessons distilled from a career that spans more than 60 years of public relations, advertising, publishing, fund-raising, and radio and television. Two lifetime achievement awards and numerous honors suggests his stories mightl be helpful as he tells “Things I Wish You Had Told Me When I Was Your Age.” Semi-retired but active in community service and as a popular entertainer, Dillard returned to his Bell County roots almost three years ago to marry his childhood sweetheart, JoAn Musick-Flowers. Here is the full text of his message, some of which was omitted in the live presentation because of time constraints.

Let's Swap Places for Today

I was green and shy and barely 17 when I entered Baylor University as a freshman in the fall of 1946. And I was much in awe of Dr. Pat M. Neff, who was president of Baylor at the time.

It was not just that I had learned about his extraordinary record as governor of Texas while studying Texas history in the fourth grade. Or that later I heard preachers talk about his exemplary service while twice president of the Southern Baptist Convention. I had also listened to my father and uncle talk of hearing his stirring orations at political rallies and Fourth of July picnics.

I asked for a chapel seat assignment right down front and center. I didn't want to miss a thing the man had to say.

When Dr. Neff stepped to the podium on that first day, he looked as if he had come to life from a color picture in a history book -- an erect, military, even god-like bearing, dark blue silk suit, long double-breasted coat, winged color and black, string bow tie in the manner worn by his Baylor classmate, Senator Tom Connally. And his long, silver hair, slightly tinted blue, curled up over the back of his collar.

As the crowd hushed, Dr. Neff grasped the pulpit stand with both hands and surveyed the crowd from side to side and said, "There is something you dumb freshmen must learn: Never let your studies interfere with your college education." He had our attention.

He spoke for 20 minutes on that subject, and it changed my life.

"Long after you have forgotten what you learn in the classrooms at Baylor," he said, "you will remember and continue to be blessed by the experiences you have and the people you meet."

Dr. Neff gave some very practical pointers about remembering experiences by tying them to their setting -- whether a building, a tree, a view, or a sunset. With some pride, he suggested that we glance at the silver dome and lighted cupula of Pat Neff Hall, which could be seen from any point on the campus at that time. "And years later," he said, "when you return for a homecoming, you will view it from that angle, and the memory of that experience will come alive."

As to the importance of the people we meet, Dr. Neff reminded us, "While you are here this year, some of the most important leaders of our time will cross this campus -- Artur Rubenstein will play a concert; and you will hear speakers such as Dr. Howard Conant, president of Harvard and father of the Manhattan Project that created the atomic bomb; the noted novelist Dixon Wecter, a Baylor alum; Col. James Sapp, Surgeon General of the United States, who personally rode a rocket sled to test whether a human could survive ejection from an aircraft at supersonic speeds. And Bob Hope and Spike Jones and his City Slickers will perform in this hall."

When our giggles wore down, Dr. Neff continued, "Don't just say, 'I was at Baylor when Artur Rubenstein was there.' Be able to say, 'I knew Artur Rubenstein.

"These people are as interested in what you think as you are in them. Often they are insulated by celebrity, separated from the people. Just walk up to them, stick out your hand and say, 'Hi, I'm Slime So-and-so!'

"Now, look around you," he said. "Go ahead, I'll wait."

There was an uneasy shuffle as we gawked at our neighbors.

"In less time than you know," he said, "those classmates whom you saw will be the leaders of our nation in government, business, medicine, religion ... Don't just say, 'I was at Baylor when so-and-so was there.' Be able to say, 'I knew so-and-so when I was at Baylor.'"

When the words and the ovation had ended, "That Good Ol' Baylor Line" had been sung, I floated out the front doors of Waco Hall, marched straight past Judge Baylor's statue and headed for Pat Neff Hall. I went straight to the president's secretary and announced, "I want to arrange an appointment with Dr. Neff!"

"May I say what the appointment is about?" she asked.

"I just want to meet him," I said.

When the day came, as I was ushered into the office, Dr. Neff stepped around his desk and strode across the room with his hand extended. "Hi, Slime Dillard!" (He could read my name printed on the bill of my Slime cap.) "What can I do for you today?"

"Nothing, really, sir," I said. "Except, I really believed you in that first chapel service. And I don't want to say, 'I went to Baylor with Dr. Pat Neff was president.' I want to say, 'I knew Pat Morris Neff!"

He threw his head back and gave a belly laugh. "Well, what shall we talk about?" as he removed his coat and settled back in his throne-like chair.

I began by recalling his accomplishment in establishing the state's roadside parks system. Then I told of our family picnics and church hayrides to Mother Neff State Park near Moody, Texas. "I know there's a story there," I said. And he told me the story of the old home place where he grew up and of his love for his saintly mother, "to whom I owe everything I have become," he said.

We filled the next 20 minutes with talk of many things that have been long forgotten. But I will never forget that encounter, and it turned me around.

For the rest of my days at Baylor, whenever I would see Dr. Neff walking across the campus, greeting others with a smile and a nod, he would always call me by name. I knew Pat Morris Neff.

I had more occasions to be close to him, later as freshman president and as a member of a quartet that sang at some of his speaking engagements. But for the rest of my life, I have followed his advice and sought out some of the greats of our day, not content to say I was part of the audience.

Some of those whom I have met have become fast friends, many have continued to open doors of opportunity, and all of them have enriched my life.

A wise old college history professor once told me, “Doug, a fool learns by experience. A wise man learns by other people's experience.

“I don't need to stick my hand into a fire to know that fire is hot. I just need to watch some other fool stick his hand in.”

If you can learn one lesson from my scars today, this time will be worth it.

But when I was your age, I wish I had been sitting there one day and you were standing here talking to me.

I Wish You Had Told Me That No One Was Going to Hand Me a Free Ride

I hate to tell you this, but … the world does NOT beat a path to your door just because you have a better idea.

My call to ministry at 15 was like an itch I couldn't scratch.

I knew it was not to be a pastor. Or missionary. Or minister of education.(Although along the way I served those roles and more.)

A couple of years out of seminary, fortunately, that vision came into focus. The bad news was, it was a call to the infant field of religious public relations.

There were no professionals except for a handful that served denominations and big institutions. There was only one course in Church PR, at Baylor University, and it wasn't taught every year.

I turned to one of the few professionals that I knew and asked for guidance in learning the field.

“Doug,” he said, “you can become a professional in anything you want to. All you need to do is live it, breathe it, sleep it, eat it 24 hours a day, seven days a week. In less time than you know, you'll ask an expert a question and 20 seconds into his answer think, 'I know more about this than this guy,'”

In 45 minutes I had with him, he didn't chart my journey or give me a free ride. He pointed to the entry ramp that put me on the right road.

For about seven years I used every event in my work as a laboratory of learning. I chased down every pro I could find to try to get to know them and learn how they worked. I stuck like glue to every one of them that would give me time.

And when I found that no one else was going to do it, I did it myself, launching my own religious public relations and advertising agency and publishing a monthly digest in church public relations and promotion ideas.

Luck is important. But the harder you work, the luckier you'll get.

Success happens when opportunity meets preparation.

And it's not going to be guaranteed because of the number of degrees you have or your degree of godliness.

Talking with a professor one day after a guest lecture, he motioned across the room spotting his top students.

“The sad thing is that most of them will wind up working for my C students,” he said.

The difference, he explained, was that the brilliant ones often tend to expect the world to beat a path to their door and hand them success. The others know that Edison was right when he said genius is one percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration.

And nobody else is going to do your sweating.

A preacher tried to butter up a rich farmer: “With God's help, you surely have developed a beautiful spread here!”

“Yep,” the farmer said. “But you should have seen it when God had it by Hisself!”

I Wish You Had Told Me That Success Was Not Something “Out There”

The elements of success surround you everyday.

Success is not doing certain things or not doing certain things, it is a certain way of doing everything.

That dream you want to build is built brick by brick. And you make those bricks one act and one encounter at a time.

One illustration from the years of preparation for my communications career while I was still a minister of education. And one from one of my mentors at midpoint.

I was working on a stewardship campaign for our church, using a “canned” program furnished by our denomination. I wanted something better, more personalized. I turned to a very busy young professional who was News Director for the Baptist General Convention of Texas and a member of our church.

He came into my office one afternoon and in just a couple of hours turned out a first-class four-page newspaper.

“Jim, how can I learn what you do?”

“Well, you could start by sweeping floors in the family newspaper business when you were a kid like I did,” he said, “but it's a little late for that. “Or you could go to college and add a journalism degree or two.” (He knew of my call and ambition, so he continued:)

“But I'll show you how to make everything you do become a lesson.”

“You have to produce under the pressure of deadlines,” he said, “you don't have time for rewrites. The secret is to take every edition hot of the press, grab a cup of coffee and a red pencil and tear it apart!

“And every thing you produce will become an object lesson in communication.”

That was profound. It did more than teach me how to write and design publications. I applied it to events, organizations, and problems in general the rest of my life.

The most important element in every thing you do – and the thing most neglect – is the analysis and evaluation after the fact. Did it fail or underperform? Why? Did it knock a home run? Why?

That becomes the top memo in every case file on everything you do. That becomes your research notes for your dissertation on success.

The other story was a tip from the owner of the fund-raising company I worked for.

Dr. Mayes, the owner, and I were about to go on our first campaign trip. He addressed the subject of dress.

“Most folks on a trip like this will dress any old way and pack their good stuff in a suit bag for 'showtime'”.

He said to dress every day as if you are going to meet the most important person in your life. Dress for it, act like it even when you think no one is watching, and expect it to happen.

I can't tell you how many times that very thing happened. (And I found that you get better treatment from baggage handlers to billionaires in the board rooms.)

It also does a lot for your self esteem.

I know this is a different day, but frankly, “business casual” had tended to be interpreted by many to be “hippie sloppy.”

I Wish You Had Told Me That I Could Never Dream Too Big

I started my Ministry of Ideas agency in a garage office – not too far from the time that Steve Jobs and Bill Gates were doing the same thing. Nothing wrong with that.

Then I moved into a suite of offices in downtown Oak Cliff. Jobs and Gates moved, too. But there was a difference.

In my remaining years in that business, I always operated with the mental cobwebs of a garage office mentality and fought to hang onto full control. That led me to such stinking thinking that I didn't even get an accountant and learn the difference between cash flow and profit until I was losing over a thousand dollars a month.

Jobs and Gates on the other hand had the world in their sites and hired the brightest, most creative people they could find to help them reach their dream.

Have you ever toured the famed A.J. Armstrong Browning Library on the campus of Baylor University?

I had the privilege of taking a course in Browning under Dr. Armstrong. Or as I often say, I took a course in Armstrong under Robert Browning. The man was the epitome of Browning's philosophy, that a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for.

It is capsuled in a line from Browning's poem, A Grammarian's Funeral:

That low man seeks a little thing to do,

Sees and does it.

This high man aiming for a million

Misses a unit.

A history prof later put that in cornbread terms: Why shoot for a hundred and, being human, it 70, 80, or 90? Shoot for a million and maybe hit 101!

I'm not talking about normal business planning. I'm talking about building the dream that drives and directs what you plan and do.

You can create and nurture your life dream one of two ways:

You can ooch up the scale incrementally, step by step.

Or you can be honest with yourself about what you really want to accomplish with your life and go for it.

These are contrasted in a story:

Just before I left my comfort zone as a minister of education to launch Ministry of Ideas, I was attacked by a case of butterflies in the belly because of the challenges I faced.

Driving along a Dallas street, I was listening to Paul Harvey's noon newscast.

He told of a visit with a Fort Worth insurance executive whose hobby was “instinct shooting.”

The first thing he would do with a new gun was to file the sights off. He never sighted down a barrel or through a scope. He shot by instinct.

“He aims,” Harvey said, “like a baseball pitcher aims, by intense concentration on the target.”

“In Oklahoma,” he said, “we called it 'shooting from the hip.'”

I got it. Immediately. The night before, I sat in the stands and watched my son, a catcher, pop his mitt and holler at his pitcher, “Put her there, Pitch! Here's your target.”

“In two hours' practice,” Harvey continued, “he had me shooting BBs out of the air with BBs!”

“He gave me a BB gun and started out throwing charcoal briquets into the air. And after a few misses, I got the hang of it and was hitting every time.

“He graduated to Aka-Seltzers. After a few misses, I got the hang of it and was hitting every time.

“Then he graduated to aspirins. After a few misses, I got the hang of it and was hitting every time.

“Finally, he graduated to BBs. And after a few misses, I got the hang of it and was hitting every time.”

Then Harvey related that the next week, he attended a conference at the Pentagon. “Surrounded by a bunch of admirals and generals with more gold braid and ribbons than I'd ever seen, I was excited as a little kid, telling them how I learned to shoot BBs out of the air with BBs.”

I pulled to a stop and wrote that down. Intense concentration on the target. And my target was much larger than a BB.

You get a firm fix on what God wants you to do with your life, and I promise you that you can achieve it.

It is said that the world steps aside for the person who knows where he's going. I'm here to tell you that they'll get behind and push. You'll run across some who will not only open doors for you, they'll blast them off their hinges. You'll run across some who will not only point the way, they will roll out the red carpet and sprinkle rose petals on it before you.

I Wish You Had Told Me That Nobody Would Hurt for My Dream Like Me

My final two years of preparation to launch my career followed a very carefully drawn PERT Chart, an early version of Critical Path Planning that guided the research that developed the atomic bomb and our venture into space.

I carried a presentation notebook that contained my plan with examples and market studies. I buttonholed every professional or influence center I could for one-on-one show-and-tell sessions.

I got lots of pats on the back, good wishes and found few detractors. I also got lots of promises for help and invitations for further talks.

Have you been there? Then you know not to wait around for callbacks with an ice cream cone melting in your hand.

Your dream is your baby. No one is going to hurt for it like you. You must take responsibility for every promise, every callback.

Follow up every meeting with a thank you that subtly summarizes what happened and thanks them for what they promised to do. Confirm every appointment after it is made. Reconfirm just before you go.

I Wish You Had Told Me That I Would Learn More From Failures Than Successes

Twice in my career I hit the wall, badly burned.

I won't share them now, not because I am ashamed of it, but because the stories are too gory and too long to relate now.

But I learned valuable life lessons from each:

First, you can get some of the worst advice from some of your best friends.

Second, while you're spending all your time trying to direct that big a8-wheeler full of money to your loading dock, don't let your garden wilt. While chasing really big deals on two separate occasions – deals that would have made me fantastically rich – I neglected the ordinary things that had been feeding me.

I Wish You Had Told Me That When You Have No Options You Can Trust Your Gut

There will come times when you come to a fork in the road – or a blind alley – and don't know what to do. No map. No road signs. You get conflicting advice from experts.

But you have a “gut feeling”. A “hunch”.

“Gut feelings” or “hunches” are actually the physiological expressions of the subconscious mind.

The subconscious is the permanent repository of everything you see, smell, taste, and feel. By definition, you can't call it up on demand. But it's on the hard disk nevertheless. And in God's wonderful machine called the mind, it signals us with visceral feelings that we can't quite read, and it sometimes influences our decisions when we hardly realize it.

As a praying Christian, I see another element at work in those “gut” signals. Out of all the bits and bytes on that mental hard disk, I can have a little help in the selection process.

Every morning before my feet hit the floor, I pray that God will lead me that day where He wants me to go. To encounter the people He wants me to learn from or mentor, to witness or minister to, to bless or be blessed by. This has been my habit for decades.

I cannot count the times those “hunches” led to “coincidences” that can only be explained by the God Factor.

You can tell it's a God Factor because the solution turns out to be totally unexpected best for all concerned.

You've heard of the expression attributed to Yogi Berra: “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

That's a true story, confirmed by one of his contemporaries, Jerry Grote, who was catcher on the 1969 World Series Champion Miracle Mets.

But Jerry also told the rest of the story, and it makes perfect sense.

Yogi had invited a bunch of players to a party in his home after an old-timers game and was describing how to get there turn by turn. When he got to a certain street, he said, “And when you get to a fork in the road, take it.”

You see, Yogi lived on a circular drive. When you came to that fork in the road, it didn't matter which road you took, you would come to his house.

Real life isn't always that simple. What do you do then? A couple of illustrations:

With barely a month in my post as Vice President of Mayes International, a fund-raising management firm, I helped land a contract to rescue a $100-million fund-raising campaign for Campus Crusade for Christ.

I had the help of a staff that included one VP that had been assigned to Eisenhower's staff by OSS to plan D-Day, the owner of our company and two former owners – a collection of 228 years of fund-raising experience.

In 90 days, we produced a plan that for $100-million first phase of a billion-dollar campaign that would begin with a super gifts run at gifts of $1 million or more and eventually role out into two other phases for lesser amounts by regions and states across the country.

Crusade accepted the idea, asked that I direct the campaign. That got me promoted to president of the company and changed my life forever.

It wasn't easy. Even selling Crusade staff was a challenge. It took nine hard months just to complete the case statement describing how they would spend the money to reach every country on earth.

Without delving details, there came a time a couple of years down the line where we saw that the machinery of such a plan would hinder, not help.

On a drive to deliver a draft of the case statement for Dr. Bright's approval, four of us – Executive Director and now Director Steve Douglass, the VP for Development Jim McKinney, Special Assistant to the President Robert Pittenger and I made a commitment to scrap the rest of the campaign plan and never stray from our first phase strategy to never ask for less than a million dollars from any donor.

It worked.

If I had time, I could explain why that worked. But my point here is that every one of us risked our jobs and careers on that decision made on that drive from Arrowhead Mountain to Palm Springs. It was a gutsy call, but we knew it was right.

The time came to announce to the world that Campus Crusade was going to raise a billion dollars to reach every country on earth with the gospel. Our planning team had spent two years developing a Case Statement that detailed continent by continent, country by country, program by program how Crusade would spend not one but two billion dollars.

We had assembled an International Executive Committee of 21 world leaders for the campaign and set a press conference at the International Press Club in Washington, D.C.

I had hired a prestigious PR firm to stage the event. We were in a dress rehearsal the afternoon before going through carefully crafted speeches for each participant. Dr. Bill Bright, his wife, and several leaders including Nelson Bunker Hunt, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans were on the platform along with a big screen filmed message from insurance tycoon and motivational expert W. Clement Stone.

It was a disaster. Nothing worked. I went to our high-priced PR specialist and he agreed, but suffered from cold feet exacerbated Since 1979 the "JESUS" film has been viewed by several billion people all across the globe, and has resulted in more than 225 million men, women and children indicating decisions to follow Jesus.

"Three quarters of all churches planted in the last decade around the world used the 'JESUS' film as part of the church planting process."by inflated ego and refused to stop the rehearsal. I went to my boss, who owned my company, and he didn't have the nerve to admit we were off-track. I went to Crusade's Executive Director with the same result.

I knew it could cost me my job. I knew it could throw a monkey wrench in the machinery of the campaign. But after Dale had ignored the script and rambled for about 20 minutes over her alloted 5 minutes and Roy had angrily refused to read from or memorize his brief statement, I strode down the aisle asking to speak.

“Folks,” I said, “I think all of us have been feeling this but have been afraid to speak up … this just isn't working like we thought.”

Many “amens” rippled through the room. “Would you give us permission to let all the good words about the why's of the campaign come from Bill Bright himself. That way we can loose these special leaders to speak from their hearts their brief testimonies of endorsement.

Sighs of relief and applause followed, Steve Douglass and I huddled over some notes and I wrote all night long. I slipped the final script under Dr. Bright's door at daybreak, in time for breakfast with the appreciative Roy and Dale.

The press conference was a ringer,.The rest is history.

Four decades later, every four seconds, somewhere in the world, another person indicates a decision to follow Christ after watching the "JESUS" film. That's 21,600 people per day, 648,000 per month and more than 7.8 million per year!

Since 1979 the "JESUS" film has been viewed by several billion people all across the globe, and has resulted in more than 225 million men, women and children indicating decisions to follow Jesus.

"Three quarters of all churches planted in the last decade around the world used the 'JESUS' film as part of the church planting process."

I Wish You Had Told Me That When the Going Gets Tough the Tough Get Creative

But that is a whole new session. You might want to hear it at some time in the future, for often, the answer to climbing out of a deep, dismal black hole is to shoot for the stars in a dramatic, bold, creative move.

The night before I resigned from a secure job in which I had security, prestige and a success record to launch my communications career, I was having cold feet.

What was I thinking? I was about to jump off the high diving board and trust that I could fill the pool before I splashed my brains out on concrete.

That night I was hosting a regional stewardship conference at the church I served. R.G. LeTourneau, the famous inventor, industrialist, educator and philanthropist, who made his fame and fortune building huge earth-moving equipment, was the featured speaker.

He was dynamic as he told about his meteoric rise to riches. But he confessed that he had lost everything … twice … along the way.

Then as he clawed his way bace the last time, he staked everything – his reputation plus ever dollar he could beg or borrow or promise – on one idea: the electric wheel. That released all limits on the size he could build earth-movers and propelled him to the top once again.(And at the time, he was giving ninety percent of his income to the Lord's work.

At a climax of his speech, LeTourneau paused, pointed right down at me as I sat on the front row and said, “And you know, there comes a time when you see a thing that must be done, and you just do it.”

The next morning, I did it. And I stand here in what is the twilight of my career in deep gratitude for that motivating trigger.

That night before he left, I told LeTourneau, “You thought God brought you here to give a stewardship message to a men's meeting. But God brought you here to deliver one sentence that I needed to hear.” And I told him why.

The next morning, presented my resignation and launched my career that has brought me to this day.

Let’s bring it home

Teaching, training and coaching creativity is what I have been doing for decades, often on specific projects and sometimes just for weekly breakfast or lunchtime creativity coaching counsel.

I am not retired. I just don't happen to have any active, paying clients since moving to Belton 31 months ago to marry my childhood sweetheart, JoAn Musick-Flowers.

I have been enjoying “living in the vestibule of heaven” as I've described it to my kids, spending most of my time doing for the several charities what I used to do to make my living.

I am considering starting one of my creativity cells on an invitation only basis. If any of you might have an interest in exploring membership in the cell … let's talk.

Full cell membership would require a modest fee and a commitment to restricted monthly members-only meetings and access to an online meeting service for follow-up counsel. Associate membership at a lesser fee would give access to two or three special-focus meetings each year and read-only access to the online meeting service.

I knew Pat Morris Neff ... and it changed my life

I was green and shy and barely 17 when I entered Baylor University as a freshman in the fall of 1946. And I was much in awe of Dr. Pat M. Neff, who was president of Baylor at the time.

It was not just that I had learned about his extraordinary record as governor of Texas while studying Texas history in the fourth grade. Or that later I heard preachers talk about his exemplary service while twice president of the Southern Baptist Convention. I had also listened to my father and uncle talk of hearing his stirring orations at political rallies and Fourth of July picnics.

I asked for a chapel seat assignment right down front and center. I didn't want to miss a thing the man had to say.

 When Dr. Neff stepped to the podium on that first day, he looked as if he had come to life from a color picture in a history book -- an erect, military, even god-like bearing, dark blue silk suit, long double-breasted coat, winged color and black, string bow tie in the manner worn by his Baylor classmate, Senator Tom Connally. And his long, silver hair, slightly tinted blue, curled up over the back of his collar.
As the crowd hushed, Dr. Neff grasped the pulpit stand with both hands and surveyed the crowd from side to side and said, "There is something you dumb freshmen must learn: Never let your studies interfere with your college education." He had our attention.

He spoke for 20 minutes on that subject, and it changed my life.

"Long after you have forgotten what you learn in the classrooms at Baylor," he said, "you will remember and continue to be blessed by the experiences you have and the people you meet."

Dr. Neff gave some very practical pointers about remembering experiences by tying them to their setting -- whether a building, a tree, a view, or a sunset. With some pride, he suggested that we glance at the silver dome and lighted cupula of Pat Neff Hall, which could be seen from any point on the campus at that time. "And years later," he said, "when you return for a homecoming, you will view it from that angle, and the memory of that experience will come alive."

As to the importance of the people we meet, Dr. Neff reminded us, "While you are here this year, some of the most important leaders of our time will cross this campus -- Artur Rubenstein will play a concert; and you will hear speakers such as Dr. Howard Conant, president of Harvard and father of the Manhattan Project that created the atomic bomb; the noted novelist Dixon Wecter, a Baylor alum; Col. James Sapp, Surgeon General of the United States, who personally rode a rocket sled to test whether a human could survive ejection from an aircraft at supersonic speeds. And Bob Hope and Spike Jones and his City Slickers will perform in this hall."

When our giggles wore down, Dr. Neff continued, "Don't just say, 'I was at Baylor when Artur Rubenstein was there.' Be able to say, 'I knew Artur Rubenstein.

"These people are as interested in what you think as you are in them. Often they are insulated by celebrity, separated from the people. Just walk up to them, stick out your hand and say, 'Hi, I'm Slime So-and-so!'

"Now, look around you," he said. "Go ahead, I'll wait."

There was an uneasy shuffle as we gawked at our neighbors.

"In less time than you know," he said, "those classmates whom you saw will be the leaders of our nation in government, business, medicine, religion ... Don't just say, 'I was at Baylor when so-and-so was there.' Be able to say, 'I knew so-and-so when I was at Baylor.'"

When the words and the ovation had ended, "That Good Ol' Baylor Line" had been sung, I floated out the front doors of Waco Hall, marched straight past Judge Baylor's statue and headed for Pat Neff Hall. I went straight to the president's secretary and announced, "I want to arrange an appointment with Dr. Neff!"

"May I say what the appointment is about?" she asked.\

"I just want to meet him," I said.

When the day came, as I was ushered into the office, Dr. Neff stepped around his desk and strode across the room with his hand extended. "Hi, Slime Dillard!" (He could read my name printed on the bill of my Slime cap.) "What can I do for you today?"

"Nothing, really, sir," I said. "Except, I really believed you in that first chapel service. And I don't want to say, 'I went to Baylor with Dr. Pat Neff was president.' I want to say, 'I knew Pat Morris Neff!"

He threw his head back and gave a belly laugh. "Well, what shall we talk about?" as he removed his coat and settled back in his throne-like chair.

I began by recalling his accomplishment in establishing the state's roadside parks system. Then I told of our family picnics and church hayrides to Mother Neff State Park near Moody, Texas. "I know there's a story there," I said. And he told me the story of the old home place where he grew up and of his love for his saintly mother, "to whom I owe everything I have become," he said.

We filled the next 20 minutes with talk of many things that have been long forgotten. But I will never forget that encounter, and it turned me around.

For the rest of my days at Baylor, whenever I would see Dr. Neff walking across the campus, greeting others with a smile and a nod, he would always call me by name. I knew Pat Morris Neff.

I had more occasions to be close to him, later as freshman president and as a member of a quartet that sang at some of his speaking engagements. But for the rest of my life, I have followed his advice and sought out some of the greats of our day, not content to say I was part of the audience.

Some of those whom I have met have become fast friends. Some will be subjects of other posts, for they were "hinges" of my history. Many have continued to open doors of opportunity. And all of them have enriched my life.

Photo record of Youth Revival Reunion

I have just posted a photo record of the Oct. 18-22 reunion of leaders of the youth revival movement at Baylor University. I shot from 125 to 240 photos each of the five days. I assembled them on my new MacPro, so I posted them on my .MAC site. The address is lengthy to type in your browser, so just click this link: http://web.mac.com/brotherblotz/iWeb/Youth Revivals Remembered/

I'll write more about it soon. This week of reunion was almost as life-changing as the experiences of the 1940s themselves. At least, it brought back all the emotions and made us all long to see "an old match light a new flame."

Rededications that stuck

Typical of teens during the revivals of the 40s, I "went down the aisle" many times in response to invitations to "rededicate my life." Many because I would keep returning to some of the mistakes that prompted those rededications.

Two, prompted by different problems, were unforgettable. They stuck.

One was during a service at a pre-school Baptist Student Retreat in 1946 just before I enrolled as a barely-17-year-old freshman ministerial student. I was fighting a spiritual tiger that could have made me turn and run. Don't believe me? I left my trunk in the dorm unpacked because I really pondered the possibility of changing my mind before I registered or took a single class.

One service, a speaker -- I'm sorry I can't remember who -- told a story about a person that had made a certain pledge. The impact of the words blew away the rest of the message from my mind, but this time, the powerful emotions didn't drive me down the aisle. Instead, I went to a quiet spot, took out my pen (that was already loaded with green ink) and carefully lettered those words into the front flyleaf of my pocket New Testament:

"I resolve so to live like Christ on Baylor's campus that if I were the only Christian there, others would come to know Christ through me."

I signed it and added: "Latham Springs, Fall of '46"

I didn't turn and run. I stuck. So did the pledge and the decision that prompted me to write it. Soon I was carrying that New Testament in the country community of Pendleton, where I became pastor. Then, on 127 youth revivals extending into my seminary days.

You can see a reproduction of the pledge, above, and others, including a back flyleaf that records the autographs of my special friend, Pat M. Neff, then president of Baylor, Warren Hultgren (with whom I served in thirteen youth revivals), Eunice Parker (Associate Director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas Student Department and team member at Calvary Baptist, Beaumont,in the first youth revival I served in 1948, my very first summer of campaigns), Browning Ware (teammate at First Baptist, Port Neches) and friends Weston Ware and Milton Cunningham. Also, there's another flyleaf page where I started my lifelong habit of recording "zinger" from sermons and conferences along the way.

The New Testament itself will be one of the relics of the youth revival era that will be placed in the Heritage Room of memorabilia at Truett Seminary, adjacent to the campus of Baylor University. I just hope that other students who glance at it will find it as meaningful as it has been to me for the span of sixty years.

The second experience involves a visit to a service at a city-wide youth revival held at Fort Worth's Will Rogers Auditorium. That did involve an aisle walking after a powerful service. But the glue that made it stick wasn't the choir or the sermon but the words spoken by Charles Wellborn, who was the receiving preacher at the aisle I walked. He stuck out his hand before I said a word and with those steely eyes that penetrate your soul said:

"Do you really mean it?

And in that instant, after I had just said to myself as I stepped into the aisle, "Here I go again," I answered, "Yes!"

I did. And the spiritual roller coaster was over. It took.

Cole Park 60 years later

Last Monday (Oct. 9, 2006), a few old friends gathered for lunch at Chili’s on Knox Street and then reconvened a few blocks away at Cole Park. Cole Park might not seem much like holy ground to you, but it was to BO and Dick Baker, Bob Feather, Russell Dilday, John “Bubba” Wood, Jack Griever, Bob Cooper, and me. (Pat Wood and Carolyn Feather were there as our photographers).

Cole Park was the site of the great Dallas City-Wide Youth Revival in 1946, the first "official" city-wide meeting held outside of Waco. It was the one that gave every participant in the youth revival movement the confidence that what happened in Waco could be duplicated across America and around the world. It was the revival that showed that what we had seen at Baylor was not man-made. As Bruce McIver termed it in the title to his history of the movement, we were “Riding the Winds of God.”

We listened to first-hand, insider stories from BO Baker — BO was the song leader for the meeting as well as one of the six young men who preached — and from Dick Baker, who sang a solo the night BO preached. We went on from there and swapped recollections of other meetings, other miracles, as the “winds of God” swept into many corners of the world. It produced the greatest groundswell of volunteers for religious service in hundreds of years if not in all history, and furnished the forces that have covered the globe with the gospel.

I had my digital recorder going. It's long, so it will take a while if you're not on broadband, but if you'd like to hear that conversation, you can download the WAV file by clicking here: Download cole_park_reunion.wav

But that was 1946. Sixty years ago. What does it have to do with us?

One lesson was immediately evident as I looked around that picnic table. BO has health problems that could shorten his days. Bubba is recovering from heart surgery to repair one artery with 95 percent blockage, another with 85 percent, another with 70 percent, and three ohers that ranged from 20 to 40 percent. Others had other stories of pain and trials, including my own broken heart. All of the above reminded us of the brevity of life.

The lesson? Whatever we are going to do for God, we must do quickly.

Another lesson: It will take a long time for each of us to sort it all out, but I felt a fore gleam of the answer in Bubba’s plea that the Lord might “use an old match to light a new fire.”

The lesson? God isn’t through with us yet, or else we wouldn’t have been there that day.

A week from tonight, I will join a number of others who were part of that great movement in the 1940s and 50s for a reunion. We will take part in Baylor's Homecoming festivities, including a football game, a Pigskin Review, and the dedication of a Heritage Room that will house a history of the youth revival movement along with photos and relics from the era. We'll share a lot of hugs and memories and catch up on what everyone has been doing for the last sixty years.

I'm excited about the fact most of us will speak to the current crop of Baylor students in classrooms of Baylor's Schools of Religion and Music as well as Truett Seminary, sharing what it was like to be caught up in the jet stream of the mightiest work of God in our Century.

Last but not least, we'll pray a lot, for the movement was born in prayer. Those in the know trace its beginnings to the fervent prayers of roommates M.D. Oates and Reiji Hoshizake for the youth of Waco. And we will join Dr. John Wood -- Bubba -- in his prayer that "an old match may light a new fire."

I could wish that it would happen while we're there. Do it again, God. Do it again.

Campus Crusade 30 Years Later

One of the hinges of my history has to be my encounter with Campus Crusade. That era will figure into anything I write or leave behind regarding my three decades of editorial cartoons. In the midst of that span I had more than one breath-taking plunge on the roller coaster, the most devastating of which was having to shut down my public relations and advertising service, Ministry of Ideas, and bury my dream of spending my life helping churches and religious organizations communicate the gospel in a more effective manner. Little did I know that within two years, that "failure" would lead me to become vice president of Mayes International, Inc., where my presence helped cinch a fund-raising contract with Campus Crusade for Christ.

I'll write more about how that came about in a later post. But what brings it to mind today is an email from a friend who quoted from a devotional by Crusade's founder, the late Dr. Bill Bright. What caught my eye was not the forwarded email (frankly, I delete most of those, especially when the subject line says "Fwd: Fwd: Fwd."). What captured -- and thrilled me -- was the summary comment tagged onto the end of his devotional. It was a current update on Campus Crusade's work around the world:

"The late Dr. Bill Bright was Founder and President/Chairman Emeritus of Campus Crusade for Christ, an organization which began as a campus ministry in 1951 and now has more than 27,000 full-time staff and up to 500,000 trained volunteer staff in 196 countries in areas representing 99.6 percent of the world's population. In the past 50 years, Campus Crusade for Christ has seen approximately 6 billion exposures to the gospel worldwide. The film, "JESUS," which Bright conceived and funded through Campus Crusade for Christ, is the most widely translated and viewed film of any type ever produced. Since its use began in 1980, the film has been translated into 839 languages and viewed or listened to by over 5.7 billion people in 228 countries. Dr. Bright was also the author of more than fifty books. Dr. Bright recently co-founded Global Pastors Network to "Touch, Teach and Train" a group of 5 million new house churches around the world"

That nearly complete saturation of the world with the gospel was a dream when I got the account, became editor of the campaign plan for "a hundred-million-dollar first phase of a billion-dollar campaign to get the gospel into every country on earth." I think the staff total was something under 3,000 at the time.

My role in that campaign was a life-changing experience for me. It would take the rest of my life to tell all the stories. But the most satisfying, the most fulfilling, the most gratifying, is that the "JESUS" film was conceived as a key element of our case statement for the fund-raising campaign. That case statement, a nine-month project spearheaded by Steve Douglass, then Crusade's Executive VP, who served as coordinator, and four members of Crusade's planning team, all of whom had Ivy League MBA's.

In the course of the campaign, film producer John Heyman came to Bill requesting prayer for his dream of presenting a powerful film presentation of Jesus that would merit a significant play in commercial theaters. Try as he would, he could find no one who would risk the kind of money it would take to create a film of competitive commercial quality.

Bill came to me and said, "Doug, is there any way that we could justify using some of our campaign funds to produce such a film?"

"Bill!" I answered. "That is dead center on one of the key elements of our case statement! It is exactly what we described was needed for our 'village strategy' that is so critical to reaching the huge masses that are functionally illiterate." (Our plan team defined 'village' as any population center less than 200,000; and, as I remember, that encompassed about 68 percent of the world's population at the time. I'll try to confirm all these figures later.)

As it happened, Dr. Joe Mayes, founder and owner of Mayes International, had a strong interest in how movie financing with limited partnerships worked. And he was an expert of course in organizing and operating non-profit corporations. He set up the mechanism. We challenged Nelson Bunker Hunt, chairman of our campaign's International Executive Committee, to designate about $6 million of his initial campaign pledge to finance the creation of the film.

One of the key provisions of the arrangement gave Campus Crusade the world-wide rights to the film after it had its commercial theater run.

The thing that none of us could foresee is that which gave the "JESUS" film its explosive global distribution -- the worldwide acceptance of VCR technology, the Internet, and DVDs. In the campaign case statement, we had to assume a strategy that involved two teams working in tandem: one advance team to go to population centers and plan an event, followed by a projection team to actually show the film and set up a plan of follow-up discipleship. Both teams were to use three-wheel motorcycles, projectors were to be kerosene-powered, and projection was to be on foldable screens that, if necessary, could be hung from trees.

We knew what needed to be done. We just didn't know all the wonderful tools God was preparing to speed us on our way.

You can read much more about the "JESUS" film at http://www.jesusfilm.org/.

I'd like to add the story of how I got involved in helping my sis, Doris (Mrs. Marshall) Edwards, an ESL specialist, who created "Window on the World," a 13-week ESL curriculum that uses episodes of the "JESUS" film as its "text." Or maybe this is already more than you wanted to know. Pardon my exhuberance over how God honored our day-by-day search for His will and how far it has gone in thirty years.

The sad thing is that it could have happened much more quickly. In 1976, when I first became involved, Bill's consuming goal was specifically stated to get the gospel into every country on earth by 1980. That's why we went for a billion. That's why I built the campaign plan on a motivation of urgency. That's why we spent almost two years "under the radar" sharpening the axe before even announcing the campaign.

But that's another story. I might tell it later. Stay tuned.

Free Baptists and the Fundy Fight

My very first Baptist Standard cartoon was about a controversy over a report on Texas Baptist educational institutions. But the longest running controversy, of course, was the struggle for the "outs" to oust the "ins" until they took over control of all the Baptist organizations and institutions. They did it, of course, with a well organized political machine and used the free election process by which the Southern Baptist Convention had successfully operated for many decades.

I grew up in an era when most people didn't know who was going to be placed in nomination for SBC president until they arrived at the convention. The good candidates bubbled up to the top through many years of service on the associational, district, and state convention levels. Many a convention had a choice between good, better, and best, all of whom had proved themselves in faithful service and support of denominational programs. The new way was to pick one candidate, notify all the trusted leaders who that would be, and then rally busloads of supporters to go to the SBC for the election sesson. It made for record-busting convention attendances, but once the ballots were cast, the attendees at subsequent sessions rattled around like two peas in a boxcar.

One prominent architect of the takeover, a Florida pastor, was asked about a matter of business that was on the docket for the upcoming convention, "How do you think your people will vote on this?" He replied, "They'll vote the way I tell them to vote or they won't go as messengers!" That was in the back of my mind as I drew the "Free Baptists" cartoon that appears in the accompanying Photo Album. Comments? Do you have a story that illustrates or contradicts my observations?

Think snippets and sidebars, not epics

A couple of dear friends responded quickly to my call for help, but back-pedaled a bit because the task loomed too large. Let me clarify: I'm not asking here for historical epics or lengthy essays. Think snippets and sidebars. You can add a quick comment right below one of my blogs. Your reminiscences could well spark a longer collaboration, if you're interested in that. But let me clarify what I'm looking for by quoting what I wrote one of those friends:

"The "blog" is just a means of soliciting input on the items that I put up for bait. The book might have few sales. But it is the complete, searchable database of cartoons, editorials, historical sidelights, and personal stories that will be a lasting legacy. We owe it to the generations to come. The present generation of leaders many times have rewritten history and are doing a poor job of preserving the past. They have no understanding or appreciation for our roots. And that's not just a Baptist thing, it's a generational thing characteristic of other denominations, Christian groups, and our society as well.

"What I'd like from you are brief snippets and sidebar stories about the things you sensed as well as what you saw in this era of change. You wrote the facts as you went along. But your X-ray vision penetrated the facade. You heard their words in interviews but you also read their attitude. And I know those sharp ears listened to the bookstore-exhibits-and-hallway conversations that told you what was really going on.

"And I will guard anything you want held confidential and honor any requests for anonymity, if you want it that way. But let's leave this legacy."

What "events" and "issues" do I mean?

Just to give you an idea about your input and comments I seek from those who were players (or victims) of the changes of this era (1968 through 1998) -- I am cross-indexing my cartoons for the interactive CD-ROM/DVD research tool into such events as Watergate, Space Race, Viet Nam, 60s Riots, Cold War, just for starters. Issues for indexing purposes are matters like Emergence of Woman Power and Lay Involvement (and the countering CEO/Pastor Concept), Information Age, Worship Styles, Religious Right, Sanctity of Life (Abortion Issues), Fundamentalist Takeover, and many others. The people, organizations, and institutions are too numerous to mention. You get the idea. These are starters and are suggested topics for your comments and stories. The final product needs to be a searchable, interactive database that will help one locate any editorial cartoon, editorial, historical note, and personal comment or story by event, issue, date, or name.