User:Roundhousedadmade/sandbox

Daddy’s story cannot be told in a few pages or a two hour movie. Robert Kendrick was raised in Chilton County, had 12 siblings and a domineering, and dangerous dad, Thelbert. I heard from dad and his siblings, many stories of the hateful things that Thelbert did to his family and neighbors. I get a sickening lump in my throat when I think about him. I even experienced a little of his ugliness when I was about 11. My daddy was just blessed to make it into adulthood. He retired from the Air force as a Sergeant; then, at the end of 1965, he became an Alabama State trooper. I believe that somewhere in his youth, he chose not to be like his dad, because he was not. He simply loved people and had a passion and concern for all colors, poor and rich folks. He had a riveting testimony about finding God and Jesus when he was about 30 years old. After our first son was born, I too received God and Jesus but only on my knees in my kitchen floor. I suppose that I try to model my life after daddy’s life because he embedded the term Christ-like in his life and, this is what I seek to do everyday. When he died, there were many people at his funeral and I did not know allot of them. While I was standing at his casket, a very old Black woman came up. Her cloths were clean but worn and her shoes were used, broken in and past the criteria of nice, just comfortable. I put my arm around her shoulder and asked her how she knew my dad. She looked at him with sad, teary eyes and said, “He helped me, he helped us, he was a good man and I am sorry to hear about him leaving”. She turned and ambled back down the isle to the arms of some people waiting on her. Whatever he did, she loved him for it. I love him for helping her. Most of the original Vietnamese Boat-people that came to live with us in 1979, flew in from all over the United States to be at his funeral. When my parents heard the horror stories of the Vietnamese being persecuted, they decided to sponsor a family. The first to come were Minh, Vuong and Juong, three teenage boys. Dad built apartments in his tool shop for them to live in until they could financially get on their feet. They were physically threatened and dad was threatened by white men in our community. Dad was six foot two inches and he told those men that they would have to go through him first, and then it would be over his dead body to get to our Vietnamese. They thought they might be slaves when they first arrived in Calera. My sisters and I thought that might eat our dogs. We laugh about those times when we get together and tell our children our stories. We always get together, holidays or not, several times a year. They are my brothers and sisters. Daddy never said it I words but he showed that love is a treasure. I learned by his example that the more I shear it with folks the richer I become. I want our boys to learn the importance of loving like Jesus loves. Dad first built the House of Prayer in Calera, then, between two open heart surgeries, he built our Round House in Calera.