I’m 57 years old and I feel the need to write about three men who have had an influence in my life – Walter Pritchard Sr., Earl Wilson Jr., and Bishop Richard Burruss.
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in•flu•ence
noun
1. The capacity or power of persons or things to be a compelling force on or produce effects on the actions, behavior, opinions, etc., of others: He used family influence to get the contract.
2. The action or process of producing effects on the actions, behavior, opinions, etc., of another or others: Her mother's influence made her stay.
3. A person or thing that exerts influence: He is an influence for the good.
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My father
As I write my thoughts down, three men come to mind: the first man is my father, Walter Pritchard Sr. which seemly should be an obvious choice. He died December 31, 1968 when I was 14 years old.
I didn’t know him that well; my memories of him are faint and unpleasant. Our relationship, from my perspective, wasn’t good. Maybe that’s why I dropped “the Jr.” in my name a long time ago. But over the years, people who knew him have told me that Walter Sr. was a good man, a caring father and a hard worker that provided for his family.
He was a brick layer in the 1950’s-60’s. For a black man back then he had to do what he had to do. Perhaps that’s way I didn’t know him well – he was working so much to put a roof over my head and food on the table for me, my mother, Thelma, and my four siblings.
I remember on Fridays, Daddy would bring home vanilla ice-cream and we would have a ball. That and a few other memories are all that I can remember. Perhaps as I write, more memories will become clearer.
One other memory I have: He hit my momma. Daddy I forgive you.
My former boss
The next man that comes to mind is the late Earl Wilson Jr., whom I briefly worked for at the St. Louis Gateway Classic Sports Foundation 1995-96. I was PR/media director.
Earl was a driven man because of his heartfelt desire to give back to the community by helping African-American youth attend to college. The Gateway Classic, which he founded and initially funded with his own money, sponsors the annual black college football game at the St. Louis Edward Jones Dome. Since 1995, the foundation has given millions of dollars in college scholarships to poor black youth as well as contributed to black organizations that help black folks.
My experience with Earl was nerve-racking most of the time because he was so intense, demanding and self-centered. He ran his organization with an iron fist, oftentimes rubbing people the wrong way – to put it mildly. But I learned from Earl to stand on what you believe in, no matter what people think about you. Earl would tell me, “Walt, spit out my bad points and embrace my good.” I did a lot of spitting, but I also did a lot of embracing. I’m a better man for it.
My former pastor
The third man is the late Bishop Richard Burruss, who was my pastor at Transformation Christian Church & World Outreach Center. I met him shortly after he and his wife, Pastor Pricellious J. Burruss, founded TCCWOC in 1989. My wife and I became members.
I didn’t know him when he was a notorious St. Louis gangster and drug lord prior to Jesus turning his life around. I’d heard about his past because he wasn’t shy about sharing it.
Bishop had a deep passion for saving souls. He wasn’t an eloquent speaker but he was real, down home, the type of person you could relate too. He could feel your pain!!! He was a no nonsense type of preacher that didn’t compromise the Word of God, but related to you in a way that said, “Okay, I’ve been there. I’ve done this, that and the other thing. Yes it hurts, but look at me now. I’m a new creation in Christ Jesus. You can do it to, Walter!”
I remember the men at the church were engaged in an all-nigh shut-in when a crazed man strung out of something broke into my car while by busting a window. When we discovered what had happened, we ran out and chased the man down, bringing him back to the church. We called the police. Bishop was extremely angry about what had happened to one of his members. In a spilt moment, my pastor wanted to “lay hands on the man.” And I don’t mean to pray for him.
He felt what I felt. I will never forget that genuine connection with a man of God, a role model…and a friend.
______________________________________________________________________
in•flu•ence
noun
1. The capacity or power of persons or things to be a compelling force on or produce effects on the actions, behavior, opinions, etc., of others: He used family influence to get the contract.
2. The action or process of producing effects on the actions, behavior, opinions, etc., of another or others: Her mother's influence made her stay.
3. A person or thing that exerts influence: He is an influence for the good.
_____________________________________________________________________
My father
As I write my thoughts down, three men come to mind: the first man is my father, Walter Pritchard Sr. which seemly should be an obvious choice. He died December 31, 1968 when I was 14 years old.
I didn’t know him that well; my memories of him are faint and unpleasant. Our relationship, from my perspective, wasn’t good. Maybe that’s why I dropped “the Jr.” in my name a long time ago. But over the years, people who knew him have told me that Walter Sr. was a good man, a caring father and a hard worker that provided for his family.
He was a brick layer in the 1950’s-60’s. For a black man back then he had to do what he had to do. Perhaps that’s way I didn’t know him well – he was working so much to put a roof over my head and food on the table for me, my mother, Thelma, and my four siblings.
I remember on Fridays, Daddy would bring home vanilla ice-cream and we would have a ball. That and a few other memories are all that I can remember. Perhaps as I write, more memories will become clearer.
One other memory I have: He hit my momma. Daddy I forgive you.
My former boss
The next man that comes to mind is the late Earl Wilson Jr., whom I briefly worked for at the St. Louis Gateway Classic Sports Foundation 1995-96. I was PR/media director.
Earl was a driven man because of his heartfelt desire to give back to the community by helping African-American youth attend to college. The Gateway Classic, which he founded and initially funded with his own money, sponsors the annual black college football game at the St. Louis Edward Jones Dome. Since 1995, the foundation has given millions of dollars in college scholarships to poor black youth as well as contributed to black organizations that help black folks.
My experience with Earl was nerve-racking most of the time because he was so intense, demanding and self-centered. He ran his organization with an iron fist, oftentimes rubbing people the wrong way – to put it mildly. But I learned from Earl to stand on what you believe in, no matter what people think about you. Earl would tell me, “Walt, spit out my bad points and embrace my good.” I did a lot of spitting, but I also did a lot of embracing. I’m a better man for it.
My former pastor
The third man is the late Bishop Richard Burruss, who was my pastor at Transformation Christian Church & World Outreach Center. I met him shortly after he and his wife, Pastor Pricellious J. Burruss, founded TCCWOC in 1989. My wife and I became members.
I didn’t know him when he was a notorious St. Louis gangster and drug lord prior to Jesus turning his life around. I’d heard about his past because he wasn’t shy about sharing it.
Bishop had a deep passion for saving souls. He wasn’t an eloquent speaker but he was real, down home, the type of person you could relate too. He could feel your pain!!! He was a no nonsense type of preacher that didn’t compromise the Word of God, but related to you in a way that said, “Okay, I’ve been there. I’ve done this, that and the other thing. Yes it hurts, but look at me now. I’m a new creation in Christ Jesus. You can do it to, Walter!”
I remember the men at the church were engaged in an all-nigh shut-in when a crazed man strung out of something broke into my car while by busting a window. When we discovered what had happened, we ran out and chased the man down, bringing him back to the church. We called the police. Bishop was extremely angry about what had happened to one of his members. In a spilt moment, my pastor wanted to “lay hands on the man.” And I don’t mean to pray for him.
He felt what I felt. I will never forget that genuine connection with a man of God, a role model…and a friend.
