Pop

First of all, let my acknowledge what a privilege it is speak about one of the most unique individuals I have ever met, Wayne Clancy. Pop.

Like a lot of you, I met Pop at the ball field, Oregon Park. There was a little boy there that had a word on back of his jersey. That word was “Knieriem” and I grew up with some Knieriems  in Beverly Hills (the subdivision in East Cobb- not California- I just like saying that to sound pretentious). Sure enough, the little boy was the son of our old pal, Butch Knieriem. I remember seeing this older man at all of the baseball games. He never missed. It was Wayne Clancy. Pop.  He was there rooting for his grandson, Kyle. But the thing about Pop is that he rooted for the other kids as well. You also learned that Pop never met a stranger.

Soon we were in the Kennesaw Mountain High School Football program and that’s where I really became friends with Wayne. From 2003 to 2008.We would sit around watching the practices together.  Pop and I would  chew the fat, gossip and solve the world’s problems. I learned he used to work for a bank and he graduated from The University of Louisville. He loved history and was delighted to learn that I graduated with a degree in history from Kennesaw State.

By the way, I know there are many denominations and faith traditions represented here today and you may not be comfortable doing this, but hey, I’m a Baptist and that’s how we roll.  Raise your hand if Pop Clancy ever told you that you were his hero.  He said to me, “Alan, you’re my hero!" I said, "Thanks, Pop, why is that?"  He said,  "Because you’re the only history major I know that has a job.”

It was at the practices that I learned Pop was a man of faith. He wanted to find a “church home” and decided to come  here to Roswell Street, where he joined the same Sunday School class as my in-laws. Who then in turn invited Pop to our various family functions.  The one meal I will always remember was the one in which my mother in law and Pop started discussing the pleasure of  smoking “rabbit” tobacco. I don't quite know what "rabbit" tobacco is except that it is a good smoke.

I always say the only thing I have going for me is my punctuality, but Pop had me beat. One time, the Mustangs were playing Woodstock  in Woodstock. My wife, Lori, had a company meeting she had to attend and would have to meet me at the game.  I said, “No problem, I’ll just drive my car up there”. Lori then explained to me that if I drove my car to the game, we would have two vehicles at the game. And that would be wrong.

She suggested that I contact Mark Rudder and catch a ride with him because his wife was going to be out of town. I really didn’t want to-I didn’t want to impose and plus, Mark has a different view of time than I do. It is okay with him to arrive at an event ten minutes before the start, unlike an hour before the start like I do.

Well, my wife and I discussed it and we came to a compromise: I would do exactly what she told me to do.  I contacted Mark Rudder to see if I could catch a ride with him to the game.  Mark graciously agreed to take me and as a concession to my obsessive-compulsive disorder, we went up to the game early.  We got to the Woodstock High stadium about 15 minutes before they opened the ticket booth at 6:30.  Because of this, the stadium was locked.

We waited around and finally they opened the ticket booth and the gate. When we got in, we saw one person in the visitor’s stands: Pop. “How long have you been here, Pop?” I asked him.  He said, “I’ve been here since 3:30. They locked the gate on me!”

 In the Baptist Church you will hear that “someone has a heart for young people”. Truth be told most of the time that means the person likes the  “cool kids at the cool lunch table”.   The Varsity.  The King and Queen of the Prom.

I can honestly say to every young person here that Wayne loved you. He loved the Varsity and The Junior Varsity. He didn’t care if you were first string or last string. He didn’t care if you hit a home run or if you struck out. He didn’t care if you scored a touchdown or if you fumbled. He didn’t care if you were pretty. He didn’t care if you were ugly. He didn’t care if you were rich. He didn’t care if you were poor. He didn’t care if your Dad graduated Summa Cum Laude or like me, “Praise Laude”.  He just loved you because you were here and that was a good enough reason for Pop.

You will hear a lot of people talk about Pop and prayer. I have never met a person who prayed as much as Pop. I never met a person who prayed more for young people than Pop.  Pop took prayer very seriously and it would upset him when a kid would do something and make a mistake. I’ve heard him say, more than once “Maybe I wasn’t praying hard enough”. That is hard to believe.

For those of you that don’t know, Pop has 2780 (and counting) Facebook Friends. I can guarantee you that he has prayed for all 2780 friends.  One time I saw “the list” of all of the young people he prayed for.  When I saw it, I think he had about 2500-3000- kids on it. My understanding is that the list grew to include the names of six thousand kids. Off the top of my head, I can name of several kids who had no idea Pop was praying for them and I can see how God has worked through their lives.

I know he prayed for Benjamin William Manis when Ben went to Georgia Southern University, which is the capital of Hedonism in state of Georgia. He prayed Ben through Finance, Accounting, Business Statistics,etc.  (and he wasn’t the only one!) . Ben graduated from Georgia Southern. He has a job, a wife, and is out of the house. If that’s not an answer to prayer, I don’t know what is.

Pop really loved Facebook. He would post devotionals and would make comments on various other posts. One time I posted a verse from my favorite Bob Dylan song, “Every Grain of Sand”. Pop liked this particular post. The verse says:

I gaze into the doorway of temptation’s angry flame
    And every time I pass that way I always hear my name
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand

If there is anyone who knew that every hair is numbered like every grain of sand it was my friend, Wayne Clancy.