The Chaff

A couple of Saturdays back I stepped off a plane in Birmingham, Alabama and hurriedly re-entered the routine I had left just a week earlier. The previous 7 days had been spent on a mission trip in Northern Ireland with a group of 45 teens, adult volunteers and church staff from Oak Mountain Presbyterian Church. I began the week uncertain of what influence and impact would be achieved in such a short time frame.

To begin with, Northern Ireland is a beautiful country with a rich and complicated history. Its people are generous and warm. In its relatively short past, Northern Ireland has lived many years beyond the less than one hundred years of its existence.

So as not to "reinvent the wheel" in outlining the events of our week there, I am grateful to Elizabeth Bush who has succinctly described the mood and atmosphere as well as the logistics of our venture. With her permission, I have included a link to her blog. It's a good read!

In her blog, Elizabeth described a group of kids who had been asked to leave the nightly teen meeting because they were being defiantly disruptive. She writes, "The N(orthern) Ireland teens had many different names for them. We heard one girl refer to them as chaffs. That comment hit me hard because I felt that it reflects a belief that those kids had been given up on. They were looked at as unreachable as though they had already been separated from the wheat and now ready for judgment."

In reading that description my thoughts went back to a pre-teen boy sitting in a meeting at church camp. He felt isolated, as if he didn't belong. He was oblivious to the teacher speaking to the packed room of kids at the winter camp at the Forest Home retreat center in the San Bernadino Mountains of Southern California. In fact, this young kid had his back turned, not hearing a word that was said. He had been invited by his aunt to attend a weekend getaway to learn about God. To this day, though he was at that time apparently untouched by the content of any messages delivered, remembers only wanting to fit in. His lack of familiarity with the church and with God kept him on the fringe of all but rebellion and the outward appearance of a lack of interest.

That child was me. Even at that camp all those years ago I remember being drawn to the sense of family that I experienced, yet felt, as an outsider looking in, that I wasn't good enough. It would be years later that I would come to the understanding that I was, in fact, not good enough. I had learned that I was brought into this world estranged from a Holy God. And the only person who satisfied God's righteous requirement was Jesus who lived a perfect life, died and rose again to pay the price for my life of rebellion.

So that night in Northern Ireland I was surrounded by my wife and 2 children who early in their lives had come to understand the gift of forgiveness found in Christ and were working with their teammates in that meeting trying to figure out how to reach out to the 'chaffs' in the room. And there, while wrestling with frustration and anger at this small but vocal group disrupting the event, it occurred to me that I, as a teenager, was the one who had stirred up strife in the few church meetings I had attended.

I still don't understand why it would be more than a decade before I found forgiveness in God through Christ. Yet I knew at that moment in the meeting at Lisnabreen Church in Bangor, County Down, that the same hope exists for my rebellious friends that existed for me when my back was turned all those years ago. There is acceptance and belonging that cannot be earned but comes as a gift. So, like me, though some may face years of seaching and wandering, there is a purpose and plan in Christ for the 'chaffs' of this world.

Independence Day

Next to Christmas, Independence Day is my favorite holiday. Its' significance and celebration runs deep in my personal history. I remember the pride I felt as a child to have been born in America and to have been given great opportunity as a citizen of this nation. And now, as a father, I cling to the hope that the importance of this day will hold fast in my children as they eventually move on and start a family and traditions of their own.

It's not just the historical events in our nation's founding that stir the induglent satisfaction associated with this day; the time of year, the getting-together with family and the inevitable preparations to pull it all off are equally as honored as welcomed traditions.

In late June in Southern California, the sun was hot and the sidewalks burned like embers that initiated bare feet in a right of passage as my brothers and I walked to the newly constructed fireworks stands that rose like a phoenix from the year before. Due to fire restrictions, we were not given access to the firecrackers and pyrotechnics that are readily available here in Alabama, but never mind! The rows of smoke pots, roman candles, sparklers and the like inside that Freedom or Black Cat stand were enough to spark a young boy's imagination that his big event would rival neighboring Disneyland!

Whether we stayed at home or met with friends and family, this was a big day. Like waiting for Halloween, the inevitable approach of dusk created anxiety that never hastened night's sooner arrival. Yet night always came. The traditional meal of ribs, potato salad, corn on the cob and homemade ice cream (hand cranked, thank you) had been eaten and everyone gathered outside for "The Big Show". A leader always seemed to emerge from the group who manned the torch and dictated the protocol for lighting each piece. Of course, we all kept "punks" and ignited the sparklers at will.

But this was more than just watching the bombs "bursting in air". It was a celebration of who we were. In this setting, whether we were cousins, brothers, sons or nephews twice removed, we were all Americans tonight and we carried within us the deep satisfaction of knowing we were collectively a part of something bigger than all of us as individuals.

And that feeling carries over to today. As I sit on my back porch in the quietness of the morning I know that today will quickly get busy as Beth, Tessa and Jonathan and I run about putting the final preparations on a few days with family. There will be movies, music, laughter, reminiscing and plenty of good food. We will pray and thank God for his blessings to us and to our nation. We will also pray that, in this crucial time in our history, we will remain One Nation Under God. We will wait for sunset on Monday and watch the fireworks illuminate the sky. And we will revel as we revere our Independence Day!

Living In The Shadow of Disney

My Dad took a job in the early-50s with Los Angeles County. Within the first few years of employment, he and Mom heard about a new subdivision going up "in the countryside" of Fullerton from my grandfather who was a subcontractor working on the new homes. Mom and Dad secured a mortgage on the 3/2 on Southgate Avenue for $15,000 and change and settled in to their new bedroom community where my Dad would travel the freeway to and from work for the next 30 years. I would come along a few years later as the last of the 3 Harvill boys.

In 1954 and '55, construction of another sort was going on in Anaheim, the next town over. The specific site was chosen as an ideal place to take advantage of the traffic heading to the beaches. A new concept in family entertainment that was the dream of Walt Disney was quickly taking shape.

I don't remember the first time I visited Disneyland. I only know that I was captivated by the all-encompassing magic it presented. Over the years my Dad, Mom, 2 brothers and me made regular trips to the Magic Kingdom and, when we couldn't be there, on summer evenings at 9 o'clock, we could sit on our roof and watch the Disney fireworks in the distance.

But there was nothing like being there! Upon entering the tunnel leading to Main Street, I gained an appreciation for history (through Great Moments with Mr Lincoln), for nostalgia, for attention to detail and a level of quality that is still unmatched. It would be years before I would realize the full impact that Disneyland had on me.

Looking back, the innovation, creativity and vision that still represents the Walt Disney dream has had a profound affect on my views of entertainment and business. As the member of a band in the early 80s, the Disney approach to quality showmanship influenced the way I approached tours and concerts. The way customers are treated in my sales career has been motivated by the way I was treated as a guest at Disneyland.

There was also the feeling that when at Disneyland, you could rub shoulders with the Stars. Back in those days, the Osmonds were frequent guests doing shows on the Tomorrowland stage and could be seen, at times, strolling through the park. Pat Paulsen, a comedian known for running a mock presidential campaign in the late 60s could also be seen. Harry James, the trumpeter/bandleader/arranger from the Big Band era was there as well. The Coca-Cola Tomorrowland Terrace stage ascended from underground with the band playing before you could see them. The groups that played there were mostly cover bands (Voyager, Papa Doo Run Run, Michael Iceberg)and were quite good; actually larger than life to this up-and-coming drummer. One of the last shows I remember seeing was with The Hager Twins who would go on to spend many years as part of the cast of Hee Haw.

Since moving "back east" to finally settle in Birmingham, Alabama, I have now logged many hours in Walt Disney World which has become a favorite vacation spot of my family. Yet, my loyalty to Walt's original has not wavered. Its' allure is tied to the brass plaque outside the tunnel at the entrance to the park where Disney himself frequently walked before his death in 1966: "Here you leave today and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow and fantasy".

So, I guess the reason that formula still works is that it's always good to get away. Whether it was 10 minutes away as a kid, or 9 hours today, the Disney adventure intrigues and captivates me and Disney World remains one of the favorite places my family and I love to vacation.

Chuck Jones, The Magic Man

There were 3 events that, as a kid, created a stir of excitement; you know, the can't-sleep-the-night-before kind of anticipation. They were, in order of importance, Christmas, going to Disneyland, and the Chuck Jones, The Magic Man show at Pacific Drive Elementary School.

The 1st 2 I'll leave for another time. But the Chuck Jones magic show was a big deal. We had to wait the entire day for the show that came once a year and was set up on a stage in the field behind the kindergarten and 1st grade wing of the school. To begin with, Chuck had a cool name. He shared it with the Warner Bros. director who brought to life Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd and Porky Pig. I was certain, at the time, that they were one and the same. Magic was just his day gig!

Chuck even had an assistant which enhanced his mystique and furthered his legitimacy. During one part of the show he caused her to levitate and passed the metal "hula hoop" around her to verify that no strings were attached. Beyond that, I don't remember any of the specific illusions he created except for the fact that this 1st or 2nd grader was blown away!

The other night I was google-ing a few icons from my past, particularly the children's shows I watched as a kid; Sheriff John, Hobo Kelly and Wonderama. Chuck Jones came to mind and I searched him out. Well, there he was! He's still at it having spent the last 17 years traveling Australia and New Zealand as well as performing shows throughout North America. So, I sent a message to the e-mail address on his website inquiring as to whether or not he was the magician who visited my school in the late 60s and early 70s. A couple of days later, I received this reply:

I had a children's television show in Los Angeles in the early sixties and did many personal appearances at schools and shopping centers.

We moved on to build a much bigger magic act that has appeared in casinos, toured Australia and New Zealand.

I am still performing--this week in fact, at the Magic Castle, Hollywood.

Chuck Jones

Wow! Still going strong! Somehow knowing that he has been at it for 5 decades and counting encourages me to continue in my pursuits. As a young impressionable kid sitting in the grass watching this showman perform his feats of skill, I'm sure that experience contributed to my decision to audition for the annual talent show, play in garage bands, head out on the road for a few years, record, and continue to play in and around Birmingham, Alabama today. No tours of Australia, New Zealand or the Magic Castle to be sure. But, perhaps there might be a kid out there someday who sees a show and himself is encouraged to pursue his own dreams of magic or music. Ah, the circle of life. . .

Time Passages

Time lapse photography has always intrigued me. The ability to capture an event or period of time and present it in a matter of seconds is fascinating. My earliest remembrances of this media marvel date back to assembly programs in elementary school watching Disney nature films as they showed a flower blooming or a caterpillar enclosing itself in a cocoon and emerging "moments" later as a butterfly.

A few years back, our gang of 4 had the opportunity to visit New York City and take in all the usual sights. One familiar locale that stood out to me is Grand Central Station, or as it is correctly called, Grand Central Terminal. On average, over 500,000 people travel through there each day. The Main Concourse with its iconic clock serves as the primary thoroughfare for commuters entering and leaving the Big Apple. Watching a time lapse video of this busy venue(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t8tpphnqD9w) presents a bee-hive like blur of activity; people coming and going while the clock atop the main information booth sits patiently by, reminding the participants of the reality of their chronological constraints.

Fast forward to the Harvill house of late. We are in that phase of life where Beth's and my weekends look somewhat like the clock in Grand Central Terminal. Tessa and Jonathan raise such a dust cloud of activity around us with their social and academic pursuits, we simply sit and wait, enjoying the fullness of their lives while making ourselves available to assist with transportation or monetary needs (within limits). Now, to be sure, we take every advantage of the freedom those activities present to enjoy each others' company. Yet, these times help us to realize that while time waits for no one and kids grow up while we grow older, the blessings, joys and struggles of the days of our lives are a wonderful reminder of the grace and mercies of God. Like that clock in Grand Central Terminal, He remains unchanged and ever vigilant to watch over us throughout our journey on earth.