In Loving Memory of Jonathan Bernard Howard ---

July 10, 1978  -  October 13, 2000

I remember Jon as the type of guy who was big and tough when you first met him. For weeks after coming to the Ranch, Jon was aloof. It was at Sunday School at First Baptist in Tyler that the dam finally broke. One of the teachers, Dave Prigmore, had taught Jon for several weeks with no response. One Sunday, Dave brought his 5-year-old son with him. Jon came up and asked if this was his son. When Dave confirmed that he was, Jon said, “Let him sit with me. No one will bother him.” That was the beginning of a big change in Jon and a long-term relationship between Jon and the Prigmore family.

God gave Jon another push when he met the Brooks family through their daughter, Amy. As a result of their concern and investment in Jon’s life, he surrendered to the ministry and began to preach. Jon’s involvement with Christian folks began to paint for him a picture of his future.

For over two years, we helped Jon keep his life on track. I remember well graduation time and the immense pride all of us felt as he received his diploma. He had asked to invite a few friends over to the house for a graduation “get together.” We planned for 10 or less. Over a hundred showed up! The traffic was backed up all through the ranch. What a night!

Over the next couple of years, Jon went up and down. He attended TJC and got involved in a Fraternity. Then, he moved to Hillsboro and started school there. Each time he got a start, he would begin to focus more on the social and less on the studies. At 6 p.m. on Friday, October 13, he called Dave Prigmore in Dallas asking for help. He told him how he was going to church at the Emmanuel Temple that night. Dave talked with him and agreed to send him help.

As we were able to piece together the events of his last day, one thing became abundantly clear - Jon was not happy with life as usual. He had made efforts to change even on that Friday. His roommate told how Jon insisted he was going to church on Friday evening with him, even though it was not a regular service. Even when his roommate ran late, Jon insisted on going. The soloist in the church that evening later related that Jon had an expression of peace and joy on his face that reflected his inner faith. In Jon’s own words entered into his journal on that fateful Friday, “I know now what to do. I must get rid of Double J and all of the old, and take on the new.” He had even resolved to begin a fast.”

As he returned from church that night, Jon’s life came to an abrupt end. What happened was not pretty, but it was powerful. It reminds us once again that life is not promised. It is a gift. Just as Jon treasured his last hours on earth, so should we. Lest we forget, Jon’s words remind us of the words of our Lord:

Welcome home, Jon. No one can ever bother you again!

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