Remembering Alan Day and Don Vinzant

© David Hartman

     Years ago, a reporter for a dying newspaper in a thriving Oklahoma suburb convinced his managing editor to begin a regular religion section in the paper, covering news and events relevant to members of the community's dozens of churches.

     That's how I met Alan Day, pastor of Edmond's First Baptist Church. As I shared with local pastors and ministers the paper's plans for expanded coverage of religious topics and local church events, many were skeptical or confused. Why would a newspaper that never really cared before about their activities if it didn't involve buying an advertisement start to care now? I understood the skepticism. But a good number of local church leaders were enthusiastic about the change, and Day was among my biggest and earliest cheerleaders in that effort.     

     In the year plus that would follow before I left that newspaper, Day regularly offered encouragement and story ideas. I launched a "read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year" campaign as part of the paper's religious coverage. I asked the local clergy to contribute to a weekly column on Fridays, offering something from the week's scheduled readings that made the Bible relevant to our lives today. Alan was one of the backbones of that weekly column, taking his regular turn in the rotation, as well as occasionally penning something on short notice when another minister forgot his turn. And his material never disappointed.

Alan Day

     Alan and his wife invited me one evening for the church's Wednesday evening meal and Bible class, and were gracious hosts. I was impressed by Alan's teaching ability, and he took the time to introduce me to as many people as he could while I was there. Everyone I came in contact with at that congregation was warm and friendly. Based on their welcome, it's easy to see why they are a large, growing church. I know the folks on staff at Edmond's First Baptist are good-to-the-core in their own right, but I guess I always attributed much of that general culture to Alan's leadership there.

     So I was saddened a couple of weeks ago to learn that Alan died suddenly in a motorcycle accident, leaving behind a wife, children, grandchildren and literally multitudes of lives he touched through his ministry. My community lost a giant that day.

     Edmond lost an equal spiritual giant Thursday with the passing of Don Vinzant, the longtime minister at the Edmond Church of Christ, just up the street on Bryant from where Day ministered for more than two decades. Vinzant died after a brief illness.

     I knew Don better than I knew Alan, primarily because we both worked at Oklahoma Christian University for a number of years. I was always drawn to Don's genuine, warm personality. Though I've been away from OC for a number of years, I'd still bump into Don occasionally on campus, or at Panera Bread across the street from the church.

     Don would always take the time for a visit. Our favorite topic of conversation was Bobby and Tamie Ross. Don knew that Bobby and I were close friends since our days as students at OC together. Don would gush about the Rosses to the extent that I often wondered if we were talking about the same Bobby and Tamie Ross. But there was never any doubt how much Don cherished and loved them.

Don Vinzant

     Recently, our conversation topics also would include Jeremie Beller, my preacher at Wilshire. Jeremie is a former student of Don's and another man Don loved. He would always tell me how impressed he was by how well-read Jeremie is for a man of his age, and how Jeremie seems genuinely interested in study and growth.

     I never really minded talking about the Rosses with Don, but talking Beller with him always made me nervous. When a leader of a larger, deeper-pocketed congregation than your own brags on your preacher like that, you're dumb not to be concerned. I always told Don it was fine to admire Jeremie. From afar.

     But it's not the Panera visits with Don that I will remember most about him. It's the times I would bump into Don in one of the hospitals. On two occasions, once when my dad was hospitalized and another when mom was a patient, I ran into Don in the hospital hall. He asked why I was there, and when he found out I was visiting a sick parent, took the time to invite himself into their room for encouragement and prayer. He came to see someone else, but always had time for the parents of Bobby's friend. I often wondered if Don was doing it for Bobby's sake, for my sake, or for the sick parent's sake. The answer, of course, is none of the above. Don did it for his master's sake, following the example the master set.

     I read about how precious the death of saints is to God. I read about mansions and robes and crowns. Up there. Where God has plenty of men and women like Alan and Don. It just doesn't seem like there are nearly enough of them down here, where we need them.

     When it's my turn, I'll see them again on the other side. Until then, they'll be missed. My community is poorer for losing them too soon.