We are mourning the loss of my father, Rev. Roy Webster, this month. He was a Tennessee boy but ministered from 1949-1996 in the Midwest.
My dad went home to be with his Lord and Savior last Sunday morning. He loved to go to church and last Sunday he walked into the presence of the Lord during the Sunday morning worship hour.
He told me when I was ten years old that he wanted to make it to 80 and he passed away at 81 3/4 years. God blessed him with a long life.
He was a young WWII Vet because he joined the U.S. Army at 14 years of age. He rode on a bus from TN on a unpaved dirt road (common in 1944) all the way to TX. The army thought he was 18. He envied his older brothers serving our country and he decided to join them.
While some in Hollywood boast of being married 61 days, my dad was married for 61 years mid-century (August 25, 1950) mid-America (to a Michigan girl), the love of his life Gladys Windquist, he met at Owosso Bible College in Owosso, Michigan.
They were married 61 years and here they are
at their 25th wedding anniversary party in Flint,
He never turned on a computer, but he had more friends than most of us will ever hope to have on Facebook. He never met a person that he did not like.
My dad really did love his mom (and dad), baseball (and football), and apple pie. Oh yes, and automobiles.
He loved wining the grandfather with the most grandchildren on Father’s Day for several years in a row.
And, then to know that he had 2 great-grandsons.
He spent the last decade of his life, calling and talking with members of his former churches that he was not sure of their salvation. He would present the Gospel and give them a chance once again to respond to the claims of Christ. And, he kept calling them until they trusted in Christ as their Lord and Savior.
Raised in the hills of TN, he was blessed to minister in east Michigan where many southerners had come up to work in the hey day of the car industry. When he retired in 1996 from the pastorate, he wanted nothing more than to go back to his people in Tennessee. And, that is from where last Sunday morning, he went to be with the Lord, among the twiggy dogwod trees, soft biscuits with sweet honey, good old southern gospel quartet singing, and his people. Now he is singing with his much loved family members and friends who went on before him.
By daughter Cheryl Webster Moeller