Heritage Column for April 6, 2006
By Fred Anderson
The Arizona sheriff looked him in the eye and told him that he would amount to nothing, that by age 16 he would be in jail. An abusive stepfather seemed to confirm the prediction. His grandmother had “one of the foulest mouths.” His mother, “a very gentle woman,” did the best she could under the circumstances; but Chuck Morris was headed for trouble.
Remembering back, Morris likened his first 16 years to being “trapped in a revolving door.” Without an act of divine intervention, the sheriff's prediction was coming true. Two Presbyterian missionaries held a Vacation Bible School and one of them offered a Bible to anyone who memorized 100 verses. “I had never seen a Bible,” admitted Morris. “I didn't know what it was, but I wanted it. I learned the verses. I still treasure that old Bible.”
Before the missionaries departed, one of them told the boy that he ought to study for the ministry. He suggested Chicago and the Moody Bible Institute. In 1939, at age 16, the critical age of the sheriff's prediction, Chuck Morris became the first in his family to complete high school. He was on his own. He cleaned toilets at the local YMCA to pay for a room and worked for a butcher.
He had not forgotten about that Bible school in Chicago. One day someone told him that he could get a ride to the state line. He showed up unexpectedly at a friend's house who told him: “The Lord must be in this. My parents are here from Chicago. They are leaving in the morning. You can ride with them.”
Charles Herbert Morris had escaped the revolving door. In Chicago he heard a Christian Jewish evangelist who preached on the need for people to be saved. Since he was now a Bible student, everyone just assumed he knew the Lord. He left the meeting and in his room he prayed, “Lord, if you will have me I will spend the rest of my life telling others about you.” From that day forward, Morris was destined for the gospel ministry.
At Moody, he met a young girl of German origins, Erica Hofmann. The two worked at Montgomery Ward to earn money. She worked in the long-term payments office and he worked in heavy equipment. Forever after, Chuck Morris would tell the story that Erika took a sudden interest in heavy equipment while he kept inquiring about long-term payments; and in time, they had both: lots of heavy equipment and always long-term payments!
They were wed in 1942; and at first, Morris was called to independent Baptist churches. Someone urged him to consider Southern Baptists. He once reflected: “The Lord knew what he was doing. He was preparing us for walking through future doors.”
Charles Morris had gone from living as if in a revolving door to walking straightway through open doors. In February he sent this columnist his autobiography appropriately entitled Through Open Doors. He asked my wife if I had read it. I remembered that it was sitting in the great pile of unread books. I stretched out on the sofa one evening, opened the paperback and began to read. I didn't fall asleep. I was introduced to the life of a rough-hewn cowboy who was led of the Lord to become a career missionary in Southeast Asia and a compassionate minister to anyone in need.
A few days later, my wife asked me if I had called Dr. Morris about his book. And in a day or two afterward, she told me the sad news of his sudden massive stroke. I never told him how much his life story had touched me. Already he had entered the last door in his pilgrimage. He died on March 27 at age 83.
The last few years had opened doors which revealed much about the man. In 2000 Erica had an automobile accident and, later, a fall and these had caused great physical injuries. In 2001 the onset of Alzheimer's disease became noticeable. Anyone who has known Chuck Morris since those days could testify that he was a devoted caregiver. Although the couple lived at the Baptist retirement community, Lakewood Manor, with all of its health care professionals, it was Chuck Morris who willingly assumed the role of chief caretaker. He even became the volunteer chaplain for the health care unit at Lakewood. Erica died in December 2004 and Chuck lavished his time on friends and writing.
At Huguenot Road Baptist Church in Richmond where, in his “retirement,” he served 16 years as minister of pastoral care, he started “Healing Hearts,” a ministry to those who had lost a spouse through death. He visited prospects, the sick and the dying. Pastor Bert Browning remarked, “He was never hesitant to be where pain was the worst.”
The Morris' sons, Charles and Eric, received encouragement and they accomplished. Chuck Jr. graduated from Baylor and earned a doctorate in international relations. He became a foreign service officer of the U.S. Department of State with service in Africa and Asia. He married Greta Nance, a remarkable woman whom his parents regarded as their own daughter. She is the U.S. ambassador to the Marshall Islands. Charles died in 1992 yet his parents never stopped their relationship with Greta.
Eric has a remarkable resume: Baylor, Yale and Cornell. He is identified with the United Nations in their refugee and relief work and currently heads U.N. tsunami relief efforts in Indonesia. There also are two promising grandsons, Matthew and Michael. The teenage boy who had been pronounced as worthless had accomplished incalculable good for humanity and left a legacy of loving and caring.
Fred Anderson may be contacted at P.O. Box 34, University of Richmond, VA 23173.