Ricky Kurtz had been a friend in high school, a teammate on my high school football team. I’d seen him at his 40th year reunion (#66 above), and have kept in touch with his brother Tim (#30). Over eighty in attendance at the graveside service. Fittingly a recording was played of Willie Nelson singing Amazing Grace. Teammate Tom Whatley (#14) was there with his wife. Tom had been a lawyer in Savannah, but recently closed his practice and became a Methodist minister, pastoring two small country conregations near Savannah. Also there were family friends Tom Wilson and Devan Mueller. Devan had been on my first Little League team in Macon, and worked with Tim out at the base.
Whatley told the story from the first Northside game in 1975 The first half ended with a Northside goal line stand. We went into the tiny Porter Field locker room dejected. We looked around but couldn’t spot Ricky. We found him lying on the goal line dazed and confused, having been kicked in the head during the last play of the half. Ricky said he’d been in a fog the next week. The game would be our lone regular season loss, avenged 21-19 in the climatic playoff re-match the night before Thanksgiving – with my three PATs the difference in the game. Oh, and Georgia State Player of the Year QB Mike Jolly's dramatic conversion of a 4th & 20 and his ensuing game-winning QB sneak TD may have helped as well.
A sophomore that season, Ricky was the starting offensive tackle. I had inherited the kicking duties from graduating senior / high school All American David Taylor, who went on to kick the longest field goal in BYU history. In the 1975 preseason Ricky booted one practice kickoff one yard deep into the end zone, so he was awarded the kickoff duties in the opener against Griffin (and their star Willie Gault). But the grind in the trenches would wear Ricky down during games, and the quality of his kickoffs suffered. By game three I was handling all the kickoff duties. Ricky didn’t seem to mind.
Ricky was 64. He left three daughters, two sons, ten grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren. An Eagle Scout, 4-H volunteer leader, member of Twiggs County Leadership, and member of the President's Club at Fred's Inc.
I’m starting to lose count of how many teammates have passed away. CB Earl Wingfield. WR/CB Stan Putnal. G/LB Danny Kurtz. G Jeff Stewart. FB/LB Randy Rutherford. And now Ricky.
Above L-R: LS David Cape, OLB Roger Jackson, OT Ricky Kurtz, QB Tom Whatley, OC Roy McWilliams, P Johnny Crawford, WR Tim Kurtz, G Jeff Stewart at Danny's funeral.
The Baptist church in Jeffersonville provided a pot luck lunch complete with fried chicken. I sampled the potato salad and ice box pie before heading home. Got to chat with Tim’s wife Wendy and two sons, and Ricky’s wife and daughter.
On the way home I swung by Capricorn Records in downtown Macon to say hello to high school classmate Tim Griggs, who’d been a music lawyer and professor in LA and Nashville.
Friday afternoon I left work around 5:30. C had been at Shivonne’s all day, so we dined on leftover spaghetti. Watched a Netflix movie.
Saturday morning golf has been talking longer these days, with the sun not rising until after seven. Also playing with a guy who’s at my same skill level. Finished around 8:25. Then I drove down to attend a funeral south of Macon, in Jeffersonville. Northbound traffic wasn’t bad, and I got home in time to see MC and Shivonne before they left.
MC had been helping Ceil organize. Shivonne pretended to lick like Winnie. She also waved and wanted to high five. Later C went to the store so I took a nap.
Went to Pizzaria Lucca on the Roswell Square for supper, then home to watch the Braves.
Sunday school and worship. Stopped Ceil by Whole Foods for a baked chicken for lunch (above). Took a quick nap in the parking lot. Anna and Caleb went to East Lake for the final round of the Tour Championship. They following McElroy and Sheffler. We watched on TV. I also mowed the lawn. For supper I ate leftover lemon chicken. M brought home his cinnamon roll pizza, which I sampled.
Forgot to set my alarm this morning, so I was only able to run two miles at the gym. I tried to make them fast.
DENSION: pastors are under attack. Anglican minister Tish Harrison Warren noted in her New York Times newsletter yesterday, pastors that are facing burnout and discouragement at epidemic levels. She cites a Barna study showing that 42% of pastors have considered quitting full-time ministry within the past year. Stress, isolation, political division, coping with death and grief from the coronavirus pandemic, and the "relentless pace of issues" are all factors. Satan’s attack on Peter mirrors his hatred for all Christian leaders today (Luke 22:31).
ME: hey, it’s not just pastors facing burnout. Not just first responders. Not just young people facing fewer opportunities and skyrocketing living expenses. Not just teachers, dubbed America’s heroes for dealing with covid, armed gunmen, critics criticizing schools for their increasingly liberal agendas and falling test scores, and lobbying the federal government through their influential teacher’s union. Even those of us tortured souls slaving away for the allegedly profit hungry corporations who are destroying the planet by causing global warming and not paying enough taxes – life ain’t exactly a bowl of cherries for us either. Long hours, pressure to provide solutions to transportation bottlenecks and worker shortages, battling inflation at both work and home.
Burnout is an issue for just about everyone these days (except politicians, who thrive on the power so they never retire). What has changed? Why is life so much more stressful than before? Is it the faster pace of living with computers and instant communication and news feeds? Social media presenting unrealistic expectations? Media presenting biased / one sided viewpoint of the news? Skyrocketing taxes and inflation?
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