One of the most enjoyable friendships of my life was with Nathaniel Luther Allen. We knew each other for 54 years before he passed on Nov. 15.
Our relationship began as lineman in the Spring football practice of 1969 when Gene Windham became new head coach at Murfreesboro Central.
In the Pit (The defensive and offensive line), Luther and other huge lineman were over 225 pounds. I tried to hold my own with these players who weighed 75 to 125 pounds more than me. My junior year, his senior year we sat beside each other on the Trailway Bus to away games. We were roommates on a two-night, road trip to Bristol for a AAA State Semifinal match up in 1970.
After Luther’s graduation, we lost touch for about 40 years. His football path took him through Tennessee State, Northeastern Oklahoma Junior College, Oklahoma State, Buffalo Bills training camp, and a brief run in the USFL. At the 40th reunion of the 1970 AAA State Champions, we reconnected. We talked on the phone almost every day in the seven years before his stroke right before Christmas 2020. Luther fought hard for the last two years, but complications from the stroke and diabetes took him out of the lineup.
God gave Luther the gift of a winning personality. Luther could find common ground with anybody and connect. He could find out what others were interested in and it was game on. You want to talk ball? He said, “I know ball; you don’t know ball.” You want to talk music? You want to talk geography? Politics and current events?” He used to say, “I’m an honorary professor of history!”
In his later years, Luther enjoyed working at Marinas, an Italian restaurant on the Boro Square. Baltimore Colts Hall of Fame receiver Raymond Berry’s family were owners of this business. Luther got to talk football with Berry. Luther took pride in washing dishes. He called it baptizing dishes. He would meet the other younger workers and servers. He delighted in faking them off as not being able to read. Luther would lull them in and before they knew it, he was talking about life’s deepest subjects and was giving them wise counsel about life.
God gave for Luther the Gift of Authenticity. Luther had the ability to open his life up. He was honest about his struggles. He liked to tell his grandsons about how life was when he grew up. Grandson Brian Burrell, who now has three state championships as center for the Oakland Patriots, once told him, “PawPaw you grew up during slavery. We aren’t slaves any more.”
Growing up in the 1960s, even with all the changes going on around us, I thought everyone’s life was like mine. My friendship with Luther taught me, I was wrong about that. He grew up on Reid’s Alley. His Aunt Bessie gave him and Terry Sneed their daily chores. One job was bringing in the lump coal twice daily for the fire. Before they got running water, they took baths in a #4 wash tub. Sneed was the Tennessean’s 1970 Most Valuable player as a nose guard for Central.
God gave Luther the gift of communication. Luther developed a first class vocabulary. He could tell the best Bible stories with a humorous spin. He called it, “Adding yeast to it.” He enjoyed embellishing for dramatic effect. The story of Esther, Mordecai, and racist Haman was a favorite. He called Haman, the official who tried to destroy the Jews, “Haman, the hater.”
Luther talked about death and dying as much as anybody I ever knew. One of the jobs on his resume was digging and filling graves at Roselawn Memorial Gardens between Smyrna and Murfreesboro. Sometimes, he would dig the grave and lay down in it. He said it helped him overcome his fear of death.
“Closed shop” was his phrase to describe when a person dies. He would call me on the phone if some famous sports or celebrity died. “Bill Russell ‘Slappie Nappie’s’ shop just closed!” He called life the breath retention contest. Luther used the term, Par to refer to the 70-80 years, he hoped to live according to Psalm 90. Luther finished one under par at 69. He would have turned 70 on April 18th, 2023.
Luther called a funeral, a “garden party.” Visitation was where people come to view the body he termed as “Peeping.” “Drop off” was what happens when the funeral director drops the body off at the cemetery to be buried. Upstairs was Heaven. Downstairs was Hell. Officiate or referee were the words and actions of the ministers at the funeral. Practice was what Luther called sleep. You practice every day getting ready for the eternal rest that comes at death. Luther would look at the wickedness and random violence going on in the world and would often lament, “It is going to be hell to tell the Captain!” A reference to giving an account of actions on the Day of Judgment.
One day, out of nowhere Luther started talking about the Paracletos. I asked him, “Have you been studying Greek?” “But now I go away to Him who sent Me, and none of you asks Me, ‘Where are You going?’ But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your heart. Nevertheless, I tell you the truth. It is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Helper (Paracletos) will not come to you; but if I depart, I will send Him to you.” (John 16:5-7).
From Luther’s studies, he knew that in the gospel of John, the Greek word Paracletos is sometimes translated “the comforter, the helper.” It is a beautiful word, one called alongside to help, comfort, and aide. Isn’t that what God and good friends do?
In the Spring of 1971, there was unrest at Central High, there was under representation of blacks in student body life at Central. The Black Student Union, headed by President Jerry Anderson and other students including Luther Allen, Sargent at Arms, led a walk out of classes and a sit in. There were some tense moments. Violence was rumored. Fear was rampant. I wasn’t afraid because Luther Nathaniel Allen was my friend, my Paracletos, my protector, my mediator.
The word Paracletos is also used in 1 Jn. 2:1, “If anyone sins we have an advocate, (Paracletos) with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous and his is the sacrifice of atonement, not for our sins only, but for the sins of the whole world.”
Luther regularly proclaimed, “I want Jesus to go to bat for me. I want Jesus to be my pinch hitter, my substitute. I want Jesus to be my defense attorney, my Paracletos. Buddha was a sinner and still in the grave. The Pope can’t bat for me. Mohammed can’t go to bat for me. I’m going all the way with JC, Jesus Christ! End of story!” He told me how he and Terry Sneed were immersed into Christ the very same day as teenagers.
A good friend is a human Paracletos to us: a helper, an encourager who comes alongside us to stimulate us to greater growth and understanding. Luther did these things for me, and I tried to do the same for him. I miss our heated discussions on a wide range of subjects and all the laughter. If you are reading this, “the shop” is still open for you to renew friendships, make new friends, or draw near to the friends we may have drifted away from. The time to act is now!
Joe Dill Rushing is a minister with Main Street Church of Christ, a chaplain, and a writer.
