Making a Difference - Part 1: Mr. Fain

Have you ever known anyone who has always been old? That is the way Clarence Fain was for me. He always had white hair, a soft voice, a mind full of wisdom that comes from years on earth, and the respect of everyone who knew him.

Actually, it feels a bit blasphemous to even write the name Clarence in front of the name Fain. He was Mr. Fain to me, to my Dad, to everyone who knew him. Simply put, Mr. Fain, more so than any other human being, is responsible for the direction of my life. He had more direct and indirect impact upon me than any blog could do justice. But I will at least try to give you a taste.

Mr. Fain was the wisest man I have ever known. Case closed. I have rubbed shoulders with PhD’s of every stripe. I sat in my own doctoral study classes and wrote my own dissertation, but I have never in all my 50 years met anyone as wise as Mr. Fain. To really grasp this, you have to understand that Mr. Fain quit school in the 6th grade to help his family by getting a job in the mill in the town where he lived.

Mr. Fain was an elder in the local church. He taught an adult Bible class everyone wanted to attend. He could make the Bible come alive. All of this while speaking with a voice that never got above a whisper . . . literally. It is amazing to think about this even to this day.

I did not grow up in a Christian home . . . at least not until the age of 14. My home had Christian influences, but it was by no means Christian. My father was an alcoholic in every sense of the word in my early years. At times he could be abusive. Looking back, my Dad would have been in jail, had we lived in the year 2005 not the year 1965. I am not putting my Dad down. He and I had several heart to heart talks about these very issues when I became an adult. Most, if not all of these encounters, have only been shared with one or two people in my life. My Dad and I made peace and moved on, many, many years before his death in December 1999. However, it is no secret to those acquainted with my family, that he was a man controlled by an outside substance. Most who knew him had probably given up on him. Mr. Fain had not.

Although my Dad had known Mr. Fain long before I remember, I was 14 years old when I recall my first and biggest encounter with him.

In those days, my Mom worked the 3-11 shift at a hosiery mill in Kannapolis, NC. My Dad worked 7-3 as a painter. Consequently, my four brothers and I would be at home with my Dad in our two bedroom home. Or at least, that was the way it should have been. Dad would go off and leave us alone often. Now, I was old enough to be in charge, and my younger brothers were 12, 11, 9 and 8 so it is not like we were tiny children. But my Dad’s issues probably put us at risk on some level.

It was during those days that Mr. Fain made a telephone call that would prove to be the first step to changing my life, as well as the life of my Dad.

The church had just called a new pastor about six months earlier and Mr. Fain saw this as the opportunity to reach out – once again – to Robert Mann, my Dad. He called and made an appointment to stop by on a Thursday evening so my Dad could meet the new pastor.

When they arrived, my Dad was well under the influence of alcohol. My Dad never drank liquor. He drank beer . . . lots of beer. He drank it from quart bottles. He would later tell me, “Terry, I was not an alcoholic; I was a sorry old drunk.”

As best my memory serves me, my Dad passed out while Mr. Fain and the pastor, Dolph Robinson, were visiting. I came into the room. When I saw two men sitting on the sofa wearing suits, I assumed they were insurance salesmen, since insurance was sold that way in those days, and that had happened before. I was 14 at the time and said, “This is the man I am supposed to respect. Yeah, right,” and promptly walked from the room so the two men could excuse themselves.

The following Monday was the day that Mr. Fain’s character really shown through. He called my Dad on the phone and said, “Robert, the visit did not go well last week, so we would like to stop by again.” The next Thursday they came by and my Dad was totally sober. He was an alcoholic, but he was not stupid. My Dad was actually, quite intelligent even if uneducated.

The men visited and invited my Dad to bring my Mom and his five sons to church. He agreed. I later learned from him, that he was embarrassed about the previous incident and it was his way of being even. “I will come to your church, we will be even, and you will leave me alone,” was his thinking.

It was in this worship meeting that our home life changed. At the end of the worship the pastor invited anyone who felt they should, to come forward to receive Christ. My Dad went forward, and our home life would never . . . I repeat, never be the same. It began the path that led me to my education, my ministry, my entire life change. All because of Mr. Fain.

While my wife and I were dating, we would go to this man’s house to ask him Bible questions. “Will there really be blood to the horse’s bridle in the last day?” “Where did Cain get his wife?” The usual fare for two young folks, but he was ever patient with us.

Mr. Fain is one of the three folks I sought advice from when I was deciding to leave the banking field and move into training for ministry. Mr. Fain would always offer words of encouragement to me when I came home to visit. He always reminded me to be faithful in my service to the Lord.

This blog series is entitled, Making a Difference. In my life, when I talk about someone who made a difference, all I need to do is mention the name Clarence Fain.