Why?

Dr. Ross,

This letter to you is written as a blog, online, going around the world. The letter is not the 1297 Magna Carta, but should be important to you. If I could hear Christ praying for me in the next room, I still would not fear writing it.

The happiest days of my life were spent as a student at Chapel Hill. In my 81^st year, looking back, I remember Dr. Frank Graham at his Methodist church telling me, “you are what the university was built for.” Since I was Baptist, I normally sat with Dr. J.T. Dobbins at the Baptist church, on the corner of Franklin St.

Since the Korean War, I have been a totally blind, 100% disabled, service-connected, medical officer veteran. As a veteran, I have encountered every insult your country can offer. One of the finest physicians I have ever known, Dr. Charles Beauchampf at Durham VA, wept as he told me of the treatment of young warriors returning from (then present) wars. Some day, God will explain many things to me, such as why this university here in Wilmington has become totally communist. One young man working for me, along with his wife, both students, left town after attending a performance at Thalian Hall where they recognized women professors, two lesbians, dressed as men, making out and causing a scene.

Although born in poverty on an eastern NC tobacco farm, I have the paperwork which traces my family to the first farm survey of Morristown, New Jersey, made in 1766 by the surveyor Adjoniah Peacock, who manufactured weapons for the Revolution. My folks were just dirt farmers, my father farmed, built houses and cut hair on the weekends so that his four children could attend college. I graduated from a country school with 13 students, right near the school that Governor Charles B. Aycock had attended with my two grandfathers. The county superintendent made sure I went to Chapel Hill.

I took advantage of everything the university had to offer. I heard Eleanor Roosevelt at Memorial Hall, say, “the individual is all that matters.” You can check with my lawyers, I am still leaving a chunk of my wealth to the university, but I will never forgive, nor forget, my attempt to get one of my cousins into the university.

I knew Erskine Bowles' father, Skipper. He wanted me to go to Chapel Hill and walk around with him and let him try to explain to me. My cousin, like me, was from a dirt-poor family, his grandparents had named him for Kay Keyser of Chapel Hill. His name, Kay Eldridge Pittman. I wrote to Chancellor House, Guy Phillips, W.C. George, Walter Spearman, all professors and men who I felt knew me. Still, Chancellor House would not admit my cousin who, like me, needed financial help. Anyway, he distinguished himself in the military and college, retired as an esteemed government worker, and is of great pride to his community.

I missed much, because at Chapel Hill and later in professional school in Memphis, I worked at night, but you should know that during those 8 years I sold Bibles door-to-door each summer, covering every pig path in eastern North Carolina. One day, a black grandmother, looking towards her black grandchildren, said to me, “son, what future do my grandchildren have?” At least, my cousin and I, with genes from early colonial families, could go to college.

In spite of things which you “normal” people will never understand, I have enjoyed the success of investing and being philanthropic in several places, particularly Mount Olive College and ministries supporting the God to which I am totally committed. You may have never heard this song, but you should, because in these days, we all need an answer. My passport has been stamped in 157 countries, and I realize that no one cares, but I have sought the answer. Ed Ames, asked “Who Will Answer?” (Song attached below)

At my age, still working every day, living alone, taking care of myself completely (I have one son, a Ph.D professor at Southwestern Seminary, two grandsons; a lawyer and an engineer, all university graduates and SBC missionaries to South Korea) Forsaken by my country, putting cement blocks behind my doors at night, I often contemplated suicide while in this cocoon of blackness for over 50 years, but God does not test a men when everything goes well, but only when things go bad. He has been too good to me to disappoint Him now. Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7)

I have every promise that He has given those who love Him. Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, He it is that doth go with thee; He will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. (Deuteronomy 31:6) I have the assurance of knowing that those who have forsaken me and others like me, even our lying, decadent government, will receive what is coming to them. Say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well with him: for they shall eat the fruit of their doings. Woe unto the wicked! it shall be ill with him: for the reward of his hands shall be given him. (Isaiah 3:10-11)

The largest minority are the disabled, larger than any other minority, and you will note that I have left funds for disabled students. The great preacher John Wesley, one of 19 children, after he had traveled the world, after he had done all he was capable of doing, just before his death, said ”the best is yet to come.”