40, it’s a good number, it is a Biblical number. In the Biblical tradition, 40 means a long, long time. Thus it rained for 40 days and 40 nights, the Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days. It’s not an exact time — but a long, long time. 2026 will mark the 40th Anniversary that Nancy and I have been married and we will celebrate with a cruise to Antarctica with our friends Doug and Kathy Johns. But today also marks another 40. And it has been a long, long time!
On November 11th, 1985 Stewart Wesley Conger, 23 years old at the time, crossed the summit and into the promised land after a long and gallant battle with esophageal cancer. I remember the day as if it were yesterday.
I was in my final semester at Duke Divinity School and serving as a student pastor at the Richfield and New Mt Tabor UMCs in rural western North Carolina. November 11th was a Monday. How do I remember that? On the 9th, I was hosting a youth lock in at the parsonage. And it was that late afternoon that I received a collect phone call from my father. (Anybody remember when it cost an arm and a leg to call long distance — let alone a long distance collect call). Who gets a collect call from their father?
Needless to say, it wasn’t a good call. I was told that if I wanted to see Stewart alive, I needed to head home. I had youth at my house, and a sermon to preach in the morning at my two churches. I called Nancy, we were dating at the time, and did my best to get through the evening. At church the next morning, I told the good folks of Richfield and New Mt Tabor that I was leaving and didn't know if I would be back.
Nancy’s mom Sue had driven her out to Richfield that morning for church. As soon as the second service was over, we climbed into my car and headed North. I had been up all night, and was emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted. Richfield to Downers Grove was a good 13+ hour drive. We made it to around Frankfort Kentucky and I was spent, I couldn’t go any further. We stopped to call home (no cell phones) and my dad said: stop and sleep because he is not going to make it much longer. We found a cheap hotel (didn’t have any money either) and crashed. At 3 am I was awakened and told Nancy we had to go, NOW! We got back in the car and drove the remaining 6ish hours arriving to find the family gathered around Stewart’s bed, he died shortly after we arrived.
40 years, so much has changed, at times it seems like forever ago, other times it feels like yesterday because the grief is so palatable. How different life would be if Stewart had lived, and yet, in many ways, my life changed because of Stewart. His death gave me a new perspective on life. I am certain that my life would have been very different without that transformation that he gave me. I have said this before, but as I get older I am more convinced of this — I never would have lasted in ministry as long without his death. His death changed the way I saw life, and the ways that I could share that life with others.
40 years, now my dad has joined Stewart in that cosmic joining with God. I have lived almost 2 of his lifetimes since he died — how can that be?
I am so thankful that I get to spend today with my mom. We often talk about Stewart, we both miss his laugh and smile. I wonder how his children would have fit into this wonderful Conger collective family. I think Stewart’s death helped us all to see the value in keeping the family close; and we love to gather together for meals, travel and simply life. Not just our girls and my mom, but Scott, Joette and their children and grandchildren. Life is truly good.
After Stewart died, I gathered my dad’s sermons together to help us all grieve. We needed some marker to help us through this time. He took what I wrote and expanded upon it and put together a beautiful book called Don’t Worry Dad, Everything is Okay. I sat down and reread it again. The book is actually available from Amazon (for a ridiculous price), but I have copies if anyone wants one just let me know. They do no good just sitting in a box in my house.
I still see Stewart’s smile (and his smirk) and I miss his laughter and his joy at life. I was never as free and easy with life as he was, but he taught me to loosen up and enjoy life a little. It is a lesson that is serving me well in retirement. He would have loved our class B RV, he would have borrowed it often I am sure. Thank you Stewart for still being with me, for teaching me about life, for showing me what love is and for being there to welcome dad. 40 years is a long time, and I will miss you until the day I join you.
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