I’ve been called a lot of things in my lifetime, but the name that gives me the most joy is “Grandpapa.” My grandson Ashton, who turns 6 on Wednesday, gave me the name and his little sister Miya calls me that as well. I only knew one of my grandfathers. My dad’s father died when I was a year old, but my maternal grandfather was with us until I was 20.

Beckham Stanley was as country as they came. He was a preacher in southeastern Kentucky and was a man who called it as he saw it. Being a man of God, there’s a lot he wouldn’t like about our current president, but there were a lot of qualities that he would respect. Take their shared conviction that we are being deceived by fake news, for example; or more accurately, fake science.

One of the most embarrassing times in my mother’s life was the day in the spring of 1972 when she received a newspaper clipping in the mail from my grandmother. “County Minister Believes No One Has Been To Moon,” said he headline. “People Are Being Tricked,” read the “kicker” subhead up above. What apparently was a dark family secret was now out there in black and white for all the newspaper readers in Pulaski County, Kentucky, to see. I guess the one saving grace was that Al Gore hadn’t invented the internet yet.

I grew up in Brevard County, Florida, in the shadow of the Kennedy Space Center.  So of course I knew that man had walked on the moon. But apparently my grandfather had been telling the members of Grave Hill United Baptist Church in Tateville otherwise, and he said “between 90 and 95 percent of the adult members of his church agree with him.” That’s according to the story by Bill Mardis, the city slicker reporter from nearby Somerset who came to visit and brought news editor Don White with him as his witness. I’m not sure what they expected to encounter when they met my grandfather, but I believe they found something other than what they anticipated.

The story was actually quite respectful. “There was no trickery in our approach to the old preacher,” Mardis wrote. “We told him that we don’t agree with his philosophy that man has never made footprints on the moon. However, we revealed our respect for his right to believe as he does, conceding that there a a number of persons in Pulaski County who subscribe to the same theory.” My grandfather was unwavering in his conviction. “I just don’t believe they went there,” he said. “They can take these trick cameras and show anything they want to.”

He said his five children all disagreed with him on the subject. “We just don’t discuss it,” he said. “They know what I believe and I know what they believe, and I don’t try to change their mind.”

Despite my mother’s fears of what others might think “if this got out,” my grandfather was no crackpot and didn’t come across as such to the two jaded newsmen. They let him him have his say.

“I’ve got a deep conviction about the Lord and the Bible and a strong faith in God,” the preacher mused. “I don’t compromise.”

“I know that science has done miracles, but you can’t believe all that it teaches and still believe the Bible. I’m gonna take the ol’ Word of God,” he said in a tone of voice that showed strength of character.

“I can’t tell you what the moon or sky is made of,” he mused, “but it’s the handiwork of God.” He scoffs at reports of mountains, caves and possible volcanic eruptions on the moon.

“God will take care of man when he gets too far in His business,” Rev. Stanley predicts. “God created both Heaven and Earth.”

The old preacher believes that “messing” with the moon has already affected the earth. He thinks man ought to forget about the moon and take care of things here on earth.

“We’ve had practically no winter at all,” he commented, referring to the unusually mild season just past. 

Mentioning the billions and billions of dollars spent on the space program, Rev. Stanley expressed an opinion that it’s all a big waste. 

“And they talk about poverty,” he almost sneered.

Despite his reluctance to believe that man walked on the moon, I was impressed with his conviction 44 years ago that man’s activities was contributing to the earth’s changing climate, and that the government was spending billions and billions of dollars elsewhere that could be put to better use lifting people out of poverty.

He discussed other issues with the reporters while they waited for a brief rain shower to stop so he could return to his task of painting the church steps. He posed for a picture, and then it was time for the visitors to wrap things up.

Rev. Stanley is not ashamed of his convictions.

“If anybody wants to talk to me, tell them to come on down,” he remarked as we got into the car to leave. “I’ll get down the Ol’ Book and discuss it with anybody.”

He started using the paint brush again, measuring each stroke carefully. A painter by trade would have been proud of the job.

There seemed to be a smile on the preacher’s face … a look of contentment. His undying faith that “the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof” gives peace to his soul.