The Three Amigo's--A Kind Of Short Story (In Memory Of Hoyt Lee Knox Jr-1969-2009)

Hoyt Knox, what a character. He would have had an absolute fit If he knew I would write a story about him one day and place it Facebook. The man completely forbade me to even take one simple picture of him because he claimed I would put it on my Facebook page. “Yeah, of course I will”. I simply and honestly told him.

I only have one picture of Hoyt Knox. I actually had to borrow it from a very large collage hanging on the wall of one of our favorite hangouts called Jenkins Deli in Cleveland, Tennessee. Jenkins Deli is located in a small strip mall at the corner of Keith street and Mouse Creek Rd. I guess it first opened around 1976 and the atmosphere kind of reminded me of a smaller version of Applebee's or Ruby Tuesday's. A lot of university kids worked and hung out here at the time and the environment was certainly “family friendly”.

Ironically, as shy as Hoyt was about being photographed, he was the one who pointed out this picture of himself to me on that large collage hanging on the wall in the deli lobby. It's a picture of Hoyt at Jenkins Deli around 1995 sitting with some pretty young lady he knew. He and I didn't know each other then but it was the only picture of Hoyt that I knew I could personally obtain a copy of after his death.

I had to physically go to Jenkins Deli to obtain the picture which I did not long ago. I literally removed the collage hanging from the wall and used my camera to take a copy of the picture itself. Normally I would have never dared to do something so conspicuous. However, it was for a friend.

Hoyt was from Etowah in Mcminn County, Tennessee. And he was definitely not one to dismiss as being average or even dull. The man certainly possessed a considerable degree of intelligence which was only matched by his brawny stature. One could be intimidated by just looking at him.

He, of course, standing around 6'2 and about 250lbs, was also an avid weight lifting enthusiast. The guy was just hard to miss in almost any social circumstance. Hoyt even told me that he was chosen by scouts from the UTK football team but turned down their offer because of his father's untimely passing.

Sometimes Hoyt could be seen around town driving in his blue BMW convertible sporting the latest fad in expensive name brand sunglasses. A few years later, not only would there be expensive sunglasses but the latest version of blue tooth could be seen sticking out of his ear. In my view, this new acquisition of technology simply made Hoyt appear more sophisticated; kind of like a preppy Secret Service agent.

However, it was far more difficult to communicate with him by cell phone because he never seemed to invest in a bluetooth/headset that worked well. He was always taking them back, replacing them because he broke them, or loosing them.

Usually when Hoyt left me a voice mail I automatically knew it was from him without having to check my caller identification. The voice mail would usually go like this: “New message, Saturday, July 6, at 9:25 pm. PPPFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTFFFFTTTTTT!!!!!” I would hear nothing but horrible static with what sounded like Hoyt's voice underneath telling me to call him.

Sometimes though, Hoyt was just downright difficult to get in touch with. He always seemed to be on the move and prone to flights of fancy. He would usually call and leave a message on my voicemail, “Hey man, it's me. Give me a call. Bye.”Then when I would return the call (many times within minutes of missing it) I would get his voicemail, leave a message, and not hear back from Hoyt for days. Sometimes weeks went by before I heard anything.

On one occasion Hoyt informed me that he and some other guys took a trip to Nigeria. “Well, that explains why I couldn't get in touch with you”. I said. Hoyt then went on to tell me that he had to constantly be on the move because there were roving bands of heavily armed bandits looking for Americans to capture and hold for ransom. It sounded a bit far fetched but within a week I saw a story on Fox News about how The State Department was warning Americans about traveling to Nigeria for that very same reason.

Of course, I never would have met Hoyt at all if it weren't for a mutual friend of ours by the name of David Hamrick from the Seattle, Washington area. Dave was another character indeed. I met Dave at a part time job around June of 2000. Dave knew Hoyt from their time at Lee University together. Hoyt was studying emergency medicine and he would eventually become an EMT and strive to be a physicians assistant. Dave, on the other hand, went to Lee University after being discharged from the Air Force.

Dave had spent time being deployed overseas. He had lived in the United Kingdom, Turkey, and Germany and he had been all over Europe and parts of the Middle East and Asia. Dave was also fluent in German and Spanish. During his time in the Air Force Dave was a devout Roman Catholic. However, that changed when he met some people from the Church of God in Germany. Soon he converted to Pentecostalism.

Dave was not at all the physically imposing figure that Hoyt was. In fact, just the opposite. Dave was probably around five feet five. However he completely made up for his size with the overwhelming amount of academic and theological knowledge that poured out of the many impromptu sermonettes or political speeches he happened to launch into at will...or by suggestion. It always amazed me how much knowledge was stored up in that small cranium of his.

I started attending church with Dave at Hopewell Church of God not long after I met him and, as became our custom, we would go out with the church folks to some well known eateries like the esteemed Gondolier Pizza or even Monterrey's Mexican Restaurant. (Both located off of Keith Street near Cleveland High School) Usually a bunch of students from Lee would accompany us and a large theology lesson would break out somewhere between the main course and dessert. Dave was ever the head of the impromptu class like a professor giving a lecture.

Sometimes these theology and philosophy lessons would continue at Dave's apartment (even my apartment sometimes) and last until the wee hours of the morning. I remember one time in particular we discussed the doctrine of sanctification being a second work of grace as taught by the Wesleyans. I soon looked at the clock and it was nearly five in the morning but there Dave stood, dictionary of theology open and in hand, delivering his lesson like he was standing before a class of a hundred students. I could barely keep my eyes open and I nearly thought I was dreaming.

Dave also had a lot of literature one would only find in a Christian bookstore. In fact his whole duplex resembled a stock room of all kinds of VHS video tapes, bible tracts, books on eschatology and comparative religions; whatever best selling books were sold at the time concerning such matters. Dave had stacks of Chic Publications tracks on his coffee table and many of the videos were by Perry Stone and Hal Lindsey. Many of our conversations also orbited around dispensationalism and matters of the “End Times”.

Other conversations we had would touch on the intricacies and history of the Roman Catholic faith which Dave shared from the point of view of being a former Roman Catholic. The occult and all kinds of religious cults would also come up occasionally. But most of the time we watched a lot of television together. Dave refused to buy cable. He said he couldn't afford it. I personally refused to go without it.

So, consequently, we would usually find ourselves at my place watching a fairly new cable news channel called Fox News while we chomped down to some Pizza Hut pizza and wings with extra extra blue cheese dressing. He and I would both watch Bill O'Reiley and Hannity and Colmes. We spent many many hours watching those shows and would be almost amused at the way some of the guests were shredded by O'reiley and how Hannity and Colmes could sharply disagree on almost everything but still be friends.

Then, every week, we would watch a show by Hal Lindsey on the Trinity Broadcasting Network. Oh, and let's not forget the show Jack Van Impe Presents took up some of our time too. Those were some good times. Dave was such a smart guy. Not a day went by without me learning something new from him. It was a true learning time for me in a lot of ways and Dave was certainly a mentor during that short time.

Of course I could not possibly agree with everything I heard Dave teach. Dave and I usually had our sharpest disagreements on what many theologians call the “pentecostal distinctives”. I used to ask Dave questions about such matters that would eventually have him spinning on his eyebrows. Sometimes Dave would get so exasperated that the bald spot on his head would begin to glow a reddish tint. It was downright amusing.

I will never forget the night Dave and I went to his apartment and Dave's room mate Carlos was there. “Dave, who in the world were you talking to on the phone the other night?” Carlos asked. “I have never heard you so fired up. I mean you were just 'raarrr raaarr raaarrr', just yelling and hollering like a fool.”

Of course, Dave was having a phone conversation with me about one of the things we disagreed on. I soon quit having these discussions with Dave however. It became apparent to me that Dave, indeed, was a true believer. I had to hand it to him; I had never met anyone in my life who defended what they believed with such tenacity and knowledge. I joked to Dave that he and I needed to start our own radio show kind of like Hannity and Colmes. But instead of politics we would talk about evangelicalism, cults, religion, and so on. We could even have guests on the show.

Hoyt Knox was also hanging out with Dave at this time although our paths didn't cross too much initially. Then one night, after a long afternoon and night at work, I met Dave at the local Steak and Shake for a post midnight full course meal. And, when I walked in I noticed Dave wasn't alone. There I was introduced to Hoyt for the first time.

I must admit that my first encounter with Mr. Knox was not at all what I had expected. By his initial appearance, I almost expected him to be a frat boy/ jock/sports fanatic who could be boorish at times. This was not the case. Hoyt was actually very soft spoken. He seemed very polite and his kind demeanor was very disarming. It seemed that he and Dave had quite a repertoire and, as in most group conversations, I just sat and listened as usual.

Hoyt talked about his decision to get into body building. He said he had always had a weight problem, especially as a kid, and that engaging in weight training was a a way to control that. He began to elaborate further as to the science of those concepts when I asked for more details. He seemed to know a whole lot about nutrition and how to eat properly to control Type 2 diabetes. In fact, when I think back on it, much of the knowledge I gained about weight training (concerning supplements, multivitamins, formula, etc) was from Hoyt..

Over the next few weeks I found myself meeting many times like this with Dave and Hoyt and it was usually after work. Sometimes we would choose Steak and Shake and others Dennys. However it was always after 2 a.m. Of course the friendship and camaraderie soon subsided because I decided it was time to leave Tennessee for far greener pastures in Atlanta.

I really hated to leave Dave and Hoyt behind. I was just getting to know Hoyt and I would certainly miss the times Dave and I spent with our theological and philosophical discussions. Ironically however, it wasn't until I left Tennessee that Hoyt Knox and I became really good friends.

You see, I was faced with the initial effect of culture shock when I arrived back in the Atlanta area. It seemed that much of the world had come here to live. I suppose it was because of the 1996 Olympics. I just know that when I left town, in my mind, I was leaving a redneck town that just couldn't seem to catch up to the rest of the world. However, when I got back I noticed that many things had changed and it seemed the world was right on our doorstep.

However, I always kept in touch with Dave and Hoyt by phone. As usual, I took a night job (2^nd shift) so when I got home I was usually wide awake for several hours. It was here that I called Hoyt for the first time and we pretty much picked up right where we left off. There was almost nothing we talked about that he couldn't comprehend and many times add to the discussion.

After a few initial phone calls I told him that I wouldn't mind driving up just to hang out and maybe get with Dave and some old friends. Later on, however, I would visit because I had family members eventually move to the area. Hoyt and I never did anything earth shattering. The first time we hung out we met at Jenkins Deli in Cleveland. Sometimes we would hang out in Chattanooga near the Hamilton Place Mall and theater. In a nutshell, we pretty much hung out at some of Hamilton and Bradley County's finest dining establishments.

The vast majority of the time Hoyt would buy my dinner. The reason was because I usually drove to Cleveland to pick him up because he was having car trouble. (I was more than happy to do this since I knew he would buy me a good meal). Then, we would drive back down to Hamilton Place.

Sometimes we would continue with the tradition of meeting at Jenkins Deli or even dine at Steak and Shake near Hamilton Place or even Bradley Square. Other times, when we really wanted to live larger than life, we would dine at the prestigious Logan's Roadhouse, Smokey Bones, O' Charley's, The Outback Steakhouse, or even IHOP if it was very late. Many times we tried to get in touch with Dave to come out with us but sometimes we just couldn't. But when we did, we had lots of fun.

Sometimes though, when the conversations were rather dull (or I was rather dull) Hoyt would easily pull the servers (usually pretty waitresses) into small talk at first. Then as things progressed, “Oh you go to Lee? I went there back in such and such! Did you know professor__________? Oh yeah he was awesome!” I would just sit there and wish I had that level of the gift of gab. Hoyt almost never seemed to meet a stranger...even when he met strangers.

Each time we sat down to break bread, such as the fresh hot rolls at Logan's Roadhouse, Hoyt became more outspoken about the menu items I was choosing. “You know Dave, you need to really cut back on all that white processed food and choose something more like whole wheat bread and a sweet potato. Brown wheat pasta is good too. But you might as well be eating a huge bowl of cherry licorice with all that white pasta you just ate. It's just going to get into your blood and turn into pure sugar.”

Sometimes, when I would order dessert Hoyt would just shake his head. It just seemed as if Hoyt had a natural inclination to want to care for people and look out for their best interests. Hoyt could indeed be a bit overbearing at times with his concern. Other times, however, it would come in very handy.

Case in point: Several years ago, when I still lived in Duluth, Georgia, I decided to go on a crash diet of just fruits and vegetables. The idea was sound and my intentions were for the best. It wasn't long however, before I started to feel in ways that I had never felt in my life. I slept a lot, I had chest pains, my hands and feet tingled in a strange way, and when Hoyt called to check on me that following Friday he said I sounded completely drunk.

We weren't into the conversation five minutes before he strongly encouraged me to go to a doctor ASAP. The following morning I went to Gwinnett Family clinic and was promptly diagnosed with diabetic ketoacidosis. I could have wound up in the hospital had I not taken Hoyt's advice. I'm glad I did because I was a type 2 diabetic and I didn't even know it.

It was because of this that I took Hoyt a lot more seriously when we talked about good nutrition at our dinner meetings. Most of the time, during these elaborate dinner meetings however, Hoyt and I would converse about anything from women, current events, politics, and Christian theology. It was interesting to hear a lot of his stories he told about attending Lee in the 1990's.

He had met so many people and consequently had many experiences both good and bad. Much of these experiences had to do with church folks. Some, from what he said, seemed to be quite painful for him. I most certainly could relate. After all, people are the same everywhere, it seems to me anyhow, and my parents were in the ministry in Hoyt's denomination for many, many years..

Many times the result of these discussions would lead into theological questions and comments that he would have. I did the best I could to listen, which was most of the time, and then answer his questions from a biblical point of view the best way I could. Of course, agreement could not be reached on everything. Some of our more spirited debates were over matters of pentecostal doctrine. We just had some disagreements on matters of speaking in tongues and whether divine healing was part of the atonement or not.

Sometimes David Hamrick would be present and add to the debate. I have no idea what our servers thought or what even the other guests who were trying to enjoy their meal thought. I mean we had some serious, albeit friendly, knock down drag outs. Some of these discussions were so intense that, had I not kept a constant relaxed and monotone predisposition throughout the discussion we probably would have wound up shouting at each other. Our friendship might have been strained because of the whole thing. Of course, we just had to agree to disagree. We could do that and still get along and respect each other. It was just the kind of friendship Hoyt and I had together..

Eventually Hoyt and I considered the possibility of being room mates and we had even traveled around town looking at houses and duplexes as future prospects. Things seemed to be somewhat promising as far as this was concerned. It would have been a great set up. I'd live close to family in a town that truly felt like home. For me, what could be better?

However, things would always fall through on my end. Either I couldn't get employment that paid enough to live comfortably or, as in the most disappointing case, someone else was picked instead of me when I applied for a good job with a competitor. Hoyt expressed disappointment too. Of course, I guess the Lord knew better...as I would find out soon enough.

One thing that was hard not to notice was the fact that Hoyt seemed to have a lot of health problems. Usually just minor problems. However, many of these difficulties seemed to be compounded on top of other ailments. “Gee whiz man go to the doctor”. I often told him. However Hoyt was trained in medicine, and continued to take medical classes so, using all his accumulated knowledge, he would try to take care of himself. I didn't know if this was to save money or what.

I have heard it said somewhere that the worst patients are usually doctors and while Hoyt was no doctor, from what he told me, he was well on his way to being a physician's assistant. So, needless to say, I became very accustomed to calling Hoyt and hearing about how sick he had felt lately...and always with a detailed medical explanation as a bonus. Many times his explanations were so detailed and sounded so textbook that I began to refer to Hoyt as “Dr. Knox”.

Well, it seemed that these bouts of illness became so frequent that they began to interfere with our ability to get in touch when I was usually in town. Our phone conversations continued however and usually on weekends. Usually they would be after midnight when we would watch, over the phone of course, Red Eye on Fox News and Sean Hannity reruns. I always knew we were watching the same shows because I could hear his television and it had an ever so slight delay. Other times, however, and as I have mentioned previously, I wouldn't hear from him.

One Friday night, however, I found myself browsing about in the Wal-Mart Supercenter near my home because I was completely bored out of my mind. I suddenly received a phone call on my cell and noticed it was Hoyt on the caller I. D. I hadn't heard from him in a few weeks so I quickly answered my phone.

After exchanging a few trivial pleasantries, Hoyt informed me that he needed my help and asked if I wanted to accompany him to a gun show in Knoxville, Tennessee the following morning. Hoyt said it was to help him raise money for a certain operation he was going to have to have. It was around 8:30pm and on a VERY short notice. But I quickly said:

“Gun show? Sure, what the heck? I'll meet you at the Cracker Barrel in Athens, Tennessee tomorrow morning.”

Athens was a good three hours or so north but I still arrived early. Basically, Hoyt was late for our morning appointment in Athens. In fact, two hours late at least. It seemed he had difficulty loading all his stuff into a car when he suddenly noticed four flat tires on his vehicle. So, he had to unload and reload all his things into another vehicle. Or, something like that.

Anyway that put us way behind schedule and needless to say things weren't going as planned. By the time we got to the gun show we were quite late. The convention center was full and all the dealers had their merchandise on display. I mean, anything from small caliber hand guns to high powered rifles, shot guns, and assault weapons, were out in the open for all and God to see.

Hoyt and I were swarmed by potential customers as soon as we began to pull our overloaded cart though the center to our assigned sales area. I am not joking when I say overloaded. We had many pounds of ammunition on this cart as well as quite a few guns. In fact, Hoyt had so much stuff to sell that it took a while to get set up. Not only did he have guns and ammo but all kinds of hunting gear and equipment as well. There were certainly plenty of buyers.

And you know, I had no idea who these potential buyers were. They could have been KKK, under cover ATF agents, professional hunters, or all of the above for all I knew. But one thing is for certain, Hoyt was a bit out of his element. However, I had plenty of experience dealing with the public and I stepped up and said, “Gentlemen, please pardon the delay. We will be set up shortly and open for business”.

Well, it was business alright. I had never seen such wheeling and dealing in all my life. By the time the day was over Hoyt had made enough money to buy me a top notch drum kit, drum mics, and with top of the line cymbals and cases to boot. All of it was...in cash. Hoyt still had a few guns left over though. I just can't tell you how strange I felt when we began to drive down the road. I was driving a car with a bunch of hand guns, left over ammo, and a man with thousands in cash in my passengers seat.

I tell ya, I can't imagine what kind of explaining we would have had to do had we been pulled over by the local sheriff. They probably would have thought we were white supremacists or something. Fortunately we had made an acquaintance at the gun show and he led us to a nice part of town where Hoyt checked us into a really nice hotel. Afterward, we went out and had a great meal at the local Outback Steakhouse. And, as usual, had a very good conversation with our waitress whom I have not seen again since.

Despite the fact that the whole experience was totally exhausting; I really didn't mind. I was helping a friend and, my food, gas expenses, and lodging were all paid for per Hoyt so I really couldn't complain. That following Sunday (early the following Sunday morning) I had to drive from the Knoxville area back to Atlanta to play in a worship service I had committed myself too. It was an interesting, yet, exhausting weekend for sure......but it wasn't the end.

Hoyt had mentioned to me, before my return to Atlanta , that he would need my help once again the following weekend. I assured him that, as before, I would be as willing to help as I was in Knoxville. After all, this trip involved going to one of my favorite places of all; Nashville, Tennessee.

And, sticking true to character, Hoyt promised to compensate me for my expenses. He figured we would be finished around Saturday night. This would give me ample time to return to work the following Monday.

The basic mission on this Nashville trip was to exchange a lot of items Hoyt had purchased from a Bass Pro Shop store there at the Opryland Mall. Also, we would be arriving at my favorite time of the year to be in Nashville; Christmas time. I just personally found it to be a great time to visit that city. Unbeknownst to me, however, was that the Opryland Mall, especially during this time of the year, was an absolute cluster; a total jigsaw of tourists, traffic, and frantic shoppers all trying to finish up their Christmas shopping. The secondary mission of this trip was to run a bunch of side errands as well.

Seemed simple enough. And, as usual, I met Hoyt sometime that day and we headed up 1-24 west to the Music City. I was looking forward to this. I even called a singer/songwriter friend of mine, Mark Kelly Hall, and told him I would be in town with a friend and we would try to get with him. My motive was to see if we could crash at Mark's place for the night which I, of course, didn't reveal to Mark until later on.

Everything during the trip seemed to go without a hitch. Of course, we took a little longer to reach the city limits than I thought. There was a lot of traffic just south of Franklin and this held us up a bit. However, when we entered into the vicinity of the Opryland Mall area it became apparent to me that we had serious logistical problems with our plan. In fact, it appeared that we simply sat in a long line of traffic just trying to find a parking place.

I soon called my friend Mark and dropped the “can we crash at your place tonight” line. I could immediately hear the apprehension and hesitation in his voice so I immediately assumed the answer was going to be a resounding...”no”. Mark eventually confessed to me that he would have gladly let me stay there because he had done so several times before on some of my other many trips to Nashville. However, He just didn't know Hoyt.

I understood. Besides, later on Mark told me that I sounded somewhat annoyed over the phone and he could tell I was very frustrated with the way things were going. This was a true. I had one thing on my mind, other than helping a friend, and that was to get back in time for work Monday. The way we were going however was making it look improbable already.

By the time we found a parking place it was pretty late and Hoyt decided not to do what he had to get done until the following morning. We did, however, have plenty of time to get a really good meal. Though, not before Hoyt made a detour into a watch and jewelry shop, there at the mall, and began bargaining with two Pakistani's over a few watches he wanted to get rid of. That took a while as well.

In fact, while Hoyt was bargaining, I decided to take a stroll and look around myself. The Gibson Cafe was one place I did visit along with a bunch of other shops and clothing stores. Hoyt soon called me on my cell phone when he was through. I have no idea if he ever sold those watches or not.

Eventually we settled for a nice seafood dinner at a place called The Aquarium Restaurant. This entire place seemed to be bathed in an aqua blue almost fluorescent light of sorts and one whole wall was the side of a glass tank full of water which contained exotic sea life of various kinds. One could have a nice meal while imagining they were at the Chattanooga Aquarium or something.

Hoyt and I chowed down on calamari with a light butter sauce and later had our main course. Hoyt even had the cook come out from the back and instructed him to fix a gluten free meal because of his allergen towards wheat products. That poor cook looked exhausted. But, he took the directions and followed them to the letter.

Not long after our meal we crashed at some semi old and run down hotel within site of the Nashville skyline. It didn't take me long before I was out cold. I just remember Hoyt saying that he wanted to get up around seven and when I looked at the clock it was already three am.

The next morning started off with a real good breakfast at Jimmy Dean's next to the Opryland Mall. I had a big bowl of oatmeal and raisins with sausage. Hoyt and I sat and talked for at least an hour (which we always did) We finally left a tip for the server and paid our tab. However, that was the last thing that occurred that day which, to me, made any real sense at all.

Most of the next seven to nine hours were spent on me waiting. Usually I would sit in my car while Hoyt went into a store somewhere. I would turn the radio on low, lay back, and snooze. Suddenly, or so it seemed, I would be awakened by Hoyt getting back into the car.

Then, it was off to some other exotic location across town like Best Buy or TJ Max. I mean we drove all over Nashville and even up to parts of Hendersonville. Usually the same scenario would occur; Hoyt would get out, I would wait, fall asleep, he would wake me up getting back in the car, and off we were to another stop.

Despite the fact I was doing these things for a good cause and to help a dear friend; I still couldn't help but slowly become more and more annoyed. For the life of me I couldn't figure out what it was we were doing other than exchanging items at various stores for cash or for other things. To me, it began to seem more and more like a scavenger hunt gone horribly wrong.

My patience began to wear more and more thin. In my mind, the deadline was looming closer and closer and the window of opportunity of successfully achieving my personal goal, arriving at work on time Monday morning, was becoming more and more uncertain with each passing hour.

I kept reassuring myself however of several things; free food, free gas and quality time with a good friend I didn't see much. However, I couldn't help but notice the tone in my voice went from talking to a friend to like a parent talking to their teenage son. “Hoyt, come on! Get in the car...I know, I know, were going to. Just get in!”

Then it began to rain and by the time we arrived at the Opryland Mall for the second time; the sky opened up. I just sat there in the lobby of the Bass Pro Shop by a huge fireplace casually talking with strangers. I watched people walk in and out of the rain for a very long time. Hoyt was still standing up there at the customer service counter and I had no clue as to why. I had begun to resolve myself to the fact that I may not make it to work on Monday. I would have to call in but there still might be a chance...maybe.

However, Hoyt finally finished up whatever business it was he was conducting..finally! I can't tell you how relieved I felt as we got into my car and headed to I-24 east to Chattanooga. I never thought I would say it but I was honestly happy to leave Nashville, Tennessee. I absolutely couldn't wait to get back to Atlanta.

I guess, I had almost lost my ability to hide my frustration by the time we hit Monteagle on I-24 east. After all, it was at night, raining heavily, I couldn't see the road ten feet in front of me hardly. I know Hoyt could sense my increasing agitation. It seemed the more he sensed it the more he continued to talk and laugh. I guess that was his way of trying to keep the peace and smooth everything over.

I had very little sleep that weekend, I hadn't eaten much, I was absolutely exhausted and by the time I reached Hoyt's grandmother's house it was around 2:30a.m....on Monday morning. Were were finally in Etowah, Tennessee and I had about 150 miles to drive before I got home. It would take around three hours to getr back home and I had to get up for work in three and a half. There would be no way I would be able to work because I drove about 300 miles a day with my job anyhow and...after all this?? No way! I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel...and that's with coffee.

I sat there in the drivers seat of my car with the overhead dome light blaring in my face. Hoyt had the hatch back open and he was removing all his things. It was so quiet out there in rural Mcminn County, Tennessee that the silence could almost be felt pressing in on your eardrums. I couldn't really talk much. I was totally spent.

Hoyt briefly sat back down in the passenger seat and thanked me sincerely for the help. He said he was sorry it took so long and then, without saying a word, he handed me $200 cash. “This is for missing work today”. Suddenly a lot of the frustration and anxiety I had about work just evaporated. I just breathed a sigh of relief and thanked him. Hoyt didn't have to do that but he did. “I love you man” Hoyt said. “I love you too buddy” I replied. “Now I have to get home. I just hope I don't fall asleep at the wheel on the way back”. Hoyt crawled out of the car and closed the door as I cranked the engine.

As I pulled out of the driveway and backed onto that dark country black top I saw Hoyt standing on his grandmother's porch. I waved goodbye as I slowly drove away and Hoyt did the same. I breathed a huge sigh of relief once again and resolved myself not to do anymore trips with Hoyt for quite a while. He was my friend, I did everything I could to help him and now I needed a little break. But you know, what I didn't realize, was that seeing Hoyt on the porch waving goodbye was the last time I would ever see him alive.

I made it home by 7:30 a.m. That morning. I was so tired I couldn't help but stop a few times on the way back and take a cat nap. I should have just gotten a room but I finally crashed in my bed...after I called in sick. I might has well have been.

I didn't hear from Hoyt for a very long time after that. The last time I spoke to him on the phone he was at a huge civic center downtown for a paramedics convention. He really wanted me to come down to see him but I had worked all day and it was at one of the worst times of Atlanta rush hour. He seemed disappointed but I couldn't help that.

We may have communicated a couple of more times but he pretty much went radio silent after that. During this time I lost a dear friend and former room mate in an auto accident. I was also playing and recording in sessions on the north side of the city. When we were done with one of the last sessions one night and suddenly I noticed Hoyt had called. He said in his voice mail that he wanted me to call him back that night. I seriously considered it but I was beat and it literally slipped my mind somewhere on the way back home. And, that was it.

This was not unusual. But he always managed to call back within a few hours, days, or even weeks. However, I didn't think much about it when he didn't call me back or when he didn't answer his phone when I called him. I just didn't think much of it. I wish I had.

Months went by and on one particular night I received a call very late which was, to say the least, unusual. I thought it might be Hoyt fially getting back in touch like he always did. However, I saw the name of David Hamrick on my caller ID. I quickly turned down the television and answered the phone.

Sure enough, there was the friendly voice of Dave Hamrick. Our conversation began talking about where he was now living, a brief summary of what I had been doing lately ...then...as is my custom...I began asking about all our friends and acquaintances one by one. “How is so and so? Have you heard from such and such,,blah blah.”

Down the list we went. Then, as always, I asked almost enthusiastically, “Dave, have you heard from Hoyt Knox lately? He hasn't called me in a while”.

Almost without hesitation, and sounding a bit alarmed, Dave replied, “Dave, Hoyt passed away four months ago. You didn't know?”

“Well, no. I guess that explains why he hasn't called me.” I quipped. I would have had to sit down had I not already been in the bed.

“Yeah”. Dave continued. “I didn't find out about it until a few days after the funeral when I saw some of my friends talking about it on Facebook. I also got a call from another friend saying Hoyt had “passed” just a few days before Thanksgiving. I thought he meant Hoyt had passed a medical exam or something.

Then I remembered I got a call a few days earlier from Hoyt's brother, which sounded so much like Hoyt, telling me about what had happened and about the viewing and service etc. But you know, Hoyt was always making prank phone calls so I thought it was probably him.”

I was stunned to say the least. I just remember the sad feeling that came over me. Dave went on to say that Hoyt had died at home which is where he was almost every time I called; or where he was when he had called me to talk. I also realized that I was in Chattanooga visiting family for Thanksgiving the weekend just days after his death. We had our Thanksgiving dinner and then headed to St. Louis for more family time. Had I known about Hoyt's death I could have gone to the funeral. I could have been there. No one told me.

“Hoyt, I'm so sorry man. I just didn't know”. I almost whispered out loud. “I just didn't know”.

I went straight to my computer and googled Hoyt's full name. Sure enough, I found a link basically telling me that Hoyt passed away on a Thursday night, at home, and upon further research, I found I found a website that gave information stating that Hoyt's body had been committed to Good Springs cemetery just outside his hometown of Etowah. (Mcminn County, Tennessee) . There was even a picture of a pile of dirt with a tiny marker that said “Hoyt Lee Knox Jr. 1969-2009) There wasn't even a headstone but those things are awfully expensive I guess. Maybe there just wasn't enough money.

I crawled back into bed a drifted off to sleep. Hoyt must have been heavy on my mind as I slept. When I woke up the next morning for work all I could think about was all the good times Hoyt and I had together and how hard it was to fathom that he was certainly gone. I just wish I had been at the funeral.

You know, for a man who was such a social butterfly and who could extemporaneously communicate with folks he pretty much died alone. Hoyt was all by himself when he died on a Thursday evening. Who knows what I was doing? I could have been recording a session, at the gym, or taking a nap. I just don't know.

However, there is one thing that I am almost certain of; Hoyt did not stay alone for long. I spoke with Hoyt, at length, on spiritual matters and that man knew the Truth and acknowledged it as being such. I know he believed in Christ's death and resurrection and not one time in any of our conversations did he ever doubt or question such things. I personally, am convinced that when he passed away in his room that night that his spirit went directly into the presence of God.

I can also say that I am very grateful that the Lord allowed me to spend that time with Hoyt Knox for the little time of his life that was left. I think that, for Born Again Christian Believer's anyway, that the Lord, through His sovereignty, will always bring people into our lives for purposes of ministry, evangelism, encouragement, and friendship.

And you know, there was a time when I thought that my move to Chattanooga was a terrible mistake; a detour that was a waste of my time. But if I hadn't made that move, as difficult as it was at times, I would have never met Hoyt Knox, Dave Hamrick, or all the others I met along the way. And sound relationships, strengthened by God's love and grace, are the only things that ultimately really matter in this life.