This post is about mentors. We've all had them. At least I hope that everyone can say that they've had one. I've actually been blessed enough to have had several in my 39 years on this earth. Some I sought out. Others seemed to just appear even if I didn't know I needed them. One such individual was a early and extremely formative mentor in my life. In fact, I doubt I'd have any of the blessings that I sometimes take for granted without his undeniable influence on me. This man recently turned 80 years old and I wasn't able to be there to celebrate with him or tell him how much I appreciate him. Now I hear that he has fallen ill and is in the hospital back in my hometown of Anderson, SC. So let me take this opportunity to reflect on what he meant in my life.
Allen "Bud" Putman. It's probably not a name you've heard before. He's not famous outside of a few thousand or so junior high and high school band students who went to school in upstate South Carolina. If you "google" his name the only mention you can find is his time in the mile at "The Michelin Midnight Flight" mile run back in 2002. (He was 71 years old and ran it in 8 minutes and 23 seconds. That's pretty darn good!)
For many he was a teacher. For some of us he was a light. For me he was an example. Sure he taught me how to play the trumpet which opened up a world of opportunity to acheivement, recognition and the realization that I was talented and special. But more than being my Jr high and High school band director, Mr Putman or "Bud" as most called him had the conviction and compasion to take me to church knowing that I was lost without Christ in my life.
Mr Putman had been my older brothers band director so we knew him well by the time my older brother started high school and I started jr high. My mom was a single mom raising two boys so Mr Putman took a special interest in the two of us and saw that we were ships without a rudder. Now my older brother was always responsible and did the right thing most of the time. But I was a different story. You might say I was in danger of "drifting". It's not that I was a bad kid, I just craved attention a little too much and knew that acting a certain way was a good way to get attention. And to be honest, I was pretty good at crossing the line without getting caught.
Mr. Putman saw an opportunity to use music as a way to get us to be a part of the "youth orchestra" at New Prospect Baptist church. My brother and some of the "cool" older kids were going to do it so I wanted to go along. Man was that the right decision! Mr Putman had been asked to be the interim music minister at the church and so he was able to bring in a bunch of us kids. It eventually led to me meeting some of my best friends throughout Jr High and High school as well as me getting involved in youth choir which in turn led to me getting saved. I also learned that I could sing pretty well. Have I mentioned before that I went to college on scholarships for singing and playing the trumpet? I met my wife while in college. The chain of events that have basically made up my adult life were all set in place because of the actions of this man.
I know that none of this is coincidence. God had a plan for my life. But Mr Putman was the instrument that God used to bring that plan into action. And not just for me, there are hundreds of boys and girls just like me with similar stories. I could tell story after story of him taking the time with me to instill little nuggets of wisdom or provide guidance and sometimes correction when it was needed. Believe me, I needed it a lot. My memory is flooded with images of almost Rockwellian type scenes like when he would pile more kids that are now legally allowed in one vehicle into the infamous "Bondo Buggy". A 70's era maverick that was only supposed to hold 4 people but we somehow were able to cram 7-8 kids along with our musical intrument cases and usually a few music stands to boot. Most of us were what you might call "underpriviledged" so we had no ride to anywhere. He would just scoop us all up and take us to whatever event the band was playing at. And when it was over, if our parents weren't there he'd pile us back in the bondo buggy and take us home one by one. It wasn't just after school either. I remember many a Sunday morning piling in the back of that car to head to church and then home again after sunday school and the 11 o'clock service was over. And since he didn't know a stranger, it usually meant that you had to sit around and hear several stories told the way that only Bud Putman could tell 'em. I didn't realize it back then, but I watched and I learned how to be a man of character and compasion in those times. He would live it out right in front of us. It wasn't in lectures and lesson plans, it was in a life lived with conviction and principle.
I don't know why we wait until its almost too late to tell people how much they mean to us. It's not on purpose. Perhaps its because we take them for granted. Maybe its just that we get busy living our own lives. But I know that I would be remiss if I didn't take the time to say how much I revere and love that man, Allen Bud Putman. You sir, are a "Mensch" as they say and I am eternally grateful for you. May your reward be great in heaven. And may you know that you are loved by many here on earth.
