The Story of John Tasch

  It was the same scenario week after week.  It was a crisp Sunday morning in Buffalo, New York.  I ran all the way from home to the doorstep of Kensington Missionary Alliance Church.  Reaching my destination, my run came to an abrupt halt, my heart racing in eager anticipation.  Suddenly my eyes focused on the obstacle before me.  The door had to be at least half a mile tall, half a foot thick, and half a ton heavy!  Opening that colossal door had become a weekly challenge.  My little juvenile hands tightly grasped the handle.  I planted my feet, took a deep breath, threw my weight and began to tug with all the strength I could muster up.  After prying the door open just a few inches, I wedged my tiny frame into the crack, slipping in before the monstrous door devoured me.  Victory was mine!

      Then I heard it; the voice, the reward after defeating the contending door.  “Johnny!  I’m so glad you’re here!”  There he was – my hero, Mr. Ray Milholland!  He made me feel like I was the most important person in the world.  He gave me the sense of being 10 feet tall!  Mr. Ray wrapped his loving arms around my 3½ -foot physique and gave me the biggest bear hug a little guy could handle.

      Mr. Ray was more than a Children’s Church worker, he was also my friend.  Someone I could look up to.  You see, for much of my childhood I grew up in a single-parent home.  My mom worked many long hours to keep food on the table for my sisters and me.  Mr. Ray would often phone me throughout the week to see how I was doing or to pray for me.  He had a genuine, loving concern for me as well as the other boys and girls in the church, but I was his favorite – at least he made me feel that way.

      Often times he and his lovely wife would come to my home in their fancy convertible Cadillac to take me, and sometimes my sisters, out for ice cream or a burger.  I couldn’t wait for him to get there!  Mrs. Milholland would graciously relocate to the back seat allowing me to sit up front.  Even though I could barely see over the dashboard, I felt like a king sitting in the front seat next to my pal.

      Years have passed since those days, but the effect of one man reaching out to me still impacts my life.  In my travels and ministry, I often speak of Mr. Milholland and his inspiration to me.  I’ve always said that when I get to heaven one of the first people I would look for is Mr. Ray.  I would wrap my arms around him and say, “Thank you for giving to the Lord.”

      After several occasions of hearing me speak of my hero, my wife, Shirley, asked me one day if I thought Mr. Ray was still alive.  I let out a long, emphatic, “Nooo!”  After all, in my youthful eyes, all adults were old.  I figured he had been in heaven for quite some time.

      Shirley suddenly became a “gumshoe!”  She spent weeks researching, writing letters, making phone calls and searching the internet.  Her investigation came to an end when she discovered that indeed Mr. Milholland was very much alive and well, living in Buffalo, New York.

            To my surprise, one day she came running into my office excitedly saying, “Guess who’s on the phone!  Guess who’s on the phone!  Mr. Ray is on the phone!”  I couldn’t believe it!  My mind couldn’t grasp that he was alive!  I quickly picked up the phone.  As I talked to him, inside I was thinking, “WOW!!  This is absolutely awesome!  I’m talking to the man who had such a tremendous impact on my life as a boy!”

      A few years ago, I had the joyous privilege of reuniting with Mr. Ray and his wife after over 45 years.  My wife and I were in Buffalo visiting family for the Christmas holiday.  The elements were not in our favor and, as it was when I was a boy, I again had the challenge of overcoming an obstacle – this time snow!  Nearly five days of snowfall and an accumulation of 84 inches resulted in road closings.  But we didn’t give up.  At the first sign of sunshine, my wife and I bundled up, confronted the snow and engaged in our journey to see Mr. Milholland and his wife.

      What a thrill it was to walk up his driveway and hear him say, “Johnny!  I’m so glad you’re here!”  Overwhelmed with emotion I swallowed hard over the lump forming in my throat.  I proudly wrapped my arms around Mr. Milholland, giving him the biggest bear hug he could handle.  With tears in my eyes I said, “Mr. Ray, thank you for giving to the Lord.”

      That blustery Saturday evening, my heart was overcome with warmth as we sat in his living room looking at slides of when I was in children’s church.  Reliving those memories, I began to think, “Did he know that I would grow up to travel the world to preach the gospel, hold revivals and minister in churches?  No, he didn’t know.  But, now I’m doing what I’m doing because of his genuine concern for me.  Think of how many people he is still impacting through me!

       Several years ago I had the honor of speaking at a conference for the New York Sunday School Association.  The theme was, “Coming Back to Give Back.”  Mr. Ray was attending that conference.  How appropriate that I had the opportunity to go back to my hometown and give what was given to me so many years ago.

      Today, Mr. Milholland continues his ministry work with boys and has been doing so for over 60 years.  Although only one person, Mr. Milholland has impacted many lives.  One person can make a world of difference!