BY JAMES COFFIN

Radio commentator Paul Harvey has become famous for telling the "rest of the story." The following is one Paul Harvey missed.

HE YEAR, 1943.

The place: the Missouri Pacific Railroad office in Memphis, Tennessee.

The scene: a tense encounter between two unbending men--Haywood Severs (pronounced see-verz) and Walter Wicker.

"The choice is yours, Severs!" Mr. Wicker's tone left little doubt about his determination. "You can keep your Sabbath if you want. But if you do, I'm going to fire you."

"But, sir," Haywood responded, "I've worked here for years, and no one has ever made an issue about my having Friday night and Saturday off. As I've told you, I'm willing to work absolutely any other time."

"I don't care what's happened in the past," Mr. Wicker interjected. "I categorically refuse to have anyone on my payroll who won't work where and when we need him. So do you want a job, or don't you? It's as simple as that."

Actually, it wasn't that simple.

Of course Haywood wanted his job. In addition to having a family to feed, he was working his way through law school. But he also wanted to honor God by observing the Sabbath. To complicate matters, for two years the United States had been at war. Every able-bodied person was expected to do whatever possible to assist the war effort, and the transportation industry was vital.

Haywood's refusal to work on Saturdays wasn't viewed as just a quirky request for religious accommodation; it was tantamount to treason. When his country most needed him, he was refusing to help.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience this may cause you, Mr. Wicker," Haywood replied. "However, I have no choice but to follow my conscience, even if it means I lose my job."

"That's exactly what it means!" Mr. Wicker shot back. "You're fired!"

Background
The trip from the rail yard to the Severs home took longer than usual that day. Haywood wondered what his wife, Edith, would say. How could he feed and clothe their three children? And if a company that had employed him for years wouldn't give him Sabbath off, what could he expect when once again at the bottom of the heap?

As he made his way home, Haywood relived the events that had led to his becoming an Adventist.

Born in Helena, Arkansas, in 1907, Haywood was a distant cousin of Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain). His parents had carefully saved all the letters their famous relative had sent their way, bringing them out from time to time to show their children.

Haywood had headed to Memphis when he was 16. There he got a job with the Missouri Pacific Railroad as a delivery boy. Faxes and computers were nonexistent in those days, so bicycle couriers were the fastest way to send documents from the main office to the rail yard five miles away.

Tall and lanky, Haywood had soon earned the nickname "Sparky," because of the speed with which he rode from one location to the other. His commitment didn't go unnoticed, however, and promotions soon came his way.

Working in the main office at the time was a young secretary named Edith Finley, who was an Adventist. When Haywood began to pay more than casual attention to her, she wasted little time in getting him to consent to Bible studies. But Haywood was better at convincing than at being convinced.

In 1932 he and Edith were married, despite his smoking, drinking, and failure to keep the Sabbath. But Edith's example and the message of the Bible studies hadn't been without impact.

When the young couple's eldest child, Bill, was about 3, he one day managed to help himself to a decanter of wine that was supposed to have been out of reach. Liking the taste, he imbibed freely. The effect of the wine was profound. The effect of watching the inebriated youngster was even more profound.

"Edith," Haywood said remorsefully to his wife, "if wine has that effect, I'm not touching it again." And he didn't. Nor did he continue to smoke. And in 1936 he was baptized in the Memphis First church by Pastor E. W. Wolfe.

With each passing year Haywood's commitment to God and church deepened. And when in 1943 Walter Wicker told him he'd have to choose between his job and his beliefs, his choice, though painful, was never in doubt.

Meanwhile . . .
In 1915, a few years before Haywood Severs became a bicycle courier for the railroad, Evelyn Ockerman and Harold Roll (pronounced rahl) were married and set up house in Argenta (now North Little Rock), Arkansas. Harold worked for the Missouri Pacific Railroad.

Before long, Evelyn's sister-in-law, Alma Meister Ockerman, began Bible studies with the new bride. Convinced of the teachings of the Adventist Church, Evelyn was baptized in the early 1920s.

Harold observed Evelyn's spiritual journey with interest. Although supportive, he made it clear that her religion wasn't for him. And when his wife began paying tithe on the money he gave her to run the household, he had his reservations.

But Harold couldn't deny that it seemed the 90 percent she retained accomplished an amazing amount. In fact, he became so impressed that before long he invited her to pay tithe on his income as well.

Harold believed in Christ and sought to live a Christian life. But Sabbath observance was an obstacle. He didn't see how a railroad could be shut down one day in seven. To him, the railroad was a public utility--it had to run all the time.

Besides, he was climbing the corporate ladder so fast he didn't really have a lot of time to think about such things. And when he was invited to the railroad's corporate office in St. Louis, Missouri, he packed up Evelyn and the children and headed north.

The Crisis
Haywood Severs' family was stunned by the news of his firing. Not sure what to do, they spent a lot of time on their knees. In fact, the entire Memphis First church joined them in pleading with God.

The financial implications of unemployment were but part of the problem. As a railroad employee, Haywood had received a deferment from military service. When the job went, so did the deferment.

In desperation Haywood sat down and wrote a letter to the chief personnel officer at Missouri Pacific Railroad's corporate office in St. Louis. He outlined the rationale for his beliefs. He described his years of service to the company. He told of the hardship his family faced if he remained unemployed. And he asked that his case be reviewed--quickly.

But days turned into weeks, and no word came from St. Louis. The family's meager savings were disappearing fast. The prayers of the Severs family and their fellow church members seemed to be falling on deaf ears in heaven.

Surprise
Almost five weeks to the day after Haywood was fired, the phone rang. It was a subdued Walter Wicker, asking if Haywood could meet him at his office.

Rising from his chair, Mr. Wicker graciously extended his hand. "Severs," he said, "you've got your job back. And I've been told to give you back pay for the weeks you missed, as well as compensation for the inconvenience experienced."

Shaking his head in wonder, the boss added, "You obviously have a great relationship with the Lord above, and you have some powerful friends on earth."

Although not sure what Mr. Wicker meant, Haywood was ecstatic. To all those who had been praying, there was no question: This was a miracle. God had honored Haywood's loyalty. And in the months and years to come, whenever the church invited people to testify about God's leading in their lives, Haywood would enthusiastically tell of his firing and mysterious rehiring.

The Explanation
After he told the story one day in 1946, Fay Denny, a newcomer to Memphis First church, told him she knew the details of how he got his job back. "Would you like to hear the rest of the story?" she asked.

Haywood didn't need to be asked twice.

Fay had recently arrived from St. Louis with her husband, Robert, who was the superintendent in charge of building a new bridge across the Mississippi River. She earlier had attended the St. Louis Central church with Evelyn Roll, whose husband, Harold, was chief personnel officer at Missouri Pacific Railroad's corporate office.

One day at church Evelyn told Fay about a fellow Adventist in Memphis who had been fired by Missouri Pacific because he wouldn't work on Sabbath. She told how the man's request for reconsideration had lain on her husband's desk for weeks because he was out west on a trip.

Because of Harold Roll's positive regard for the Adventist Church--to which he had been paying tithe for years--he intervened decisively once he became aware of the situation. His message to Walter Wicker was: "You get that man back to work, or I'll have a piece of you!"

"That," said Fay Denny, "is the rest of the story."

From that day onward, whenever he gave his testimony, Haywood could include the name of a stranger, Harold Roll, who had become his benefactor.

More Still
When the Roll family had moved to St. Louis, Harold and Evelyn's son, Harold, Jr., was in high school. His father wanted him to go to military school, but Harold wasn't so sure. On occasion he attended St. Louis Central church with his mother, but he was more interested in "having a good time" than in either church or study.

That all changed when he attended an evangelistic series conducted by Pastor Fordyce Detamore. On Christmas Day 1942 young Harold not only demonstrated his commitment to Christ by being baptized; he resolved to spend his life working for the church.

Questions for Reflection or for Use in Your Small Group 1. When have you had to take a stand for your convictions? What was at risk? What were the results? 2. When has someone come to your defense when you were trying to remain faithful to your principles? What did they do? 3. What is the relationship between people who stand for religious principles and people who speak out in support of other human rights? 4. Which historical figures do you admire (either past or present) for their willingness to stand for principle? Name three.

In 1956, after several years of church employment, Harold Roll, Jr., accepted a call to serve as secretary-treasurer of the Florida Conference, with offices in Orlando. Scarcely into his new job, the young conference officer had a heart attack, causing his father to do some serious thinking about his own mortality.

For years, Harold, Sr., had observed the example of his wife, Evelyn. He had seen his children's spiritual commitment. And from afar he had seen Haywood Severs stand up for his beliefs even if it meant losing his job. Besides, the section of the Missouri Pacific Railroad that he was overseeing at the time didn't run on Sabbath. So as soon as Harold, Jr., recovered from his heart attack, he was given the pleasure of baptizing his father. Later, Harold, Sr., and Evelyn also moved to Orlando.

Meanwhile, Haywood and Edith's son, Bill Severs, had decided to become a dentist. After graduating from what was then Southern Missionary College (now Southern Adventist University), he earned his dental degree from the University of Tennessee. And in 1961 he established a dental practice in Orlando.

Inevitably Bill soon became acquainted with Harold, the conference secretary-treasurer. One of his first questions was whether Harold was related to the Harold Roll who had once been chief personnel officer at Missouri Pacific Railroad's corporate office in St. Louis. When the answer was yes, he told him the story of how his father's job was saved because Harold's father intervened.

The Meeting
With Bill and his family living in Orlando, it was only natural that Haywood and Edith would come for a visit. And the major item on Haywood's "to do" list was to meet Harold Roll, Sr.

On a Sabbath in the mid-1960s, at the Forest Lake church, the two men finally met. And what a meeting it was. Harold Roll had played a crucial role in sparing Haywood Severs the pain of unemployment, and Haywood Severs had set an example of fidelity that, along with many other such examples, had helped Harold Roll decide to make a full and complete commitment to Christ.

It was a brief meeting, but it was long enough for each man to hear the rest of the story. At least they got to hear the rest of the story as it's known so far.

Life's actions are like ripples on a pond: They go on . . . and on . . . and on. And it doesn't take a lot of imagination to believe that when Haywood and Harold meet again, this time with eternity at their disposal, they may well discover that the impact of their actions went even further than either of them could have ever dreamed.

Only then will they--and all of us--truly hear the rest of the story.

_________________________
James Coffin is senior pastor of the Markham Woods church in Longwood, Florida.