Sandy

[Announce – Ken wants to greet you in a reception in the fellowship hall immediately following this service. (Jim)]

Sandra Wright Hatfield, at the age of 60, escaped the bonds of earth Thursday, Jan. 15, 2009.

She was born Nov. 28, 1948, in Kennett, Mo., to Hoyt A. and Verline (Brooks) Wright. She was a professional barrel racer who competed at the highest level of her sport, earning a lifetime membership in the Women's Professional Rodeo Association. She will also be remembered for her traveling companion, Sheriff, her beloved 130 lb. bull mastiff. In her travels she made sure her love of the Lord showed through her; whether it be in private talks with other cowgirls or with devotionals, she would share God's love. She was a loyal, trusted friend to many.

Sandy was an animal lover who turned her love of animals to helping others by training dogs as therapy dogs and taking them to local nursing homes and The Veteran's Administration Hospital in Fayetteville. She was a student of sign language, a painter and a member of Christ's Church in Fayetteville.

Sandy, in all her accomplishments, still made sure that her main job in life was being her husband's biggest supporter of 39 years. As a coach's wife she was always there for him and was the mom away from home to every player on the team.

She leaves behind her husband, Ken Hatfield; two sisters, Annette Jones of Paragould, Ark., and Sherry Webb of Piggott, Ark.

"In March, 1969, I met Sandy on a plane trip as she was our flight attendant. After badgering her for more peanuts and Cokes – I got up enough courage to ask her for a date when I got to Memphis. She consented and 1 week later we enjoyed our first date.

"The next day I called my mother in Helena and told her that I met the girl I was going to marry. Her comment was, “Well, do we get to meet her before the wedding?”

"Unbeknownst to me, Sandy called her mother and told her she had a date and was going to marry him if he asked her. Her mother (Verline) told Sandy’s dad (Hoyt) “Sandy has lost her mind.”

"Two months later, on May 26^th, 1969 Sandy and I were married in Kennett, Missouri.

"We then embarked on a honeymoon – first to Cherokee Village (that’s right, the retirement community) and then to a Fellowship of Christian Athletes Summer Camp at Fayetteville. She says she should have known something was amiss as we were put in a dormitory with twin beds – bolted to the floor. What had she gotten into!

"Sandy was fiercely competitive! As head freshman coach at the University of Tennessee we played Notre Dame on a weekend the varsity was off. A local sports writer had written that there was nothing happening on this open week. Sandy called him (did not give her name) and royally chewed him out – reminding him that the freshman team WAS playing Saturday – then hung up.

"The Sunday Sports Edition graciously wrote about the Tennessee freshman victory over Notre Dame (then the sports writer wrote “Now, will that cute co-ed who called me please call and apologize for no coverage.)

"As a coach’s wife – Sandy was the best. We were entertaining our defensive backs at the University of Florida – Sandy had prepared Lasagna. Leonard George remarked that he had never had Lasagna. After eating, Leonard said, “Mrs. Hatfield, that Lasagna was “interesting” – she fixed him pork chops.

"In 39 ½ years of marriage I had only 2 bad meals. One was sauerbrauten and I can’t remember the other one.

"Sandy even won a Blue Ribbon in High School at the County Fair for her best Apple Pie!

"She then had to return her prize because there were NO apples in it – it was her delicious Ritz Cracker recipe!

"Jerry Hayner of Beaver Dam Baptist Church helped us grow as a young Christian couple and when we moved to Gainesville, Florida, Sandy hounded me to recommend Jerry as Pastor for the traditional First Baptist Church of Gainesville. It paid off and Jerry ministered there for 10 years. He helped us through some difficult times.

"In December 1977 Bill Parcells offered us a job on his staff at the United States Air Force Academy. (Flew from Orlando, Florida to Colorado Springs, Colorado – with only a sweater) I loved the opportunity but I froze. I called sandy and told her I could not live in this cold. She said, “Wait one day and see how you feel tomorrow.”

"The next day was better and we moved, but Sandy never remembered saying that.

"Sandy never missed a game – outside that locker room – hugging and encouraging each player and coach.

"It paid dividends in the first victory over Notre Dame – but more importantly in each life that saw “somebody cared.”

"Sandy met Duane and Barbara Shipman at the Denver Rodeo Church Source – they pastored the Foursquare Church in Colorado Springs. We started attending and experienced the power of the Holy Spirit that saved our lives and saved our marriage.

"Sandy attended a Women’s only meeting called “Women are Wonderful” which emphasized that God loved each lady – just the way they were.

"Each woman was given a small present to open – as they felt special to receive a gift without earning it. Tina Diassio explained that God loves you just as you are – you do not earn it – it is a gift!

"This impacted Sandy forever as she became a prayer & support warrior to many special ladies.

"At Arkansas – I can still see Sandy hugging Wayne Martin’s dad after he rode that Greyhound bus to every game and walked from the bus station on south School street to the stadium and stood outside waiting on Wayne.

"At Clemson – playing Florida State, Sandy would adorn herself in an Indian War bonnet – paint stripes on Sheriff (our dog) to simulate the Clemson Tiger (mascot) – then ride her horse around the field to remind those playing – this was important.

"She knew that beautiful animal depended upon her and she treated each horse like a king.

"I see her – walking to the barn – haltering Blitz – brushing and cleaning before saddling. Then hopping up and slowly walking off to enjoy a time of solitude and wonder with her horses.

"Sandy was a fierce competitor and she loved the adrenaline rush as her name was called on the loud speaker and she and Blitz thundered into the arena and circled the 3 barrels and exploded by the laser timer.

"Her trusted companion “Sheriff” a 130 pound bullmastiff was constantly at her side for 13 years – never did that truck start without Sheriff in the backseat.

"When Sandy parked the truck and trailer and began to prepare to compete – a chained up Sheriff would lie by the truck and smile at everyone walking by. Sheriff was undefeated as a body guard.

My memories of Sandy go back to when I was 8 years old. I was thoroughly impressed with her because she’s one of the fancy ladies in the rodeo who rides around the barrels really fast. I was only impressed with Ken because he knew Tom Osborne, and for a little girl who just moved to Arkansas from Nebraska, knowing Tom Osborne was quite a thing to be proud of.

I always loved to go to the rodeo to watch Sandy. We’d paint big posters and glue glitter all over, “Go, Sandy, Go!” I was just beside myself with anticipation during the rodeos, waiting for them to call her name and see her shoot out of the gate on her horse. And when they’d announce her name, they’d frequently say that she’s the wife of Coach Hatfield. What bothered me about that is at the football games I always wanted them to say that Ken was the husband of fancy barrel racer Sandy Hatfield when they talked about Ken – or at least mention that he knows Tom Osborne.

I had mixed emotions about her barrel racing. On the one hand, what she was doing was so cool, but on the other hand, those horses kept causing her to get hurt and have more surgeries, and I loved her and didn’t like to see her get hurt so much.

I couldn’t have loved Sandy any more if I were born her daughter. She called me at least once a week to check on me, and she’d send me the nicest cards to encourage me when I was going through a hard place. She waited in the waiting room during all my medical procedures after the car accident. She has always been there for me. Her compassion for me never ended. And the way she loved me made me feel special and humbled to be loved by someone so amazing.

She made me laugh like no one else can. No one can tell a story as well as Sandy. I was convinced that she and Ken needed to take their act on the road and have a “Ken & Sandy Show” because two of them together are hysterically funny.

When Sandy told me that she was dying, she asked me to take care of Ken. That’s a big job that I’m sure will require a lot of duct tape. She told me about the time Ken was trying to do something in the attic, and he fell through the ceiling in their bedroom. It left a huge hole, which he tried to conceal with lots and lots of duct tape, hoping Sandy wouldn’t notice. She noticed.

She has a million of those funny Ken stories. The way she told them made them even funnier.

The day my divorce was finalized in court, I flew down to Houston to spend the weekend with Ken & Sandy. Somehow that made everything better. She cooked for me and talked to me and let me walk around with the horses. She was there for me when I needed her.

I sat by Sandy at a lot of football games. She sure could get fired up at Ken’s football games. Sandy is fiercely loyal. She loves people in spite of their faults; it’s not that she tried to pretend the faults didn’t exist. She acknowledged the shortcomings but loved us in spite of them, and that’s a bigger kind of love because it’s real, it’s genuine, it means a lot.

Sandy’s the best cook I know, no offense Mom. She made me this pumpkin cake more times than I can count. It’s my favorite food in the world, and only Sandy knows how to make it the right way. She always said that she liked people who had worn-out, stained pots and pans because you could tell they were good cooks. So I took a fork and scratched up my cookware; you know, the abbreviated process.

Last year, I came home from New York, and she and Ken took me out for a good steak – not like the one she told us about in Chicago when they first got married – this was actually a good steak. And after dinner she presented me with a whole pan of that pumpkin cake just for me. I ate the entire 9x13 pan in 2 days. It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted! And her dessert made out of twinkies! Oh, man, I miss Sandy and her kitchen!

I remember my family taking her a big cookie one year for her birthday, and I was so excited to tell her, “Look, Sandy, it says, ‘Lordy, Lordy, Sandy’s 40.” I was so proud of the rhyme in icing, but she was not amused. She made it clear that we didn’t need to re-read it out loud. And that made us all laugh. She was always making us all laugh. She made the world more fun and happy. She made everyone feel at ease and important and happy.

Last year for my birthday she gave me some sunglasses with fancy bling all over them. She told me, “I bet those are the only thing you have that came from Cavender’s Boot Supply.” She was right. I always wanted to be like Sandy, but I never could muster the courage to put on a pair of cowgirl boots.

This year for my birthday she and Ken gave me the DVD’s of “The Gods Must Be Crazy 1 & 2”. I kind of secretly think God must be crazy to let Sandy endure such a horrific accident a year-and-a-half ago that caused her so much pain and more surgeries, only to take her like this so soon afterwards. Why didn’t God spare her the pain and suffering and take her during the fall on the horse? Maybe, as it turns out, God’s not crazy at all. Maybe He gave her just a little more time because we needed more time with her. I needed more time with her. I want more time with her still.

Sandy found out for sure that she was dying on the same day I found out I would have to have chemo. I begged her to fight this thing and take chemo with me. We could help each other through it. I would be there with her for every treatment, but she had peace about this. She didn’t want to fight it and suffer longer. She wanted to go be with her God. I’m still not ok with her choice because Sandy was a larger than life force in my world, and I miss her.

I am reminded of John Calvin’s writing, “Thou bruiseth me, Oh Lord, but if it be Thou, it is well.” Sandy knew God was in control, and she fully accepted this diagnosis. I feel bruised and deeply pained at the loss of Sandy in my life, but I am fortunate to have shared life with her. My life was better because Sandy was in it. Much better.

Sandy and I have been friends for 22 years. We’re kind of an unlikely pair – she was so petite, and I’m of the large-boned persuasion, she was outdoors everyday, and I’ve been accused of being prissy, she always let you know where she stood on issues, and I just try not to confront anything controversial. But, we were friends.

I think the wife of a coach and the wife of a preacher have more in common than most people know. When anyone would criticize Ken, Sandy would come out swinging. She’s been known to shake her finger in an official’s face and say “Shame on you!” or deliver a well-placed umbrella tip in the ribs of a heckler. She didn’t appreciate anyone talking bad about her husband or second-guessing his decisions. I could relate....We were friends.

She loved her children – her dogs. I don’t know any other “kids” that were as well-cared for as Granger and Margo, and Sheriff and Nordic were. She made sure they had the right kind of food, exercise, and medical attention as any mother would their children. They, in turn, would love her and be her companions for life. We talked about the different personalities of our children, and it was as real as if they were all of the “human” kind. She had a big heart and a deep love.

I’ve seen Sandy shopping for just the right gift for people she knew who needed something. She never wanted any fanfare about it, but she wanted to make sure it was exactly what suited them. Only God knows the hundreds of people she has blessed in their time of need in her lifetime.

Sandy was a master storyteller. Ken would just say that they went to Wimbledon and watched some tennis. Sandy would give all the funny details of staying in a bed and breakfast that was far from hospitable on the hottest days on record for England – without the benefit of air conditioning. About them asking if it would be within walking distance to the tennis matches, or should they call a taxi - and being told that it was just a short jaunt. Their idea of a short jaunt and Sandy’s were quite different – and it was all uphill. She told of their visit to Japan and Ken’s episode with a Bidet - with all the details. She could make you laugh through your tears.

I told her once that her ministry must be that of sending cards. She sent hundred of cards a year. She would send one every major holiday, and then sometimes just randomly, and always when she thought someone was hurting. She must have spent hours writing those cards - a personal note with each one to let you know she cared. I wonder how many people she touched with those thoughtful notes. The thing that sums Sandy up was the way she would sign her letters every time. It was so Sandy. She’d end each one with “Take charge!” That was Sandy - we were friends.

Eulogy: (Announce – “Ken wants to greet and visit with you at a reception immediately following the service.”)

scripture reading from James 4:13 Now listen, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money."

14. Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

15. Instead, you ought to say, "If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that."

One year ago this week Sandy sent me this in an email. It is sooooo ‘Sandy’ that I had to share it with you:

If a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.

Being always grateful for each new day and for the blessing you have.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!

That's what dogs teach us...

That was Sandy. Sandy was as straightforward in her relationships as those wonderful dogs: Nordic, Sheriff, Granger, and Margo.

Sandy was just Sandy - no pretense, no hidden agendas, good day/bad day, Sandy was who she was. She didn’t finesse anything that I ever knew of.

Sandy was an absolutist. There were no shades of gray in her world. It was black and white. It was right or it was wrong. She was raised that way. She has often said that in her world growing up - her dad was ALWAYS Wright…Hoyt Wright! She also said that she was a whole lot more like Hoyt than she was like Verline. Although, her ability to shape and phrase an opinion was undoubtedly greatly influenced by Verline.

And Sandy did have opinions. If you were ever looking for a compliment and Sandy had not offered one, you DID NOT want to ask her what she thought. She would say, “Well, since you asked…”

Sandy had the bad habit of listening to every word of every sermon. She once took me to task for inferring that Mary Magdalene might have been a ‘loose’ woman. “Where does it say that? Huh, where does it say that?!!” “If it doesn’t say that then why do preachers say that about that woman?!”

“And about the Apostle Paul…he and I would NOT GET ALONG!”

Sometimes she would call to vent about some other preacher she had heard. It invariably would strike me funny, and I would laugh. She would say, “You can laugh but I don’t see anything funny about it. WHERE ON EARTH DOES HE GET IT THAT…??!!!”

Sandy was the consummate story-teller. She was superb. Nobody could ‘craft’ a story that could match anything she told! She would get more and more ‘into’ the story and get more and more intense and her voice would get higher and higher, and her eyes would squint tighter and tighter and her hands were both in the air in front of her…and anyone listening would be gasping for air.

It might be Ken taking her to Chicago for the first time, or Ken inventing dental-floss-to-go, or Margo taking off after a squirrel (or a cat, I don’t recall the details, I was too busy ‘seeing the picture’ of Sandy sliding along the ground face down being pulled at the end of the leash and irritated with Ken because somehow it was his fault).

It might be about Nordic or Sheriff quietly coming up behind some big-hatted cowboy who was determined to give her advice on everything he thought that she needed to do differently…there were clowns whose donkeys didn't appear to be any bigger than those dogs!

It might be Verline’s “hardy” flowers, or Verline sending Hoyt to the liquor store to buy beer for her to use to shampoo her hair, or Verline being transported to the hospital after a bad fall on the bleachers when watching a grandkid playing in a ballgame – and making the ambulance driver pull over at a convenience store so that the paramedic could get her a tube of chap-stick before she arrived at the emergency room.

It might be Verline’s house-cleaning, or burning the trash, or Ken’s first visit to her home church Sunday School class, or the differences between Ken’s Methodist upbringing and her Baptist raisin’.

It might be Sandy ‘accidentally’ jamming the handle of her umbrella full force into the ribs of a heckler at a game, or it could be Ken trying to get on his bicycle…so many of her stories were about Ken. It was better than George Burns and Gracie Allen. All Ken had to do was just sit there – Sandy was on a roll.

Sandy was absolutely hilarious - even when she was greatly agitated over any one of the great and egregious injustices that she so readily accepted as her next challenge for fait accompli. Sandy WAS always up for any challenge presented by someone mistreating a horse, a dog, a wife… ewwww – especially some insensitive lout who didn’t know how to treat his wife or girlfriend. There have been a few fools who tried to intimidate Sandy. A stranger would have better luck trying to take a treat away from Granger and Margo.

Sandy was called by God to nurture wounded souls. At any given time she probably had a dozen people whom she would call every day to make certain they were doing okay. She probably spent more time praying about other people’s problems than some folks spend addressing their own problems.

Sandy was a life-line for lots of people down through the years. It wasn’t that she was ‘religious’ - she was unabashedly Christian. Her faith was straight-forward and not complex. That didn’t mean that she didn’t have questions…as Ken said the other night, he suspects that she is ‘grilling’ God right now about more than a few things.

Her relationship with God was very much an open dialogue…sometimes adversarial, often argumentative. She KNEW that God heard her, although she sometimes felt that He didn’t pay attention. She also accused Ken of being that way.

Ken and Sandy – a neat love story: the love between the two of them… Sandy respected Ken deeply. That was obvious. While Sandy always wanted to do well in every rodeo she ever entered, and she wanted her horse to do well, and she wanted her dogs to do well in their competitions…her ambition was really wrapped up in wanting Ken’s happiness and successes wherever they were at the time.

As Jean’s cousin, Van Hampton, a Western District Judge in Kansas, said when he heard of Sandy’s passing – “Death is the capstone to life. I believe that God’s plan would involve a life well lived, followed by a courageous and gracious death. I know God has a purpose in giving life – and that it is always followed by death. I just wish these good people would live longer.”

So do I…so do I.

“The changes wrought by death are in themselves so sharp and final and so terrible and melancholy in their consequences that the thing stands alone in man’s experience and has no parallel on earth.” Robert Louis Stevenson

“Life is so precious and life is so fragile that we must treat the living as if they were dying and the dead…as if they were alive.” Nicholas Berdyaev

23^rd Psalm & Pastoral Prayer