The memories from the mid-1970’s lay spread out over the canvass of my mind like a beautiful painting. The period found me in my mid-teens, totally obsessed with sports, with the details of basketball a paramount subject of contemplation. I learned of Jesus Christ in Church, but for anyone who knew me at the time, they would tell you that David Thompson, the star basketball player at NC State, ran a close second in gaining my reverence.

No one in our neighborhood knew more about, or exceeded me in intensity when it came to discussing the basketball exploits of the NC State star. Even back then, at the age of twelve, I had a burning desire to visit Thompson’s homeplace of Boiling Springs, NC, a small community located just nine miles away from Shelby. But, in 1974 I was too young to drive, and it would have been incomprehensible to get anyone in my adult World to have made that trip for the reasons that I wanted to. I did not have the maturity to cogently explain my profound love of God’s spirit of greatness, as He manifested it in the physical form of a basketball player, nor was I sufficiently perspicacious in getting across my conviction that greatness eternally resides in the location where God initially places it. I knew that God has created reality in such a way that wherever greatness flowers in a specific geographic location, no matter what else happens henceforth in that distinct spot, the spirit of that greatness remains there forever. We feel this in the tingling of our souls when standing in Historical places.

This confluence of variables fueled my desire to visit David’s hometown. In October of 2010, I made my way over to Boiling Springs, and had the pleasure of a surreal visit. My experiences with The Law Of Attraction made it no surprise to me that God put me in touch with two of David’s sisters, with me being able to spill out my deep-seated appreciation for their brother and the joy of meeting them, proclaiming to both, “I have been planning this trip inside of my head since I was twelve years old,” noting to myself that my 49^th birthday lay in the not-too-distant future.

The years had certainly seemed to pass in haste, but that did nothing to allay the mystical, God-like peace I felt standing on the homestead of the Thompson family, imagining the basketball greatness that evolved there. I have long been convinced that David was far-and-away a much greater college basketball player than Michael Jordan ever was. I stood in complete silence on the Thompson property as my revery took me to David’s words:

“Basketball was a common bond between me and Vellie Jr., (David’s older brother) and out back, beyond our house, we cleared off an area that would become my personal “Court of Dreams.” What started out as a grassy meadow was quickly reduced to red dirt because of the countless hours we pounded the ball out there. Even in the rain, when the makeshift court ran thick with burgundy mud, we played. I was five and had fallen in love with the game of basketball. With wooden backboards, steel rims, and homemade nets, it felt like Madison Square Garden to me.”—from pg. 8 David Thompson: Skywalker

I was now standing on the subject property of Thompson’s reflection. I took a picture that day with my

David Thompson’s Homeplace–Boiling Springs, NC (Taken 2nd trip 03/30/12)

digital camera, and to anyone looking at it, all the individual will see is a wide field of tall grass and the burned out hulk of the old Thompson home, but I see something entirely different. I see God’s presence, and can simply reply, “That is not just a field of grass. That is where David Thompson learned to play basketball.” It matters not that no one else understands. God is in perfect accord with me. I know he “gets it,” because He is the very reason that I do. In traveling the two hours and twenty minutes away from my home in Asheboro that day in October of 2010, I had the prodigious experience of having all that was poignant about my teenage years return to me in a flood of memories while standing in a tall field of grass in Boiling Springs, NC. God works in mysterious ways.

The inexplicable was confounded when I learned that David Thompson would be coming to my hometown of Asheboro, NC in May of 2013, to give a motivational speech as a part of the Mayor’s Annual Prayer Breakfast. Nothing can convince me that it was not my profound and deep thoughts about David, over the years, that had worked themselves out through the Law Of Attraction, to magnetize and draw Thompson to, of all places, my hometown. No expostulated argument will work. The news of David’s coming sent me hustling to the Mayor’s office, leaving a copy of my book Reality’s Pen: Reflections On Family, History & Culture, accompanied by a short note explaining that two of the stories within it were about the NC State star. Later, I was pleased to receive two Mayoral tickets to Thompson’s scheduled address, as acknowledgment of my book.

The Mayor’s recognition of my unique vibe with David must have been somehow mysteriously picked up by the star himself, since there seemed to have been a rather bizarre, individual call-and-response going on between him and me in the initial stages of his address. He was telling his personal history and arrived to tell of his 1978 game where he scored 73 points against Detroit. He asked a series of three questions, directed at the audience, eliciting an initial awkwardness of silence. Once I broke that silence by supplying a reply, he went on to ask two additional questions that I promptly responded to, with the ambiance of the next minute or two having the weird feel of a personal, private conversation between the two of us, since we were the only ones talking.

David resumed control of his speech by returning to his history, going through all of his ups and downs in pro ball, the time period incorporating his misuse of illegal drugs and alcohol. At some point within his delivery, everyone in the room understood that we were hearing a professional athlete’s cautionary tale of the pitfalls of drugs and alcohol, with Thompson concluding the speech on a sanguine note, exhorting all to learn from his mistakes, all the while preaching his testimony of redemption and his profound conviction in his religious salvation. He recited the Biblical verse of Romans 10:13 to reinforce the lesson that he wanted to get across.

His teaching resonated with the audience, creating a buzz and desire for some of us to meet him personally, to shake his hand and to thank him for his address. After waiting my turn, I was finally able to meet my hero and to thank him for the joy he had given me over the years, handing him a copy of my book, all the while explaining to him that it was my gift to him for all that he had given me. I then handed Thompson a copy of his autobiography to sign. He signed it, adding a little something extra, upon his conclusion, as he returned it to me. Mr. Harold Isbell, my guest for the day, also had David sign a copy of his Event Program. It immediately occurred to me to ask Harold if I could see what Thompson had written, secretly searching to see if he had also written something extra. David did not, since Harold’s Program contained only Thompson’s signature. I took a glance at my book, gaining an instant lightening bolt of recognition, seeing that David had simply written “Romans 10:13” after signing his name. I paused for a second to pray silently and to offer my thanks to God, making it clear to Him that I understood that even at the exact moment of Thompson signing my book, God was speaking to me through what David had written. Romans 10:13 reads, “For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord, shall be saved.”

I am not trying to be overly pious when I say that I think that part of my religious experience that day came from seeing God’s hand and presence in it. I was reminded of God’s aura as I was just about to depart from David’s sphere, only to catch sight of him talking to another patron out of the corner of my eye. The image seemed perfect, as he was still holding the copy of my book in his right hand. It was as if he was a model, striking the perfect pose for me as photographer, since I could think of no more profound sight than the one of my basketball hero holding my book, a book that contains two very profound stories about him, within it.

David Thompson holding a copy of “Reality’s Pen” 05/13/13 in Asheboro, NC

I rushed to take the shot with my digital camera, and that showed in the result of a poorly-lit photo, but one that still manages to cover what I had hoped. All in all, I left the event that day with a sense of profound satisfaction. I had attended with the hope of meeting David Thompson. I had accomplished my goal with God making sure to add a number of serendipitous gifts for the day.