(Left) Doug Fincher and (right) James Cannon
(Revelation 3:5) He that overcometh, the same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father, and before his angels.
August 24, 2020 - I received a Facebook message yesterday from Cynthia Cannon Ford, James Cannon’s daughter. “Brother Doug, I wanted to let you know that Daddy died Thursday,” she wrote. I called James a few months ago after hearing he was ill. His voice was weak, but I heard later that he had recovered. When I learned of his funeral, I thought all day about my dear friend and the many experiences we had together.
Even though James’ hometown was only eight miles from mine at Center, I first met him in 1972 when I became his Pastor in Lumberton, Texas. He was a Sunday School teacher, worked with the church youth, drove one of our church buses and served on the Tax equalization board in the fledgling… but booming… town of Lumberton.
James, Church Member Junior Stanley, and I hunted often on the Indian Reservation near Woodville, Texas. We’d have an early morning breakfast in Koonce, then build a fire and tell stories until daylight. One-night James said, “Junior, tell Brother Doug about shooting a deer… half-dressed… up here last year.”
“I was on my way back to the truck when I ‘had a call from nature,’” Junior chuckled. ”I leaned my rifle against a tree, and as I dropped my britches, I spotted a six-point buck staring at me… not thirty yards away.” “He stood stone-still as I eased up my .243 and got a clean shot on him.”
“So both of you had a staring experience,” I laughed. James was one of the best hunters of my memory. He eased through the woods like an Indian and slipped up on me several times… without ever making a sound. Instead of hunting boots, he always wore Indian leather moccasins.
The last time I saw James was at First Baptist Church in Shelbyville. I was over-joyed to see him smiling as he walked into the church. He came home to visit his mother who lived in Shelbyville. When I told Cynthia I would write about her Dad in my second book, a wonderful truth flooded my heart. God promised He’d write James Cannon in His Great Book, too… and He kept His promise many years ago.
He wrote James Cannon’s name in The Lamb’s Book of Life.
