Paul L. HARWELL Jr.

In the last three years of his time on Earth, I wonder if Paul knew that as a minister at Red Oak United Methodist Church and my surrogate uncle, he planted the seeds that would ultimately change the early history of Georgia. He was the first person outside my Mother's family to openly and honorably call me a Creek Indian. More importantly, he introduced me to my Creek heritage and to the wonders of archaeology. My great regret is that I did not know where lived during the time that I was...

My memories of Pawpaw are endearing, bizarre, and hysterical. He was a fascinating, intriguing, and eclectic man. I guess you could say it runs in the family, and for that, I'm incredibly grateful. Because boring is...well, boring. And Pawpaw wasn't boring. Far from it.

He's responsible for giving me some great memories. As a child, I was always fascinated by him. He drank buttermilk out of a carton like it was straight-up chocolate milk. And he loved collecting artifacts. We...

Dad was my mentor. He was the one who answered all of my theological and biblical questions. His sermons were the best. I have yet to find another preacher who could reach me as he did. He had an insatiable thirst for knowledge. His sermons reflected his knowledge and his passion for Jesus Christ.

Dad went in peace. The last month of his life he had all of his family around him. Although he was suffering an in pain, I could tell he was happy and at peace. I could not have...