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Paul L. HARWELL Jr.

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Emory University Georgia State University

Paul HARWELL Obituary

HARWELL, Jr., Paul L. The Reverend Paul L. Harwell Jr. passed away Easter morning April 5th. A native of Albany, Ga., The Rev. Harwell graduated from Valdosta State with a major in history and also attended Emory University and Georgia State University. His first church position was as minister of the Antioch and Hopewell congregations near Gainesville, Ga. in 1952. He subsequently served congregations in Barwick, Macon, Savannah, Red Oak, Rome, Augusta, Thompson, Jonesboro, Morrow, Cartersville, and Winder, GA. His service to the United Methodist Church spanned from 1952 to 1994. He was a member of the Board of Ordained Ministry, North Georgia Conference and a member of the Phi Alpha Theta honorary historical society. The Rev. Harwell was one of the founders of the Georgia Methodist Federal Credit Union in the early 1960's, and a founder and first chairman of the Floyd-Chattooga Association for Retarded Citizens in 1969. He was also instrumental in helping to establish Urban Action Ministries of the North Georgia Conference of the United Methodist Church. Reverend Harwell was also instrumental in leading the integration of the Methodist Church (United), in the South Georgia and North Georgia Conferences during the 1960's. Reverend Harwell is survived by his three children; Paula Harwell, Vann Gaskin, and Michael Harwell. His grandchildren, Kara Harwell Day, Isaac Nitschke, Ian Gaskin, Ryan, Paige and Elise Harwell, and two great-grandchildren, Noah and Aiden Gaskin.

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Published by Atlanta Journal-Constitution on Apr. 21, 2015.

Memories and Condolences
for Paul HARWELL

21 Entries

Richard Thornton

August 28, 2017

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 making those first discoveries. Paul, I will always remember you and honor you.

Paul Harwell

Michael Harwell

May 3, 2015

Ryan Harwell

April 23, 2015

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 would explore Lake Hartwell in a metal boat to collect arrowheads...in a thunderstorm. And when I would visit him, he would always graciously share a piece of his mysterious historical artifacts with me. And these artifacts would always come with a great story. His brain was pretty much Wikipedia. He was a brilliant storyteller.

But one story stands out in my mind above the rest. This was back in 1996 when I was playing in a competitive soccer league. You know those soccer leagues - the ones with the over-involved parents and the kids who just want to be at home playing video games. And don't forget, the pompous British soccer coaches who are paid way too much to be coaching Under-15 soccer as a profession.

Early one Saturday morning, my team was scheduled to play another high-ranking team out of an upper-middle class suburb. Our team arrived an hour early, as usual, to properly warm up and discuss our very serious soccer strategies. After a shooting exercise, the coach brought the team in for a final huddle. Our 5"2 British coach knelt down and started mapping out the strategy. I was in the back row fantasizing about playing my Sega Genesis. My sycophantic teammates were all-ears though, bobbing their heads to the coach's direction. Everyone was always so serious.

Suddenly, a familiar and booming voice drowned out my coach's instructions. "RYAN? RYAN HARWELL?"

"Oh, god. I know that voice," I thought. My stomach dropped.

The voice continued to boom, "Ryan? Where are you? Ryan?"

I looked up. I hadn't seen him in a while, but it was him. It was my Pawpaw. His massive, bushy beard couldn't mask his wiley grin. And his cut-off jean shorts revealed two white legs that glistened in the sun. Yeah, it was my Pawpaw.

He hadn't seen me yet. Do I answer? Do I run away? This can't be happening. No one can interrupt Coach during his Under-15 youth soccer strategy huddle. No one! I'm destined to ride the bench forever! I panicked, looking for my Dad or Mom on the sidelines. They weren't there. Must be at the concession stand. The rest of the parents were sitting in their chairs, watching on in disbelief. It was a cardinal sin to approach the coach before game time. I could only imagine that they were thinking my Pawpaw was going to ruin their children's chance at a soccer scholarship. No! Why me?

My soccer coach stood up and looked at me. My eyes went wide. Pawpaw's eyes locked onto mine. My cleats were glued to the grass. What do I do? What do I do? Do something, Ryan. Do something!

"Ryan? Ryan! What's wrong, boy? You aren't embarrassed of your Pawpaw, are you? Now come give your Pawpaw a big hug," he said.

Oh. My. God. Everyone on my team was in shock. No one was talking. I imagine this is the last thing you expect to happen when listening to a soccer coach describe a 4-4-2 formation. The team on the other side of the field was watching. I worked up the courage to move. I walked around the outer edge of our huddle towards him. My head was hung low. Just make it be over. Just make it be over.

"That's right. Come on over here and give your Pawpaw a big bear hug," he shouted.

Did he really have to say "bear hug"? I walked up to him. He put his arms around me, lifted me up, and squeezed. My lungs nearly collapsed. I opened my eyes, and every single one of my teammates was staring. He held me in mid-air for what seemed like hours. My Diadora cleats dangling in mid-air. I was in bear hug purgatory.

He set me down. "Please be over," I thought.

"Now you go player soccer. I love you," he said. And he walked off the field. What the hell just happened?

We went on to win that game. I can't even remember the score or the name of the team. But that memory will always stay with me. That and my Dad would never let me live it down.

I want nothing more than to be back in that bear hug. I love you, Pawpaw.

April 23, 2015

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 asked for more for him.

I will always miss him. I know that I will see him again in heaven and that brings me peace.

Vann

Paul at a family gathering

Michael Harwell

April 22, 2015

Reverend Harwell at baptismal of an infant

Michael Harwell

April 22, 2015

Young man Paul on the farm

Michael Harwell

April 22, 2015

Paul and Juanita at a covered dish in Barwick

Michael Harwell

April 22, 2015

Paul as a young boy

April 22, 2015

WE had so many good years together. I am glad we had his last weeks to remember our life as one. I will always love him dearly and miss him so much. Juanita

paige harwell

April 22, 2015

I regret not seeing Pawpaw this last year, but his memories live strong and i carry them with me always. I can still feel the grasps of his arms as he gave the ultimate bear hug to all of his grandchildren. His deep and heavy southern voice and boom of a laugh still rings in my mind. I will miss him dearly and carry on his name with pride. Love you pawpaw

Paul with his parent and granchild

Michael Harwell

April 21, 2015

Paul and his favorite suit

Michael Harwell

April 21, 2015

Paul at Christmas

Michael Harwell

April 21, 2015

Paw Paw and Granchildren

Michael Harwell

April 21, 2015

Paul Sr. and Paul Jr.

April 21, 2015

Paula Harwell

April 21, 2015

Albert Schweitzer once wrote that the "purpose of human life is to serve, to show compassion and the will to help others". My father led a purposeful life.

Although, as his family, we feel that he is gone far too soon, we are grateful for the time we had to spend with, learn from, and love him.

April 21, 2015

May the God of all comfort strengthen the entire family during this time of deep sorrow. Those who pass on, God keeps in his memory because they are precious in his eyes. My sincerest condolences.
Psalms 116:15

April 21, 2015

I would like to share a few thoughts about my father for those who knew him. He was truly a vessel of The Word and made the Holy Scriptures palpable each and every Sunday. He never took his role of preaching lightly and understood it to be a sacred calling. He prepared as a scholar and spoke as a prophet. He gave for me a love of the outdoors, especially fishing. When we did not catch fish we spent time looking for Native American artifacts. I believe in another life he was a great warrior. I will always remember his ability to tell stories and how over time those stories became bigger than life. His love of collecting anything, or maybe everything went beyond the object and was for the thirst and love of knowledge. Most of all we will miss him. We love you Dad.

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