Same Kind of Different As Me

A modern-day slave, an international art dealer, and the unlikely woman who bound them together.

Ron Hall & Denver Moore with Lynn Vincent.

ISBN 13: 978-0-8499-0041-9

Read 2007 October 14 – November 10

Reviewed 2007 November 24

This was borrowed from Marilyn Nixon and Viann thought I should read it. The sentence under the title sums it up but does not mention that non-author Debbie, Ron’s wife, who is the central player. She herself would say the central player was Jesus Christ.

This is the joint autobiography of highly unlikely friends and their not-that-unlikely individual stories that occur quite close to where and when I grew up myself. It reads as if Vincent interviewed both men several times, recorded their anecdotes on tape, and transcribed them with light editing. Chapters pretty much alternate back and forth between the lives of Ron and Denver. Vincent picks up the dialect of both quite well, for written words.

Ron was grandson of a farmer from Corsicana, a man who used Negroes in the ways that were common in the 1940s, as a different kind of working class, not slaves, but pretty near. Denver was such a Negro, growing up in a share-cropping environment in highly racist Louisiana.

Ron grew up, went to Texas Christian University, married Debbie, had an interesting life, and became an international art dealer through his passion for the subject and a few lucky breaks. Debbie was a strong fundamentalist Christian who kept Ron in the faith and eventually ended up having him help her at a Fort Worth homeless shelter every Tuesday. They also owned a ranch out on the Brazos somewhere, “Rocky Top,” where they and their two children would retreat as a family.

Denver grew up working for “The Man,” a term I now understand, having read of his experiences. The worker lived in a shack, owned by The Man. The Man provided food, clothes, and tools, such as they were, and whatever else was needed. Since the workers were not slaves, they had to buy all this from… The Man. The Man weighs in their proceeds (cotton picking, or whatever they are producing), figures up how much he owes them, deducts what they owe him, and gives them the difference, at least in principle. In practice, the worker never breaks even. He always owes The Man, who is gracious to let him continue living there and working there for him anyway.

One day, Denver got tired of this. He hopped a freight train and never looked back. He ended up living on the streets, homeless in Fort Worth, which he thought of as a step up socially.

While Ron was breaking into and working his way up on the international art scene, Denver was living tough on the street and knew it well, because you have to.

When Debbie talked Ron into going with her to help at the mission, she was acting on a dream she had had, one in which a man had arisen to make things better in the homeless community. When they saw Denver in the food line, she said he was the man and Debbie wanted Ron to make friends with him. After some time, Denver allowed Ron and Debbie to interact with him and after some more time and the famous, “Catch and Release” talk, Denver agreed to be Ron’s friend. (Denver, considering Ron’s friendship proposal, didn’t want it to be a “catch and release” like white folks sometimes do when sport fishing. He was only interested if the relationship was permanent, for keeps.) They went together into each other’s worlds, each protecting the other from the dangers in each. Denver had trouble believing the monetary value assigned to modern works of what was deemed art, from Ron’s world. He began doing some painting of his own. Everybody being weird in some way, Denver one day told Ron that he, too, was different, “Same kind of different as me.”

Denver perceived Debbie’s effectiveness in the Lord’s work and prophesied that Satan would attack her. Sure enough and without warning at her next routine physical, she turned up with colon cancer. After surgery she was pronounced cured, but soon her liver was found to be hopelessly overcome with the colon cancer. After another surgery she was pronounced cured again, but not for long. After several more chapters of this agony, what was left of her intestine was found to be blocked by cancer, inoperable in part due to her not having had time to recover from the prior surgeries. She could never eat again and was sent home to die with a prognosis of a few days.

Due to his professional status and wealth, Ron was able to essentially take off and not think about work during any of this.

Debbie lived for several more weeks rather than a few days, several more chapters, spending time reviewing her life and that of her family, mourning what would not be, saying goodbye. She continued to live, however, it was as if she needed to stay for some reason. At length and with miraculous signs Denver learns supernaturally that he is to take over her ministry to the homeless. He is the man of whom she had dreamed before she even knew him. He ultimately accepts this and she passes on. They bury her on a hill at Rocky Top.

Ron took off some more time to travel with his family. Meanwhile, a new building at the homeless facility where they had worked was funded and erected in Debbie’s honor.

Reviewing the story so quickly seems to trivialize it but I don’t mean to do that. I only mean to set the framework for my question. If being so effective for God makes one an unprotected target for such an attack from Satan, who would want to enter such service? I know all the theological arguments about this. This is Job’s problem. Debbie wasn’t unprotected. Those with God always win, they go to heaven after all. But, Ron is more honest with his own feelings and imperfections. God is in the Dock with him. I admire Ron for admitting this, even in the book. Indeed, it was C.S. Lewis who figured out that God either is a masochist, or these sufferings must really be necessary. True, much good has come from Debbie’s untimely death (around 55) and true, I and probably thousands of others would not have had this example of faith without the drama brought on in this ultimate crises.

Still, everything else being the same, is this really necessary? Wouldn’t we rather have lives without all this suffering and death? Is it impossible or unlikely that good can result without it? Is this, as we experience it, really the best and right way? Broken creation indeed!

I admire Denver for his strength and integrity. He has done amazingly well with very little. He would certainly credit Jesus for all good in his life and this view must be respected. Denver knows good and bad far more intimately than I do or would hope to.

“Same Kind of Different As Me” brings back my own roots. I identify with the folks on both sides of the tracks. I am from one side and am honorary from the other. I’ve seen the brokenness of it all throughout life and have asked the questions consistently. What is interesting in the friendship of Ron and Denver is that neither views the other as something superior that they would want to become. Denver, in particular, is content as he is, and is growing from where he is through what God gives him. A thorough understanding of this would better underpin the intent of homeless ministries everywhere.