Fred Sartin was my mentor. He was in his 80s when I was a teenager. He affirmed my call to ministry, took me with him to fill pulpits across Mississippi, gave me books, and told me constantly that my life could be grand in the service of God.
I was only 15 when he convinced the District Superintendent that I should be the next pastor of the New Salem First Church of the Nazarene. He was a constant cheerleader.
Fred was an odd bird. He believed that car air conditioning used too much gas, so he disconnected his air conditioning. Mind you, we lived in sweltering Mississippi.
