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Chapter One
First Family: Understanding His Roots "A few generations back, there were
twin brothers who were orphans in France. As young teenagers eager to find a better life, they stowed away on a ship bound for America. One of them was my great-great grandfather. I remember the first time I flew into New York and
saw the Statue of Liberty. I thought of those twins, my ancestors, both of them fifteen or sixteen years old, standing there on Ellis Island. They had come to begin a new life. They didn't even know the language. And I wondered
what it felt like to them, years later, when they were eighty years old, with grandchildren, knowing that the dream of a better life had come true. I remember, too, the first time I ever saw the Lincoln Memorial. I
probably spent three or four hours sitting on the steps before I even went in to read the speeches. I'm not particularly patriotic, but that experience was just overwhelming. I don't know that the United States is God's Country,'
but the church has been so strong here, and because of its influence, we hold life to be sacred and we believe that individuals have dignity. This is part of our legacy. I thought of this when I stood before the Lincoln Memorial,
and when I saw the Statue of Liberty for the first time. Imagine the millions of people who have fled to America because of those very ideals. Somewhere back in my ancestry, from several different directions, people came to a
country that was totally new. If any of them had not done that, I never would have happened. At least, I would not be who I have become." Pursuing Our Legacy Think, for a moment, about your own lineage. Try to imagine
your ancestors, three generations back. See if you can picture them in your minds. What did they look like, where did they live, and what did they do? Do you think it is possible that they could even dream of your existence one day
in the future? What did they dream about? What hurt them? Did they ever fall in love? Thinking about these questions forces us to realize that our ancestors were real people. A part of Rich's spiritual journey, and one which had
a great effect on him, was the awareness of his own legacy. He was keenly interested in his own lineage, in the coming to America of his great-great grandparents, of his Irish-English-French heritage, and his father's Appalachian
upbringing. One of the first things we learn as children is our name. Our surname, and our mother's maiden name, become the dots through which we connect our past, discovering the names and dates, births and deaths, of those who
went before us and somehow led to our being. But the people who hang from the branches of our family tree are more than names. Rich became interested in who they were, what they dreamed about, how they lived and what they loved.
We carry in us the genes of a thousand men and women long gone. For many of us in America, those thousands of people came from other parts of the world. Even as a child Rich wanted to hear about these people. He said, "From when I
was real little, I heard stories about people from Holland, people from Ireland, people from France, wherever our family came from." Some of us trace our roots in the hopes that we will discover that one of our ancestors was a
King or a Queen, or perhaps a famous hero. Much of the quest is fueled by pride, but for Rich, the journey to find out where he came from actually humbled him:
What I discovered is, heritage doesn't puff you up with pride. It really humbles you. If you look at the lives of the people you have come from you kind of go, 'If they had married anyone else, if they had moved anywhere
else, if their lives had been one iota different, I wouldn't be here.' And so you have, not a big debt, not a crushing debt to pay, but you are part of an ongoing thing. You are not alone in the world. You are part of an
ensemble.
He discovered that his own life was really the product of an amazing process of endless decisions made over countless centuries. If just one of our ancestors had married a different person, or died before giving birth to the
next branch of the tree, we would not be here. This insight was very humbling for Rich. The Serendipity of Life Rich grew up in Indiana, in a small town near Richmond. Even how his family ended up there was, for Rich, a
serendipitous circumstance, an accident that would forever effect his life. He tells the story this way:
"My dad grew up back and forth between Kentucky and Virginia because his father was a coal miner. And when my dad was fourteen my grandpa came home and told my grandma to load up the truck 'cause they were gonna move. And
when they took off they were going the wrong way--she just assumed they were going back to Virginia--and they were headed somewhere else. So my grandma said, 'John, where in the world are we going?' And my grandpa said, 'Well,
Rose, we're going to Detroit.' And she said; 'Why in the world are we going to Detroit?' And he said, 'Because I don't want my boys to grow up to be coal miners.' And so they got as far as Indiana and ran out of gas--and that's
how I got here.
Not only are we dependent on the whims and choices of our ancestors in whom they choose to marry, even the place we call home often depends on something as simple as how full their tank of gas was. The whole process was,
for Rich, mystifying and humbling. Somehow in the midst of the myriad decisions of each moment, God orchestrates them in such a way that we came to be. Before the foundations of the earth were laid, the Scriptures tells us, God
foreknew our existence, even through happenstance of human choice (Eph. 1:4-5). What is passed down to us has an effect on us, and in a sense, determines much about our lives, even though we had no choice in the matter. Rich's
great-grandfather on his mother's side was a gifted man who was educated to be a doctor. But a series of events led him down a path into alcoholism. Unable to function as a doctor, he worked in different jobs, but sometimes
disappeared for weeks at a time, leaving his oldest son (Rich's grandfather) to take care of his family. Commenting on this, Rich said in an interview, "A legacy is something that is passed on to you that you have no control
over. I had no say in that my great-grandpa was an alcoholic. I have no say in the fact that my grandpa and grandma moved from Kentucky to Indiana. There are all these things that have shaped me and have some effect on me. There
are all kinds of things that are pushed on us and we have no say over, and they shape the way we see everything." We are dependent creatures, despite our insistence that we are self-made men and women. We like to think that we
determine our destiny, but in reality we have very little to with it. The people who raise us, our parents and our older siblings and our extended family, have a tremendous effect on who we become. The Bible is full of
genealogies. Though we may find them boring to read, and devotionally dry, they are there for a reason. The something we easily forget: that we are a part of an ongoing process, that we are dependent on others for our existence,
and that our identity is related to genealogy. The blood of our great-great-grandparents flows through our veins, and a part of them continues on in us. Mom & Dad Our ancestors may live on through us, but no one
influences our lives as much as our parents. Rich was born Richard Wayne Mullins, on October 21, 1955, to John and Neva Mullins, in a small town in Indiana, near Richmond. Though his first name is Richard, he went by the name of
Wayne until he went to college. In college he went by Richard, and then when he began his music career he shortened it to simply "Rich." He insisted, throughout his life, that his family still call him Wayne. Once when he went home
for a visit one of his nieces greeted him by saying, "Hi Uncle Rich," and he gently reprimanded her, saying, "My name is Wayne. When I am with you, my name is Wayne." It was his way of guarding his family identity, and connecting
him to his roots. Neva Mullins is a quiet and saintly woman who is revered by all who know her. She came from a long line of Quakers, a denomination which focuses on silence, simplicity, and non-violence. His father, John
Mullins, was well known for his hard work and honesty. Having grown up the son of an Appalachian coal miner, he learned quickly that life is difficult, and is not kind to the faint-hearted. He was raised in the Christian Church, a
denomination which focuses on the authority of the Bible, hymn singing, and weekly communion. Rich had a very close relationship with his mother. In her he saw many of the ideals he longed for. She was kind and
nurturing, and though very intelligent, she was not outspoken, almost never raised her voice, and never spoke an unkind word. Rich recalled how his mother was friendly toward a very strange woman. Rich said, "You know, I have a
great mom. It is just wild that this woman and my mom are friends. I asked, 'Do you ever feel weird around her?' and my mom said, 'Yeah, sure I do!' But here's the deal: No one was ever won into the kingdom of God through snobbery.
We come to know Christ through love. I really believe that." His mother's love won Rich into the Kingdom as well. And not just Rich, but all of his siblings attest to the power of her faith and commitment in their own lives. His
sister, Debbie Garrett, said, "She gave me birth, but she also gave me Life, life with God." Neva Mullins is reminiscent of St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, who, by her prayers and devotion to God won her children to the
faith. His mother's gentleness, and her desire to be holy, were two qualities that became a part of who Rich was. His father was a man who knew the value of hard work, as Rich would note in a song he wrote about his family. His
dad worked with his hands, molding steel and earth, spending the latter part of his career running a nursery, learning how to "make things grow out of Indiana clay. Rich had great admiration for his father, who grew up in difficult
circumstances. He was curious about his father's Appalachian upbringing, and labored to understand his father who was, on the surface, very different from him. He once said,
"My dad was an Appalachian, which is a very polite way to say that he was a hillbilly, and in junior high I was always embarrassed about my dad. He never dressed right, he never had a suit that fit him, and always had dirt
or grease under his fingernails. In my junior year of high school we went to a funeral in Kentucky where my dad had grown up. My dad, who wasn't a sentimental, gushy kind of guy, pulled off the road. We walked around for a bit,
and my dad said, 'This is all changed. Somewhere out here there was a swimming hole and a vine we used to swing out over the water on.' And I suddenly realized that my dad had been a kid once. At the time the most convicting
verse in the Bible was 'Honor your father and mother.' And I realize now that that verse means that if you cannot honor your father and mother then you can't honor anybody. Until you come to terms with your heritage you'll
never be at peace with yourself. That was a real breakthrough moment for me. So, what I needed to do was come to understand the Appalachian life, so that I could know more about my father, who had been a stranger to me all my
life."
It is a strange awakening to discover that our parents were once themselves children, that they were lonely and afraid and unsure of themselves. It helped Rich to realize that much of what he could not understand about his
father could be explained by looking at where he came from. It is a healthy moment in our lives when we realize that our parents are human beings. Rich admired his father, especially his work ethic and his honesty. Rich said, "My
dad was very honest about who he was. He was very honest about his weaknesses and strengths. He never pretended to be something he wasn't." If there is one quality that all of those who knew Rich would all agree was
evident in his life it is that: he was always honest. Sometimes Rich was painfully honest. He had a kind of courage that allowed him to be vulnerable. This quality he saw in his father, perhaps more than any another, became a very
real part of Rich. Both his mother and father taught him how to sacrifice for the good of others. After they discovered Rich's love for music, and obvious gifts, his father was the first to insist that he receive music lessons,
and he worked hard to pay for them. His mother also did whatever she could to make sure he got the necessary training. She once went without a coat one winter in order to be able to pay for his piano lessons. When asked about this
story, she replied in her typical fashion, "Well, I probably didn't need a coat that much." BOX QUOTE
"The family was ordained of God, that children might be trained up for himself. The family was before the Church, or rather, the first form of the Church" (Pope Leo XIII)
Rich would later say of his parents, "I think my parents were really smart parents. I think they were, actually, pretty progressive for the time. The one thing that they really wanted me to know is what makes me tick, what I am
about, how I approach life. And I think what my parents really wanted for me was for me to be who I am. I think a lot of parents hand people over a blueprint and say, 'This is how you're supposed to do it.' And my parents, I think,
kind of drew a picture and said, 'Here's the good stuff in life. How do you get there?" For his parents 40th wedding anniversary Rich wrote them a song. It is called, "First Family," and in it one can sense the appreciation he
had for his mother and father and the impact his early home life had on him.
First Family My folks they were always the first family to arrive Talk about your miracles I can still hear my dad cussin' And now they've raised five children John apparently liked the song very much, but one day turned to Neva and said, "How come you get to be described as the one making gourmet meals, and I am the one out cussing in the barn?" Neva replied, "The truth hurts, doesn't
it, honey?" As noted in the song, John and Neva Mullins raised five children, and lost one child, Brian, to spinal meningitis when he was only a few months old. Rich was only two at the time of Brian's death, but as he grew he
saw how "the pain didn't leave them crippled," and in fact, "the scars have made them strong." His parents, "just a plain man and his wife," gave him faith, and helped him navigate his way through life |
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