Ronda Rich

Syndicated Columnist

There is a disagreement that Tink and I have had a couple of times. Not an argument, mind you. But a half-joking, half-serious disagreement.

Upfront, know that it has to do with former Beatle, George Harrison, and his only child, son Dhani.

We’ll be listening to Beatles music or watching a documentary and the subject comes up.

The first time it happened was in front of a newspaper reporter, interviewing us for a new television drama about to premier that Tink had written.

“You’ve had an opportunity to work with impressive people,” the reporter stated.

Tink nodded. “I’ve been blessed. I’ve learned from the best.”

Somewhere in this thread of conversation, I inserted, “He even worked with George Harrison’s son, who scored the music for a series he did somewhat recently.

“Oh, yes,” Tink responded.

“Hawthorne. With the Smiths.”

I looked at him quizzically. “No, it wasn’t. It was the show you did with Tony Goldwyn.”

For two seconds, we disagreed.

Tink was absolutely adamant.

I quieted down. Nothing good comes from an argument in front of a reporter.

But when she and the photographer left, I picked up where we left off. Tink said firmly – something he rarely does – “I know that the Smiths (Will and Jada) introduced me to him. I’ll bet you.”

“There’s no need to bet. Look it up.”

Tink read the notes on his laptop. His face fell. “You’re right.”

You might think that was that… but it wasn’t. Three years later, it happened again while we were watching a Beatles documentary.

Same disagreement. Same conclusion.

“Why can’t I remember that?” he asked.

That’s just a story to lead into this one: When I was a young woman, barely out of college, and working on the NASCAR circuit, I was visiting at Darrell and Stevie Waltrip’s house. Darrell, somberly, told of a man who had approached him in the garage and said, “My name is Max Helton. I pastor a church in Florida but the Lord has sent me to start a ministry here.”

Darrell, skeptically but kindly, replied, “Well, there have been a few who tried that and it didn’t work.” I will add that a few, not all, were Elmer Gantry types.

Max explained it wasn’t his idea. It was God’s. And that he and his church had fasted and prayed so he was there to do the Lord’s commanding.

Against all of our better judgment, we took Max in. There were, as Max once recalled, a dozen of us who started Motor Racing Outreach. Little by little, Max proved himself worthy and honorable — so the group grew. I shall never forget the day, a year late,. when I looked up at the group, after we had just sung, “This Is The Day That The Lord Hath Made” and saw Dale Earnhardt in his racing suit. From that day forth, he was always there.

The years passed. Max, his personality as gentle and shimmering as his silver hair, won confidences and then began to move to build MROs on other racing circuits, including Formula One.

I had been out of the sport for years. I was standing at Richard Petty’s motor coach in Atlanta and talking with friends when Max popped up, clearly happy to see me.

“Ronda, could I speak to you for a moment?”

We walked away from the others and, grinning, he said, “Thanks to you, George Harrison found the Lord and now knows Jesus.”

My eyes popped. “Me??? I don’t even know George Harrison.” At that point, he was gravely ill, death lingering near.

Max, his blue eyes drilled into mine. “Because you helped start MRO — you made copies of papers we needed and did anything to help — your efforts made it possible for me to go to Monaco where I met George and witnessed to him. I prayed with him.”

Sadly, Harrison and Max are both gone from this world, but I love to think they’re together in a much better one.

Ronda Rich is the best-selling author of “St. Simons Island: A Stella Bankwell Mystery.” Visit www. rondarich.com to sign up for her free newsletter.