Larry Church

As I sit grasping my coffee and staring at a blank page I would normally find myself with "writer's block'; however, today my mind is filled with the worry of how to fit a man's life into a few short paragraphs. I fear it is not possible in this circumstance, and certainly not fifty words or less. Especially for such a character as Larry Church.

Cowboy Larry Church left this life on September 19, 2016 the same way he came in-fighting.
Cowboy was born to a Cherokee squaw named Hummingbird in 1949 and it was said she loved her little spirited hummingbird dearly. When he was just a little guy, not even two, his mother died in child birth and his father ran off with an unknown woman leaving little Larry to fend for himself. Fend for himself he did, being raised in an orphanage, and eventually he grew into a rough and tough literal cowboy.

When he was of age, he signed into the United States Army and was sent to Vietnam where he continued his fight for survival. Upon return from Vietnam he was so disgusted by the way he and his fellows were treated by the Americans he thought he was protecting that he shunned the government for a time. He went to Arkansas where he began herding cattle on horseback between Arkansas, Montana and Wyoming.

At times when he was not herding he was a rodeo bull rider and became friends with a rodeo clown named Shorty Manville who was famous for the Madison Square Garden Rodeo Circuit. Cowboy described Shorty as, "colorful in his own right, walked with a cane from all the tumbles in his rodeo days, wore coke bottle glasses, a ten gallon hat and a foot long cigar." Shorty and Cowboy were great friends and Shorty helped Cowboy recover when a bull broke his back during one fateful bad ride.

His rodeo career over, and long days and nights in the saddle took its toll and he eventually became a truck driver. Cowboy always had a knack for drawing fate, and as fate would have it, he began driving for Merle Haggard. They became good friends and it is said one night they stopped for respite at a local "watering hole". Inside was a "sing off" similar to a karaoke night we now know of. Haggard began to sing and there became whispers about the place, "Wow, that guy sounds just like Merle Haggard." The cat was never let out of the bag. Cowboy, having found Jesus many years before, preached persistently to Haggard and eventually led him to accept Christ.

He had a way with his ministering and shared God's message everywhere he went, every chance he got (which was pretty much every time he opened his mouth). More recently, I witnessed something I must share (he would be quite embarrassed but that matters not now. For those that know him, you will fully understand). While lying in his hospital bed, a beautiful, very smartly dressed woman entered the room and Cowboy continually commented on how blessed he was to have such beautiful women caring for him. So much so that neither she nor I could get a word in edge wise. Finally, I interrupted and asked whom she was. She gave her name and said she was with the Chaplain Services. Cowboy's face, which had been ashen for days, turned bright Native red and she and I laughed loudly when I told him he had been flirting with the chaplain. When she asked how many souls he had saved he began to tell her about his Cowboy Church ministry for troubled children years ago and we had a service right there in that room that everyone could hear.

Cowboy was also a professional spur craftsman. In 1968 he trained under the scrutiny of D. Boone, an Oklahoma spur maker. He then grew to making spurs for movie sets such as those worn by Tom Selleck in the movie Quigley Down Under. He is also known for other craftsmanship such as saddles and knives he made from "scratch" or more often "scrap". I observed him many times take a piece of steel from a scrap yard, cut and hone it into a beautiful piece of artwork. In 1987 he made 8 known pairs of spurs in Montana until his shop was burned out reportedly "simply because he was a Cherokee Indian."

Cowboy eventually made his way to his sister, Joyce, in Arkansas, about 20 years ago and lived out his days trading and caring for his many fur babies. He is preceded in death by his love Drifter, his faithful dog of many years who could smell a thief from a mile away.

As for summing up his life, we can never fully do that here; yet I will add his own words from years ago (circa 1990) as recorded by his sister:

There are many stories attached to this history from the Cherokee Orphanage from which he ‘escaped' at five with his brother (presumably another orphan) who was seven at the time. It was a three day journey for two little boys over the Cookson hills which was the beginning of his unusual life to present day. The stories are many and all of which could never be told. What I found personally is he talks with a loud voice (being totally deaf in one ear), a great lover of animals, old pick-up trucks, faded old blue jeans, camp fires and old black cowboy hats. A simple man talented in his simple lifestyle to fix anything with a piece of binder twine or bailing wire. A weathered face and a deep discerning spirit. A heart to be there for anyone that needs a hand. One of the last of the true God service, God fearing cowboys.

In the last day of his Earthly life, Cowboy was adamant to fulfill four promises: 1) to have a good, hearty meal with Bob and Joyce at his favorite restaurant, the Golden Corral; 2) give a personally made knife to his dear friend Jeannie Gibby; 3) give a promised box of "good" bacon to Jeff Stracener; and 4) spend one more night with his beloved dogs Jake and Lily.

When he returned to hospital, he fought to the end. He did not give up on living but wasn't afraid to die either. He fought off two doses of morphine and additional Ativan to stay awake and alert until he was surrounded by his below mentioned family and dear friend so he could tell each one of us, one by one how much he loved us and he was ready to stand next to Jesus whom he was adamant he saw standing at the foot of the bed.

Cowboy is preceded in death by his mother, Hummingbird and infant brother; and survived by his sister in Jesus, Joyce (Bob) Harris, niece Syndi and great niece Audrey, and many fur babies, especially Jake and Lily; two mules, a donkey and a mare horse. They were all his true loves. He also has some dear friends, especially Jeannie Gibby whom he loved dearly as he loved everyone despite his rough, gruff exterior.

He also had a strong appreciation and gratitude for Dr. Gregory Bienvenu who was with him through the final moments as well and the entirety of the Baptist Springhill staff, including the Dialysis Unit and ICU staff who cared for him. He continually offered his appreciation for how tenderly he was treated and for that we thank you, although thank you will never be enough for your compassion.

There will be no formal funeral, as you can tell, that wasn't Cowboy's way. We will, however, have a campfire and make "Larry Burgers" and tell Cowboy stories when we are able to stop the tears long enough to get it together.

We ask that, in lieu of flowers, that donations be made to Drive Away Cancer, 1102 Abercorn Place, Sherwood, AR 72120 in Cowboy's name. He loved the children, especially Emma from Texas, and this is a way to carry on his legacy in helping the kids.

We have also set up a Facebook page to continue telling the many Cowboy Larry stories that were too long to add here. https://www.facebook.com/CowboyLarryChurch/

Larry's online guestbook may be signed at www.littlerockfuneralhome.com.