Just As I Am: The Autobiography of Billy Graham

by Billy Graham

  I can never think about our Minneapolis office without thinking of George and Helen Wilson. George helped build efficiency into our infant organization from the start. He never made a major move without proper authorization, keeping me fully informed of our activities, checking with me on every hiring development, even getting my approval for expenditures that I sometimes thought were trifling. As the Crusades increased in number and size, and as our radio and television ministries expanded and our mailing list grew, the Minne-apolis office became indispensable. It also freed me from negotiations with local committees about Crusade accounting procedures and budgets; all of that, George took over.

  In 1951—the BGEA’s first full year of operation—we received 180,000 letters. By 1954 we were forced to hire about eighty employees to handle mail and take care of other administrative duties. Soon we purchased an aging office building in downtown Minneapolis, formerly used by the Standard Oil Company. In addition, we opened small offices in a number of foreign countries to handle film distribution, publications, foreign language editions of Decision magazine, and other evangelistic outreaches. At one time, we had offices in such diverse places as Hong Kong, Paris, London, Buenos Aires, Mexico City, Berlin, and Sydney. All of those were eventually closed as the need for them lessened. We had a thousand employees scattered among our various offices; now we are down to about five hundred full-time employees. We still maintain an office in Winnipeg for our many Canadian supporters and friends.

  Admittedly, our first few years were rather informal organizationally. Often George and I would make major decisions just talking in the hallway for a few minutes whenever I was in town. We were flying by the seat of our pants, uncertain what the future held and not having any pattern to follow. No evangelist before us, for example, had ever faced the problem of getting organized to answer mail on such a scale. But we were constantly trying to keep pace with the opportunities God was opening up for us, and we were determined to maintain the strictest standards of integrity and accountability, in line with the commitments we had made several years before in Modesto.

  George became a self-taught expert on office efficiency. In-deed, the Wall Street Journal once ran a story on the innovations he introduced to answer our mail and minimize our administrative expenses. At times he could be stubborn and determined. More than once I lost patience with him—and he with me, I suspect! But no one was more loyal or more committed to our ministry.

  When George retired, Dr. John Corts was appointed by our board to replace him. John had been with BGEA for a number of years, involved in a wide range of responsibilities. After several years as president of a Christian college in Florida, he returned to oversee our Minneapolis office. His skills and ability to encourage those who work with him have been invaluable.

  We have always refused, after holding a Crusade in a city, to allow our name to be used to perpetuate any local organizations or movements. Sometimes, for instance, ushers or counselors have wanted to form a permanent organization under the Graham name. That response is gratifying testimony to the fellowship they have discovered, and we’re thankful for it, but we have consistently refused to allow any continuing organization to be formed using our name. Our complete support goes to the local churches that have invited us to come.

  Much of my time over the years has actually been spent on organizational matters. Hardly a day passes that I’m not talking on the telephone or handling correspondence or meeting in conference about an administrative matter or a decision that can’t be made by anyone else. Yes, at times I chafe under the load and yearn for the simpler days when our organization consisted of little more than a secretary or two. Because my heart is in the preaching, the ceaseless pressure of running a large organization can be oppressive.

  The key has been our Team—a faithful and gifted staff that has carried the greatest part of the burden and relieved me of all but the most pressing administrative decisions and duties.

  39

  A Half-Century of Friends

  From Death Row to Buckingham Palace

  “Velma, you’re going to beat us home. Tomorrow night you’ll be in the arms of Jesus,” I said to her on my home telephone just hours before her execution by lethal injection.

  “Praise the Lord!” she replied with confidence in her voice.

  Velma Barfield had become addicted to drugs and, by her own admission, had poisoned four people—including her mother—in cold blood. Now, after living on Death Row for six years while waiting for the legal system to exhaust all her appeals, she was about to become the first woman to be executed in the United States in twenty years.

  We had never met in person, but she certainly was no stranger. For some time, Ruth had carried on a correspondence with her and talked with her over the telephone. Our daughter Anne visited her often in prison near Raleigh, North Carolina, praying with her and leading her in Bible studies. At Velma’s request, Anne would witness her execution.

  Velma turned in faith to Christ for forgiveness and became a vibrant, committed Christian shortly after her arrest. Her sins, she firmly believed, were completely forgiven by God. All that was left for her to do was to pay society’s ultimate price.

  She did not take what she had done lightly; she had committed horrible crimes, and she knew it. Nor did she take God’s forgiveness lightly, for it had cost Christ His life on the Cross. Yet through that death, she knew, God had demonstrated His love for sinners—even for a wretched sinner like herself.

  “If I had the choice of living free on the outside [of prison] without my Lord, or living on Death Row with Him,” she told Anne repeatedly, “I would choose Death Row.”

  Just a few months before her last day, Velma finished writing, at Ruth’s urging, the story of her tragic life, a life filled with turmoil, drugs, anger, depression, violence, and—finally—the grace of God.

  “I want my story told because I hope it will help people understand what God can do in the life of one loathsome and desperate human being,” she wrote. “I understand what the Apostle [Paul] meant when he called himself the chief of sinners.”

  “God has turned your cell on Death Row into a most unusual pulpit,” Ruth wrote her. “There are people who will listen to what you have to say because of where you are. As long as God has a ministry for you here, He will keep you here.”

  As I picked up my phone in Montreat to talk with her that last day of her life, I made sure my Bible was open before me on my desk. I knew she would want me to read some passages to her.

  The next day she went peacefully to her death, her lips moving in silent prayer.

  A month later, Anne and I slipped into the North Carolina Correctional Institute for Women for a special service. Virtually all the guards and inmates were present. I preached from John 3:16, pointing to the life of Velma Barfield as an example of what God can do in the life of a person who is committed to Christ. Prison, I told them, was one of the hardest places on earth to live as a Christian. A person’s life is under constant scrutiny, and many inmates are cynical about supposed religious conversions. But Velma had demonstrated the reality of Christ through her life, and everyone present at that service knew it.

  When I gave the Invitation, 200 responded, including several guards.

  While there, I also went to the cell where Velma had been held in maximum security before her execution. “You know, since Velma’s death, I just couldn’t bring myself to come in here,” the warden told me. “On the night of her execution, she was the happiest, the most radiant human being I ever met.”

  Why do I begin this chapter on a half-century of friends with the story of Velma Barfield?

  One reason is that her life exemplified a central theme of the Christian faith: God’s forgiveness in Christ is available to all, no matter who we are or what we have done.

  Another reason is to emphasize that most of my ministry has not been spent with famous people, whether in the entertainment field or the financial or political arenas. Over the years, I
have met so many of the rich and famous in many countries that it’s impossible to mention—or even remember—them all. But presidents and royalty aren’t typical of the people I’ve had contact with. Velma isn’t typical either, to be sure. Still, 98 percent of my time has been spent with people who were never in the public eye.

  Frankly, I’m reluctant to speak about the other 2 percent. I don’t want to be accused of name-dropping. But I have crossed paths with a wide spectrum of leaders from all kinds of fields—politics, religion, business, education, entertainment, sports. Richard Nixon once told an interviewer that I knew more international leaders than he did.

  I did not know whether that was accurate at the time, but it was probably inevitable that people came to that conclusion. Whenever I played golf with a president or visited with a prime minister or was seen with a leading entertainer or sports figure, the media paid attention. In reality, though, very little of my total time has been spent with such people. It may sound impressive to say that we have been with Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on a dozen different occasions—but those twelve occasions have been spread over forty years.

  If I seem to concentrate on some of those friendships, it is only because I have come to know some of these leaders in a pastoral way and others simply as friends. Although people who are constantly in the public eye usually learn to shield their inner thoughts, they have the same personal problems and questions that we do. Sometimes such people have felt free to talk intimately with me, knowing that I would hold their remarks in confidence. Some of them have had serious character flaws; and when I have been aware of these, I have tried to do what I could, speaking to them privately and pastorally from the standpoint of the Bible’s moral standards.

  If some readers of these pages are disappointed that I have not titillated them with juicy tidbits of inside gossip, so be it. Even when the pressure has been great to reveal what went on in a private meeting, I have tried to answer only in the most general terms.

  After leaving a session once with Cardinal Lustiger, the Archbishop of Paris, a reporter demanded to know what we had talked about. I replied that he could assume we had talked about religion. In spite of his insistence, that was all he could get out of me. The Bible is clear: “Do not betray another man’s confidence” (Proverbs 25:9).

  I never go to see important people—or anyone else—without having the deep realization that I am—first and foremost—an ambassador of the King of kings and Lord of lords. From the moment I enter the room, I am thinking about how I can get the conversation around to the Gospel. We may discuss a dozen peripheral things first, but I am always thinking of ways I can share Christ and His message of hope with them. I make every effort to be sensitive to their position and their viewpoint, but I rarely leave without attempting to explain the meaning of the Gospel unless God clearly indicates to me that it is not the right time for this person. No one has ever rebuffed me or refused to listen to me.

  One time, fairly early in my ministry, I did not do that. The businessman I was visiting had great influence. Perhaps he intimidated me, or perhaps I was concerned that I would alienate him if I appeared to be too religious. At any rate, I said little or nothing about Jesus Christ. Afterward I was so disappointed in myself that I went back to my hotel room and fell on my knees, praying that God would forgive me. I begged Him for another chance, but I had absolutely no reason to expect that our paths would cross again.

  Unexpectedly, a couple of weeks later, that businessman asked to see me. In the course of the conversation, I had a very natural opportunity to present a clear-cut Gospel witness. The whole incident made me resolve never again to be hesitant about sharing my faith in Christ with anyone.

  What have I learned from my contacts with people who are leaders in their respective fields, from politics and entertainment to sports and business?

  Five things come to mind.

  First, leadership has its own set of special burdens and pressures. The life of a celebrated star or a powerful politician may seem glamorous and exciting, but in reality it seldom is.

  From 1955 to 1960, I met with several dozen heads of state, from the prime minister of Japan to the prime minister of Israel. (In fact, in connection with our international ministry, I have continued to meet a wide spectrum of leaders over the years, including virtually every prime minister of Japan and chancellor of Germany.) Almost without exception, they were deeply pessimistic about the future of the world and heavily burdened by their political responsibilities.

  Several years ago, I was talking to one prominent leader who, I suddenly discovered, was on the verge of suicide because he was so discouraged about the world and the circumstances he faced. I tried to comfort him and point him beyond his problems to God, and he seemed to find some hope in that message.

  Second, leadership can be very lonely. Many years ago, I was at a White House dinner honoring the shah of Iran. As I went through the receiving line, he greeted me warmly and asked me to visit him in Iran. Following our meetings in Nagaland, India, in 1972, we let him know that we would be stopping over in Tehran. He invited me to join him for dinner during that stopover. When I arrived, he was sitting all alone in a large room watching a videotape of the previous night’s news from the United States. As he turned the TV off, I could see the loneliness and isolation etched in his face.

  In the 1950s, when I was in New York City, I would occasionally slip by to visit Dag Hammarskjöld, secretary-general of the United Nations, and have prayer with him. He was a very thoughtful, if lonely, man who was trying to make a difference for world peace, in large part because of his Christian convictions.

  Third, people in positions of influence are often used by others for their own selfish ends. As a result, they learn to be on their guard. It happens all the time. But I have often deliberately gone out of my way to avoid giving the impression that I wanted to meet someone because of what he or she could do for me.

  This has especially been true of the business leaders I have gotten to know. One night I was the houseguest of Ross Perot, the billionaire industrialist. He was a member of Highland Park Presbyterian Church in Dallas, which my brother-in-law, Clayton Bell, pastors. I found him to be one of the smartest men I had ever met.

  “Ross,” I said as we chatted, “I want to get something straight right now. I’ll never ask you for one dime of money. I want our friendship just to be between you and me, and no money involved.”

  “You know,” he replied, “I’ve never had anybody say that to me. They’re all coming here wanting money!”

  Another extremely wealthy Texan I came to know fairly well was oil billionaire H. L. Hunt. From time to time he made a point of offering to support any special projects we might have. But he had a different set of priorities from mine. When plans for our pavilion at the New York World’s Fair were taking shape, I showed them to him.

  “Mr. Hunt,” I said, “this would be a good time for you to invest in the kingdom of God.”

  “Why don’t you have something against Communism up there instead?” he asked. “I’d pay for that.”

  “No,” I replied, “this is just going to be pro-Gospel. We’re just going to preach the Gospel in this exhibit.”

  He was disappointed and never gave us anything toward the project.

  Fourth, people in the public eye are often looked upon as role models, even when they do not want to be seen in that way.

  Once a prominent media personality and I were at a hotel in West Virginia together. We had been friends for years, but at the time of this meeting he was, in his words, at a crossroads. As he recounted later, “I was on the edge of messing up my personal life.” Part of his problem was that he was rebelling against the idea of being a leader and an example to others. “I don’t want to be a leader,” he exclaimed repeatedly.

  “Well,” I told him finally, “it doesn’t make any difference whether you want to be a leader or not. You are a leader. Now all we’re going to do between now and daybreak is dec
ide whether you’re going to be a good one or a bad one.”

  As we talked and prayed, he yielded his will to Christ in a fresh way.

  A nationally known television talk-show host once approached me about making a regular appearance on his program. Shortly afterward, on his show, he asked me a direct question about sexual morality. I answered from the Bible as graciously but clearly as I could. Later I discovered that he was involved in an extramarital affair at the time. He never invited me back.

  Sports and entertainment figures especially are seen as role models in our society. Athletes like tennis star Michael Chang, professional golfers Gary Player and Bernhard Langer, and football coach Tom Landry have taken a stand for Christ. They and many others have become friends of mine over the years, and they have been involved in our Crusades and our satellite television mission projects to various parts of the world.

  When Muhammad Ali, the heavyweight boxing champion, came to visit us in Montreat, he couldn’t get over the fact that we did not live in a mansion with liveried servants and a chauffeur. He was also surprised when I met him at the airport in my ten-year-old Oldsmobile.

  I autographed a Bible for him. He accepted it graciously, but when he looked at my unreadable scrawl, he asked T.W., “What does that say?”

  “It says God Bless You , and it’s signed Billy Graham. ”

  Ali handed the book back to me.

  “How about printing Billy Graham under that. I want people to know it’s you when I show it to them!”

  I laughed and printed my name in big letters.

  One entertainment personality whose friendship Ruth and I have particularly valued is country music singer Johnny Cash, along with his wife, June Carter Cash. Johnny has won just about every award in his field, and his distinctive voice is loved by millions around the world. Some years ago, Johnny and June began coming to our Crusades to sing, and their presence and witness to Christ have drawn countless people to meetings who might not otherwise have come.