A Vietnam veteran given five weeks to live has spent the past year traveling the country with a horse and buggy. Rodger Howell was traveling through the Charlotte area on his way up north in October, but after a rear-end collision with a semi left his carriage in pieces along the highway, those plans took a detour.
Instead, the recovering veteran has spent most December nights at the Billy Graham Library, offering visitors rides in a horse-drawn carriage for Christmas at the Library.
“I tell them, ‘To ride in my carriage, you have to sing,’” Howell said matter-of-factly. “‘I don’t care if you sound good or not, you have to sing.’”
He’s met fellow veterans, encouraged strangers and given people hope to keep going.
But his outlook wasn’t always so cheerful. As a tank commander in Vietnam and after 24 years in law enforcement—ending his career as police chief in Erin, Tennessee—Howell had seen the worst of people. He saw horrific abuse, violence and pure hate.
In July 2013, following heart and kidney problems stemming from exposure to Agent Orange in the military, doctors gave Howell five weeks to live. Whatever Howell couldn’t sell or give away, he burned in the backyard.
“On August 5 (2013), I left on my trip,” he said in his low, measured voice. “I was going to go see my grandkids and kids in Michigan. I was kind of figuring on dying on the way. I didn’t want to die on my front porch.”
He made it to Michigan, stayed for a while, then headed back south to see his mother in Tennessee.
Five weeks to live has turned into 17 months. And counting.
Howell, 63, flips through a thick binder full of pictures from his travels. He can point to anyone in a photo and tell you how and where they met. There are pictures of a school for handicapped children where Howell donated an old buggy. There are pictures of church members who invited him to visit and even a smiling, tattooed gang member atop one of his horses in Flagler Beach, Florida.
There’s also a picture with two of his brothers at Tiger Stadium in Detroit last year—the first time they were together in 30 years, except for a funeral. He has pictures of his foster children and from his most recent stop at the Billy Graham Library.
“I’ve seen the best of human nature on this trip,” Howell said. “This trip has showed me the graciousness, the beauty and the power of God.”
Wearing a dark green jacket, black and gold Vietnam veteran hat, and dirty cowboy boots, he said he’s traveled about 3,600 miles. He and his two Percheron draft horses, Dancer and Sonny, along with his border collie, Banjo, have weathered two tornadoes and a blizzard, and found themselves last Christmas crossing the Ohio River on a ferry following area flooding.
But with all the tricky navigation, he said his 84-year-old mother is most proud of his stint at the Library. He recently sent her a picture of him in his Christmas at the Library attire—complete with a black top hat to make her proud. Both mother and son have a deep respect for Mr. Graham and his humility.
It’s the same humility Howell demonstrates to everyone he meets.
“I’m a nobody, and I like being a nobody,” he said.
While dozens of newspaper articles, TV news stories and radio mentions about Howell’s impact on community after community beg to differ, the white-bearded farrier insists he’s perpetually passing through.
“When we leave this earth, it doesn’t matter how much you’ve got, and I had everything. It’s what you leave behind,” he said.
Howell knows firsthand the detriment of putting work before family and has had opportunities on the road to encourage people to make family a priority. With others, he’s able to share how God has gotten him through the obstacles he’s faced on the road. Sometimes people ask him to pray with them.
The mild-mannered veteran has met people from all faiths, races and walks of life. People pass him on the road, turn around and chase him down to talk. Others offer him a place to stay or to rest his horses. He’ll stop at a McDonald’s and park his carriage out front only to find a crowd gathered when he gets back outside—and inevitably someone who wants to feed Banjo a hamburger.
Back in October, as Howell drove down a clear, straight segment of Highway 601 near Monroe, North Carolina, a tractor trailer ran into the back of his buggy, leaving splintered wood and debris everywhere. Howell, both of his horses and his dog all survived, as well as a sign he had that read “God is my pilot.”
Bridger Medlin, owner of Southern Breezes Carriages, lives a few miles from the accident and had met Howell a week before. He took in the animals and offered Howell a place to stay. Medlin, who runs the carriage rides during Christmas at the Library, then asked Howell if he’d want to drive a carriage during Christmas at the Library.
Howell will continue his journey sometime after Christmas, but isn’t in a hurry. Next on his itinerary is Niagara Falls to get a picture with his horses. Not because it’s Niagara Falls, but “because everybody said (the trip) was impossible.”
But he’s always open to detours.
Like many before her, a woman in Ocala, Florida, once stopped Howell along his route to ask where he was going.
“Down the road,” he answered.
She asked where he came from.
“Up the road,” he replied.
So when will his journey end? That’s up to God.
“I won’t never be done ’til He calls me,” he said.
