'Pain is inevitable, misery is optional'

Community mourns the death of David Duncan, founder of the Hot Dog Club ministry at Lake Wildwood

Macon’s David Duncan, who died on Sunday, never allowed his ongoing health problems to stop him from making a difference in the world. (Photo by Ed Grisamore)

I thought David Duncan was going to live forever.

He was like Batman, a superhero who managed to escape whenever he was in peril. Or Houdini breaking free of his chains inside the Chinese water torture cell.  Or quarterback Stetson Bennett eluding a giant defensive lineman trying to eat him for lunch.

David was a walking miracle, even if he did walk on two prosthetic legs.

When he died late Sunday afternoon, it was not because he ran out of luck but because God called him home. 

“I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith.’’ (2nd Timothy 4:7)

His heart gave out, the same heart he gave so freely to others. He devoted more than 50 years of his life to ministry. He was one of the kindest and most compassionate Christian servants I have ever known. 

Despite his ongoing health struggles, I never heard him complain.  He was a double amputee, having lost both legs to diabetes. In 1996, he received a pancreas and a kidney in a double organ transplant. Although it gave him a new lease on life, it also left him with a heavy heart. The transplanted organs came from a 12-year-old girl who died after being hit by a car.  "She took ballet. She was an honor student. She was an only child," he said when I first told his story. "The holidays are always reflective for me. There is a full chair at my table, but I know there is an empty place at the table somewhere else."

In more recent years, David had surgery on both eyes. Glaucoma robbed him of his sight in his right eye. He described the vision in his left eye as like staring out of a dark tunnel.

He refused to wave a white flag. Rather than shake an angry fist at the world, he embraced his calling. “I'm not going to fold up and die,’’ he once told me. “Pain is inevitable. Misery is optional."

So there was no R.S.V.P. to a pity party.  Instead, he wrote notes of encouragement, and sent texts and emails to lift the spirits of countless people. 

Once, after speaking to a Sunday School class at Forest Hills United Methodist Church, a man went up to him and said:  "You're the most 'unhandicapped' handicapped person I've ever met.’’

 “He looked at these kids, their parents and other adults we served as though he were looking through the eyes of Jesus.’’ (Photo by Ed Grisamore)

David was a joyful spirit, who was known for his colorful attire. He had his own cast of characters, from SpongeBob to Dr. Seuss to Cupid. He  once showed up at a young girl’s birthday party wearing a Shirley Temple wig and a tutu. When he was the children’s worship leader at Mabel White Baptist Church, he once led the children’s sermon wearing a baby bonnet, diaper and pacifier.

He grew up in South Carolina. His wife, Shirley, is from North Carolina. She is an American Indian from the Lumbee tribe who was raised at the Hephzibah Children's Home in Macon.

He met her in a Greek class at Central Wesleyan (S.C.) College, where he was a Bible major. He asked her if she liked Chinese food. 

After they married in 1980, David was working at a church in Wilmington, N.C. He and Shirley got custody of the three daughters of a family in the congregation after the man shot and killed his wife. The Duncans raised Jamie, Aimee and Halley, who in turn gave them a house filled with wonderful grandchildren.

At the time Shirley accepted a job at Hepzibah in 1989, David’s health was in a tailspin. Doctors told her to start preparing for her husband’s funeral. He lived for another 33 years and touched thousands of lives along the way. 

David will perhaps be best known for the Hot Dog Club, a ministry in Lake Wildwood that provides food, clothes, school supplies and spiritual nourishment to young people in that neighborhood.

It all started with a knock at the door in the spring of 2018.  It was a young boy who lived down the street.  He asked for a drink of water. 

The youngster came back the next day ... and the next. Then, one day, he brought his friends.  A few weeks later, David invited several neighborhood children to a hot dog supper on a Friday night. The Duncans served cold soft drinks and had cupcakes for dessert. David had a short devotional and Bible study.

Over time, he learned their names, where they lived and their family situations. They began to trust him. They shared their hopes, fears and dreams. They went to him with prayer requests.

The children became regulars at the Duncan home. They would drop by after school for a snack. After the Hot Dog Club on Fridays, they went home with donated food and snacks to get them through the weekend.

Donations have poured in from all over the country. The children now receive clothes, school supplies and personal items. And the program’s outreach has been extended to a wide assortment of people, including adults,  who are hurting, lonely and broken.

“He was a listener, and he would surprise kids with something he heard them say,’’ Shirley said. “He knew their likes and dislikes. He listened to the adults we serve. He was forever looking for a certain pair of shoes, a jacket or a tent for those who were homeless or living in a car or sleeping in a tent.”

Last Friday, when folks arrived at the Duncan’s house and learned he was  hospitalized in critical condition, the ground was watered by the tears at their feet.

“Mr. David has to get better,’’ they all told Shirley. “He has always treated me like I was somebody.’’

The Hot Dog Club’s annual Christmas party will be held Friday at New Heights Church on Lamar Road. Shirley has promised the club will continue to meet, even without its spiritual leader.

 “He looked at these kids, their parents and other adults we served as though he were looking through the eyes of Jesus.’’

My wife, Delinda, and I with David and Shirley Duncan at the Hot Dog Club in June. The club celebrated its fourth anniversary this summer.