Grandpa Bigger’s Walmart Story

Bob and Bonnie Bigger Claire Luther

Bob and Bonnie Bigger and 
Claire Luther (Great Granddaughter)-2005

When Cathy and I moved to Fayetteville, Arkansas in 2000 after our 8 month sojourn to Largo, Florida, we were thrilled to be back in Arkansas for several reasons. First I was not a good fit for the medical clinic at the First Baptist Church of Indian Rocks which I helped open and direct, and secondly we were coming back to our home state where our children lived.

In Florida we found ourselves isolated from our children and grandchildren, and the separation anxiety proved to be greater than anticipated. I was blessed to quickly find a medical position as one of the directors of the Wound Care Clinic at Washington Regional Medical Center, and Cathy and I were able to purchase a beautiful new home within a few miles of our daughter Ginny and her husband John Luther.

After becoming established as residents in northwest Arkansas we discovered an unusual thing about this part of our beloved state; a large number of people had a Walmart story. In the past I had not paid much attention to the meteoric rise of the corporate giant, but as new residents we saw so much of the economy of northwest Arkansas which was Walmart driven. There were rags to riches tales in which individuals had purchased original Walmart stock before the company went public, and their investment made them wealthy. Other stories involved missed opportunities. The best story I ever heard came from a family member, although extended family, and it was one I had not heard prior to our move to Fayetteville.

John Luther is blessed by the fact he and his brother James grew up under the direct Godly influence of both sets of grandparents who lived in the Fayetteville area. I have written about the spiritual impact Fay and Frances Luther, his paternal grandparents had on everyone including Cathy and me. Bob and Bonnie Bigger, his maternal grandparents were also spiritual giants in our opinion. We had such an affection for them we called them Grandpa and Grandma Bigger as a measure of our love and respect.

Bob worked for years for Southwestern Electric Power Company in Fayetteville (SWEPCO). He retired from the company following forty-two years of faithful service; first as a lineman and later in supervisory positions. I have heard him tell stories of being called out at all hours of the night to help restore lost power from storms, accidents and extreme icy conditions. There were times he would be separated from home and family for extended days and even weeks until full power was restored to all SWEPCO customers. He said his work was never routine or dull, and the conditions under which he worked could be very risky and often uncomfortable, weather-wise.

Shortly after our move to the area Grandpa told his Walmart story at the urging of John Luther. Back in the early 1950’s while Grandpa was working as a lineman he had a routine of having coffee with a group of friends every Tuesday when he wasn’t out-of-town because of work responsibilities. The men had some common interests such as raising cattle, but in general had just been friends for years. One of the men whom they called “Mr. Sam” in addition to enjoying talking cattle had a business of several Ben Franklin Stores.

One day following coffee Mr. Sam approached Grandpa and said he was making plans to incorporate his retail business, and needed a total of $250,000 to  finance the transaction. He was seeking a total of ten investors to put up $25,000 each and had found nine men already. There was one option left, and he was offering it to Bob. Bob said he told him, “Mr. Sam, you know I have an ordinary job with SWEPCO, and with a wife and two young children, we don’t have that kind of money in savings.” Mr. Sam told him he understood, but if he would borrow the money from his bank, he (Mr. Sam) would co-sign the note. Grandpa told him he needed to discuss the proposition with his wife. They would pray about it, and he would give him an answer the following week. Mr. Sam told him there was no pressure, because if he didn’t want the option, there was another man who was a manager of one of his stores who wanted the option.

The following week Grandpa told Mr. Sam he and Bonnie had prayed about it and were at peace this investment was not the thing for them to do. He and Mr. Sam shook hands, and Mr. Sam told him he understood completely. Mr. Sam was Sam Walton and the ten initial investors did extremely well financially with their $25,000 investment into what became Walmart Corporation!

The manager who took Grandpa’s option was Charlie Baum. Fast forward forty years and Mr. Baum had done so well with his investments he was able to donate over two million dollars to the University of Arkansas to help fund the building of Bud Walton Arena for basketball and the new baseball stadium for the Razorbacks which was named Baum Razorback Stadium. At his death in the 1990’s Mr. Baum’s estate was reported to be valued in excess of $100 million dollars.

When Grandpa told his story I said, “Grandpa, if you had only borrowed the money we would not have to struggle to get Razorback baseball tickets, but would be sitting in an air-conditioned box in Bigger Stadium and would be riding to the stadium in a chauffeured limousine instead of your pickup truck! Don’t you wish you had the chance again to purchase the stock?” He chuckled when he replied in his usual humble manner, “No, I’m not sorry at all Momma and I didn’t borrow the money. God has taken good care of us. We were able to pay our bills and didn’t have want for anything. If we had that kind of money we might have had more problems than we could have handled.”

Every time I tell this story and consider his honest reply to my questions I ask the Lord to give me a grateful heart and humble like Grandpa Bigger. He was thankful to God for things given him which were good, but also thankful for things which were withheld because they might have harmed. His Walmart story reminds me of God’s promise; Our God shall supply all of our needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. (Phil. 4:19)

Dr. John


Mistaken For An Evangelist

Brother Bill Stafford

Brother Bill Stafford

In the mid-1980’s large evangelism conferences across the South were beginning to achieve popularity. It was not uncommon to see advertisements each week in the Arkansas Baptist News, the Baptist state convention paper inviting people to attend such conferences in nearby cities such as Little Rock, Shreveport, or Dallas. These meetings would feature some of the best known preachers in the area and not infrequently outstanding nationally known preachers.

Cathy and I had become friends with Evangelist Bill Stafford from Chattanooga as a result of some circumstances of which I have previously written. I was a member of his audio tape of the month club, and at the end of each tape he always gave his preaching schedule for the following two months. I loved his preaching and enjoyed his friendship so much that whenever he was preaching a meeting within a few hours of El Dorado, I would try to arrange my schedule to attend an evening meeting. On this particular occasion he announced he had been invited to preach in a Bible conference in Euless, Texas at The First Baptist Church. The conference was to begin on a Friday night and continue through most of the day on Saturday. I was definitely interested when I heard his announcement.

Shortly thereafter I read more details concerning the conference in the Arkansas Baptist News and was able to not only register for the meeting, but get the names of several prospective motels to call for reservations. Two other men expressed interest in the conference, so my good friend and co-Sunday school teacher Bob Watson and our pastor Mark Coppenger made plans to attend together. I called Brother Bill to tell him we were coming, and we made arrangements to have breakfast together on Saturday morning.

In addition to Brother Bill preaching which would have been enough for me, several other well-known preachers I remember speaking were Charles Stanley, Jerry Falwell, Ron Dunn, Bailey Smith and Jimmy Draper, the pastor of First Baptist Euless. That was an all-star lineup of preachers, and there were several others whom I don’t recall.

Pastor Mark, Bob and I drove the six and one half hours from El Dorado to Euless and arrived in time to attend the evening meeting of preaching. The atmosphere was more exciting than I had anticipated, and the church was packed. Brother Bill was scheduled to preach, and he preceded Charles Stanley. I don’t recall any details of their sermons but they were outstanding and were punctuated with large numbers of amens and occasional appropriate applause. There was at least one other speaker the first evening and it was Ron Dunn.

The following morning the three of us were able to meet Brother Bill for breakfast at a nearby restaurant, and he was accompanied by his son, Bill III who was a student at Criswell Bible College in Dallas. I had heard about young Bill from his Dad but had never met him. His personal testimony of deliverance from a life of drug and alcohol abuse to surrender to the ministry was very inspiring, and I had heard Brother Bill tearfully recount some of the details on several occasions. We were not able spend much time with the Stafford’s because the conference was to begin at 9 A.M. and Brother Bill was scheduled to speak again before the lunch break.

We arrived at the church about twenty minutes before the opening of the Saturday session, and for a short period I was separated from Mark and Bob. I wanted to walk around the beautiful church facility, and see if there was anyone I knew attending the conference. An older gentleman approached me in a manner which made me suspect I might have met him before. He reached out to shake my hand and said his name and the name of the church he pastored somewhere in west Texas. When he spoke I knew I had never met him. Then he said, “Brother Bill, your sermon last night was such a blessing to me.” He thought I was Bill Stafford! I knew if I corrected his error it would have embarrassed him greatly, but I didn’t want to carry the deception too far. Fortunately some other men told him they needed to be seated and he needed to join them. As he was leaving I said to him, “Brother, thanks for your encouragement. I’m glad you were blessed!”

I didn’t see Brother Bill again before we had to leave Euless, but couldn’t wait to tell him the account of  meeting the west Texas preacher. When I called him at his home in Chattanooga a few days later I had fun giving him my revised version of the meeting. I told him the pastor was from Muleshoe, Texas and following the handshake I said to the pastor, “Thank you brother. I really preached the socks off Charles Stanley, didn’t I?” Bill said, “Dr. John, you didn’t tell him that, did you?” I said I surely did, and the pastor was so impressed he booked me (Brother Bill) for a four day revival in Muleshoe! There was a very long pause on the phone while Brother Bill was trying to process what he had just heard. I finally relieved his anxiety by telling him the truth about the encounter and we both had a good laugh.

In remembering the event I’ve wondered how much farther I would have allowed the conversation with the preacher to have gone before I had to tell him I was not Brother Bill. Probably not much longer. Besides I never thought I looked like my evangelist friend!

Dr. John