A good friend, a new star RIP Mr. Bartha

For those of you who don't know, a good friend of mine, Rev. Johnny Bartha passed away on Saturday. When I lose someone in my life, I find it better to be a calm, level head and simply write something to express my grief. It's how I deal, so you get to read it.

So, Rev. Bartha was more than a friend, he was a truly great pastor. I had only visited a few of his sermons, but as a man who doesn't have the strongest of faith, he made me want to jump up and go out into the world and be all I could be and bring God into my heart. Yes, he was that good. Every church he went to, he had people that would drive for hours to hear his raw, uncensored, inspiring speeches.

I didn't call him my Pastor, however. I called him my friend. He was more than a pastor, or even my friend, he was my sisters father-in-law. They say you can measure a man by his family, and I think Mr. Bartha would be very proud to be measured in such a manner. His family was so important to him, and like anything, when it's important, and you work at it, it can turn out well, and his family is amazing, with beauty and the strength of its patriarch. The biggest smile I had ever seen was the two days he saw his grandchildren come into the world. There was clearly no happier man on Earth on those two days, and that will be the image that sticks in my mind the most.

So, I called him my friend, despite being all these other great things. I sadly didn't know him as well as I would like, as I'm sure so many people would say. It makes this loss that much worse, as he was truly a great man. He was a guy you could talk to about anything. He was wise, but not in such a way as he would hold it over you. He was funny, making you forget he was anything but a nice guy, and he was loyal to those around him, offering to help, like the rest of his family does, at the drop of a hat.

One thing I will always remember that sums of the character of the great Rev. Bartha, was when my grandfather was having heart surgery. This was some time ago, and Mr. Bartha had only met my grandfather a couple of times. Like any surgery, my grandfather, along with the rest of the family was nervous of his recovery. It was merely mentioned to Mr. Bartha, who was down at the hospital an hour later, talking to my grandfather, instantly making him feel at ease. I don't know what they discussed, but I'm sure it ranged from what cars they drove to the power of God, and everything in between. After their talk, my grandfather was no longer nervous, he was happy, knowing God was with him, and that he had such a great friend.

So, when I look up at the sky tonight, I will remember a great pastor, a loving family man and a great friend, and at some point, I'll see a star give that signature twinkle of the Bartha smile and I'll know he is doing just fine.

Rest in Peace my friend

Check out the piece the local paper, the St. Petersburg Times did Feb. 22.