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Please, God, Don't Let This Be My Last Vacation

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God Bless you.

Joyce, my wife of 42 years, and I have just gotten back from our summer vacation.

Please, God, in Jesus' name I pray, don't let this be our last vacation together.

We had planned this vacation early last year, when we agreed that Joyce would retire at the end of July and that, if health and other circumstances permitted, I would retire at the end of the year.

My brain tumor, prostate cancer and end-staged congestive heart failure, for which the Mayo Clinic placed me on the heart transplant list last Nov. 5, placed fearful uncertainty on my being able to vacation with Joyce.

She can vacation all she wants now because she retired at the end of July. I couldn't because I was still working. And part of our vacation would have to be at our expense because my previous four weeks of vacation had been cut in half. Any extra vacations days would be without pay.

Then came my life-threatening 30-day hospital stay, after I had suffered a cardio-genic attack, a deadly member of the "heart attack" family. I was placed on life support twice and each time my family was called to my bedside to possibly watch me breathe my last breath.

"Is it alright to cry now?" my nine-year-old grandson, Timothy James Chapman, asked.

"You can cry if you feel like it," his mother, Nicole Chapman, said. "But what grandpa needs most of all is for us to pray for him and ask God to bring him through."

On Jan. 29, I underwent a life-saving implantation of a heart pump (Heartmate II, Left Ventricular Assist Device) at the University of Chicago Medical Center. Afterward, I was so weak I could not sit up in bed by myself. So I obviously could not stand or walk, either. I had to learn to do those all over again.

On Feb. 10, I was released from the hospital to come home as the chief recipient of answered prayers. Prayers that had been offered up to God by myself, my family and prayer partners like you.

Since then, I've been on the mend and were cleared to resume work on April 5. The company has been very helpful and understanding in not assigning me too much too soon. Some things, I still can't do too well.

* I can't climb the ramps at Wrigley Field without having to stop as rest at intervals.

* The same applies for the steep steps at Toyota Park.

* I can't stand too long for interviews before a back and legs start giving out.

* I can't run to post-game interviews as part of night-time deadline assignments.

* I can't go out on a news assignment without taking spar batteries for my heart pump, leaving extra early, taking pain pills to enable me to walk and stand long enough for interviews and always making sure I am near a rest room or a urinal.

I firmly believe that I am the only newspaper reporter handicapped in this way. But I'm still functional and my doctors agree that continuing to work is good for me mentally, physically and emotionally.

During my 45 years as a professional reporter, I have worked with reporters struggling with assorted physical handicaps. this is still the case. Some are blind. Some are paralyzed from the waist down. Some hobble around on crutches with a foot or leg in a cast. Some are in wheelchairs pushed by a caregiver. Some have battled terminal cancer to the very end until they could no longer work. Some are outfitted with pacemakers and defibrillators, artificial hips and artificial knees. Yet, they courageously go about their work as best they can and some perform better than others who have no handicap.

So I resumed preaching in Christian churches and working for the Sun-Times on April 5. For my first out-of-town assignments, I drove myself there, packed my $500,000 worth of machines that keep my heart pumping, and reassembled them in the hotels. When it was time to go out on assignment, I'd put in freshly charged batteries that would help my heart continue pumping for at least 12 hours before they need to be changed.

When Joyce and I left for vacation, I flew for the first time since being implanted with a heart pump. Because of my Premier status and an abundance of frequent flier points with United, we were about to fly first class, board the plane first, carry my heart equipment in roller luggage and store them in the overhead bends.

Because one bag weighs 25 pounds, I had to have help lifting it for the first time. Thereafter, I managed to store and remove them myself by sliding them out toward me. We went to Orlando and spent most of our time in the hotels except for when we went to a movie, went shopping or went to a restaurant.

Last year, we also went to Orlando and did Disney World with both of us riding in their motorized wheelchairs. My wife frequently crashed into me with her cart because, well, she was a bad driver.

I wasn't the first LVAD patient to fly. According to Dr. Valluvan Jeevanandam, UCMC heart surgeon, who operated on me, and his assistant, Tracy Valeroso, other LVAD patients have been flying, too. One of Dr. V-J's recent LVAD implant patients flies regularly from Kuwait to Chicago for her heart care.

This information should be useful to those of you cogestive heart failure patients who may have to get a heart pump before you get a new heart. You can still work. You can still love. You can still play and you can still travel so long as you make sure you pack enough batteries to deal with an travel delays.

Yes, I was worried by serious problems other than my health during my vacaton. I've learned to pace myself and take my medicines in a manner to minimize painful side effects. There are serious pension issues yet to be resolved and that's tension, stress and anguish and anger I don't need.

But I'm blessed to be alive and as functional as I am. And it's largely, if not mostly, because of prayer. Thank you all for continuing to pray for me.

God bless you.

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Lacy J. Banks - The Half-Million Dollar Man.

How grand that you and your lady of leisure had a vacation! Every time there's a gap in your postings, I hope that it's because you're getting your new heart. But, making the old beat with the joy of rest and relaxation isn't bad either.

So now you're back and you'll wind up your distinguished career at the Sun-Times, you'll get your new heart, and starting next May, you and Mayor Daley will be hanging out together, trying to get used to retirement.

BANKS' RESPONSE: It would be so nice, so very, very nice to blame my occasional blog shutdowns on the reception of a new heart. Unfortunately, mysterious circumstances tricked me into that Jan. 11 heart attack that threw me off track some four months, more than enough time to receive a new heart and be well on the road to recovery. At the same time, a vacation with my wife after her retirement from more than four decades of hard work is immeasurably rewarding, too. Thank you for commending our vacation. I'm blessed. We're both immensely blessed. I feel like shouting right now, John. I mean flat-out shouting because the Lord just keeps right on blessing me. I wish you could feel the oceans of euphoric emotions that overwhelm me when I think of how much worse things could be than they are, rather than how much better they could be. We all are caught in that great between. I continue to pray for you, for Marie, for Gwen, Marcia, Donna, Maria and all you prayer partners who have struggles of your own, some perhaps worse than mine. I take no pride in my survival so far from all I've been through. Rather, I thank the Lord for His continued grace and mercy. I pray that they likewise be showered upon you and everybody else who has faith in Him. Everybody else who is a member of the high priesthood of believers. Let us not slacken. Let us never lose hope. Let us forever cling to that old rugged cross upon which Jesus, our Savior, was nailed, hung high, stretched wide and bled dry for the remission of our sins. I believe it took Professor Randy Pausch about two years to die from his fight with pancreatic cancer. It was in March of 2008 when I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, prostate cancer and end-stage congestive heart failure requiring a heart transplant. Yes, that was roughly two and a half years ago. But as you noted earlier, here I am still alive and blogging. As much as I have compassion and hope for your situation, I'd change places with you in a wink. Good health and hope are better than bad health and hope. Especially when that bad health is compounded by other non-medical problems. Still, I thank the Lord. I said I thank the Lord that I'm still alive and not in any great pain. Sure, I'm much weaker than I was when I first got sick. But I still have enough strength to breathe in and out, to walk, talk and smile as I fight through my pains with the aid of prayer and God-blessed pain killers.

Hey Rev,
I’d just decided to send you a note asking what you were up to when I opened your blog this evening to find your vacation posting. It’s so wonderful to know that you and Joyce were able to get away and enjoy yourselves. And you flew! I remember you writing before that you’d planned to drive because you didn’t think Bionic Lacy could fly. Of course, we know Who worked all that out, don’t we? I pray that you’ve returned refreshed and with more energy to continue your battle in the same manner that you have until now, standing flat footed and unmovable in our Father’s strength. I pray that your pension issues are being resolved in your favor because our God has the ability to influence people to do things for His children that they had no intention of doing. I imagine them standing there scratching their heads wondering what just happened after the fact. So you just keep on working and loving and playing and traveling and everything else you desire and are able to do that comprises a full and enjoyable life. In many ways people without disabilities are at a disadvantage because they don’t know how blessed they are, nor are they pushed beyond seemingly human limits to discover how strong they can be. In the Lord of course. God bless YOU, Rev.

BANKS' RESPONSE: Yes, Marie, I flew. I flew the friendly skies of a certain airlines on the wings of faith, God's grace and mercy. I flew at a spiritual altitude far higher than any man-made plane can fly. I told Mayo Clinic that this was a vacation I just had to take because it had been more than a year in the making and because, well, let's be honest, it just may be my last. I pray not. Of course, I wouldn't have to be sick for it to be my last. There are many perfectly healthy people who are taking a flight right now that will be their very last. They just don't know it yet and probably never will if death strikes suddenly enough. Yes, I think of death. I'd be lying and I wouldn't be human to say otherwise. I think of death in my situation because that which is born of the flesh is flesh. I think of death because I know the established odds of people in my condition. But whereas that which is born of the flesh is flesh, as King Jesus told the Sanhedrin judge Nicodemus, that which is born of the spirit is spirit. So because I've been born of the flesh and then born again of God Spirit, then baptized with water and His fire, I know that I can do all things through Christ Jesus, who strengthens me. I know that nothing is impossible to those who believe. Sycamore trees and mountains are no match for our faith in God. And because we love Him and have answered His call according to His purpose, then all things work TOGETHER for our good. Yes, I flew right along side Joyce, my girlfriend of 49 years and wife of 42. And as we flew and she took a nap, I stared at her. I flashed back on how we first met in high school. I flashed back on when we first fell in love. I flashed back on our first kiss of bliss. I flash back on our marriage in her home. I flashed back on our five children, including twin sons, who died at birth. I flashed back on how she has been in my corner all the way just as you have been in your darling's corner. I stared at her. I stared at her. I said I stared at her and how we both had changed over the years. I stared at her and thank God for every sweet wrinkle and every beautiful extra pound that she has added. I blame myself for many of those pounds because of all the chocolates, shrimp fried rice, egg foo yong, lobsters and other goodies I've fed her. I stared at her. She was fast asleep. Often, I have stared at her and had to stop when she caught me staring and asked me, "What are you staring at?" But this time, she was asleep. There would be no interruption for interrogation. I feasted my eyes on my wife and, in the process, flew higher and higher and higher than our plane, or any plane or rocket, could ever fly. I reached euphoric elevations only reached through the spacecraft of love. Yes, I flew far, far out of this world. That's what love can empower mortals like us to do without any aviation license, aviation know-how, aircraft or spacecraft. Do you ever take such flights, Marie, and all you other sisters and brothers who have ever been in love? Yes, I fly high and get high off of love. Don't need any drugs. No alcohol. No hypnotism. All you need, all I need and all anybody needs is true love. Then we can take to the sky and never come back down.

Lacy -

I think it's important for you to know that there are times when hope seems to flee from me and sadness and despair reaches out to overtake me. When that happens, I can reflect on a man who was - two and a half years ago - given dire diagnoses and, yet, is still here, is still writing, is still going on vacation, is still falling in love with his high school sweetheart.

There are those in the vocal minority who have chosen to mock the idea of hope. They want us to fear instead. They do not understand. Neither you nor I would be here today if we had no hope. There is never a problem without a solution. We must never give up looking for and expecting the answer - that is what hope is. So, today again, I have hope that the answer is there and that I'll know it soon. You have reminded me to do so.

Your blog reminds us that hope is not without purpose or reward. When we see what the outworking has been for you, we are reminded again that the answer is always there and that Love never fails.

Thank you for sharing that.

BANKS' RESPONSE: John, I believe that you, others in our core and I collectively represent the true face of America's real people. We try our dardest to hop and hope our way through the toughest of times. We represent a kaleidoscope of America's rank and file just trying our best to deal with adversity and emerge victorious. Hope. What good is life without hope? What good is love without hope? Hope has to be the main entre on the menus of love and life. Hope feeds them both nutritiously and deliciously. But once we downgrade our spirits and minds from hoping to doubting, fearing, giving up and giving in, it would take a lightweight miracle to revive and save us. When I was a little boy growing up in Mississippi, I felt the old elders of our church and community were misusing English when they used "hope" as a verb instead of a noun. In fact, they used "hope" in the same way mainstream America uses "help." They were thus saying the same thing in different ways. They had a habit of asking people to hope them in times of trouble or hope them to perform a certain task. Like: "Will you please hope me get a job at the mill?" It eventually occurred to me that hoping somebody is also helping somebody. Same thing could apply to pray and wish. Would you please pray me through this problem? Would you please wish me well so that I can get what's good for me? So, John, as we continue to hope and pray for each other, we likewise hope and help each other. Meantime, be not weary in well doing, or in doing well or doing good. For in due season, ye shall reap well, if ye faint not, then eventually we shall come forth rejoicing bringing in the sheaves of God's bountiful blessings. Finally, speaking of hope: my hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus' name. On Christ, I solid rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand. All other ground is sinking sand.

Rev Banks,
I thank God for blessing this earth with your presence. Your living is not in vain, nor is your suffering. God has chosen you as the voice to tell a dying world there is hope. God has all the answers and He gives knowledge to man. He has given you so much in this life, and He's not done yet. My prayer is for your strength to continue spreading His word, many will be saved through your testimony.

BANKS' RESPONSE: I continue to be encouraged and comforted by people like you who are keenly perceptive. People of faith who know that, no matter how good or how bad times are, it ain't over until it's over. People, again, of faith who know that God has the last word. An old hymn still inspires us. "Be not dismayed what e're betides, God will take care of you. Beneath His wings of love abide, God will take care of you. God will take care of you, through every day, o'er all the way. He will take care of you. God will take care of you." Yes, Shara, because we serve a perfect, all-knowing, all-powerful God, nothing happens by mistake from His great perspective. He is no accidental God. Nothing happens outside the radius of God's power. In Him we live, we move and have our being." So no matter how bad times get, our God is still willing and able to save us by His grace through our faith, which Jesus authored and finished anyway. Thoughout our lives, God puts us on program to praise Him not only for the way things are going well. He also calls us to praise Him through patient, faithful and even grateful suffering. We are called to tell the world that in the baddest of times,God is still good. His mercy is everlasting and His truth endures through all generations. I pray for your increase in faith, Shara. I pray that His blessings shower you and make your joys full. God bless you, Shara.

Yes, Rev. Lacy, I have indeed taken such flights and I thank you for reminding me. The first flight was the day after my husband’s stroke (after 4 heart attacks and triple bypass surgery within the preceding 14 years of marriage). I was sitting in a chair with my head on his bed in ICU and he was holding on to me as if for dear life. Every move I made that broke that contact seemed to agitate him and he would only be calm if he could touch me. It wasn’t the most comfortable physical position for me, but I remained there as much as I could because for the first time in our marriage, I finally realized what it felt like to be one person with him. Make no mistake, I’ve loved him and I know that he has loved me from before our wedding day over 23 years ago, but this was so different that I can barely find the right words. I know I don’t have to describe it to you, Rev, but I wish I could for others reading this blog.
You have to know that being a wife and mother wasn’t on my early life radar. I was Miss Independent, not going to be controlled by anyone, took care of me, and watch out if you got in my way. I didn’t grow up thinking that my future would be complete only with marriage and children. I pursued education and a professional career. On our first anniversary and many thereafter I woke up thinking how in the world I ended up married and married to this man. I used to have conversations with God about what was He thinking when He brought us together because I was not a prime candidate for this assignment. Of course, I’ve since understood and accepted that God planned this all along (from before I was formed in my mother’s womb) and nothing I did to thwart His plans was going to succeed. Yes indeed I did a lot of stupid stuff that should have thwarted His plans.
With that background, I am still amazed at the additional flights of blessings that assure me that I am not alone in this challenge and that God is here with me step by step. There are flights of learning more and more how much my husband loves me and trusts me with his life. I’ve even had very turbulent flights of being unspeakably angry about this situation. In fact for a while I was at that livid level of angry and didn’t always hide it well. Eventually the Lord took me on flights that showed me that this was a unique opportunity to serve God through caring for my other half that not many people get to experience. I’m not saying I’d choose this again, but it takes the Lord to shift the looking glass in just the right manner to reveal His will. That flight enabled me to change from doing things as an unpleasant and unwelcome duty to willingly performing them as glorious expressions of love and devotion.
I take flights when new acquaintances ask about what I do and want to hear our story. I take flights when someone unexpectedly confides in me and I realize that this experience has prepared me to be a blessing to someone else just beginning a similar journey or who has been longing for someone to be compassionate, empathetic, and encouraging. Those flights are especially thrilling because they take me so high in the Spirit. You know what I’m talking about.
And you know what Rev.? You’ve also explained why he leans in his chair so he can see me pass the door to the room where he watches television. Is he taking flights too, just by looking at his wife? In between the busyness of my daily coming and going I look in at him to make sure he’s alright. In the morning I peep in before he awakes and sometimes at night if I can’t sleep. I watch him like a new mother watches her tiny sleeping baby to make sure it’s breathing. Sometimes we take hilarious flights on jokes about his illnesses and the routines we’ve developed to accommodate them. We’ve had joint flights in the car while I’m driving and he reaches for one hand while I drive with the other hand.
I could go on and on, but I want to share one last flight before I close this entry. It is on the subject of death, which you have so appropriately addressed on a number of occasions. Several years ago, a seasoned trained professional that manages his case mentioned that he looked tired. Not the normal tired, but the extreme look of a person who has become fatigued from fighting for their life. The years of doctors, nurses, medical tests, hospitals, pills and more pills, equipment and more equipment, the poking and prodding, the physical and emotional limitations, isolation from the world, and inability to do even the most mundane things for oneself that most take for granted, is more than enough to exhaust the strongest of people. I’d noticed that look several weeks before and pretended not to see it. As it is that person’s responsibility to manage everything about a patient’s care, I was asked if I saw his exhaustion and if we’d had “the conversation”, the one about death. We’d already done the legal stuff, but not dealt with the Big One. It took me several weeks and more prayers than I can count to prepare myself for that conversation, but I knew in my heart that it had to happen. We had to have that conversation because I am a firm believer in not holding on to terminally ill people for selfish reasons. I’ve had several opportunities to let dearly loved ones go and I made sure to tell them not to hang around earth for my benefit. I could tell them this because I’d seen the effect of others’ not being able to let go and their loved ones continued to suffer needlessly. I could tell my loved ones this because I knew that they knew the Lord Jesus Christ and I knew He was waiting for them to come to their heavenly home. So I prayed and asked God to show me the right time to have that conversation with my darling.
The conversation happened one Sunday morning while I was dressing and grooming him for the day. It is very difficult for him to speak intelligibly so I did most of the talking. I probably started with the words, “Honey I need to talk with you” that I’ve heard causes many men to tremble.  Fortunately, we’ve gotten beyond that point in our relationship. I told him that I knew he was tired and had every right to be because of all the illnesses and conditions he had. I told him that if he was tired of fighting and wanted to go home to be with the Lord, it was alright because I would be OK. I told him that I wasn’t rushing anything and that I’d continue to care for him as long as the Lord gave me strength. I just didn’t want him to continue suffering because he was worried about me and what would happen to me. I reminded him that I was independent and self sufficient (I thought so at the time) when he met and married me and that I was a strong woman then and would continue to be a strong woman. I believe he smiled at the memories of how we butted heads early in our marriage as I learned to take my right position as a wife, which allowed him to take his right position as the husband priest, provider and protector in our marriage. I smiled too through my tears. I said that the same God that has sustained us throughout our marriage and its trials would be with me and help me after he was gone. I don’t remember saying much else beyond telling him that I love him and we hugged for a long time.
So, we’ve said our goodbyes and we are still here according to the Lord’s will for our lives and only He knows the ending, the timing and the circumstances. I no longer concern myself with the details, which is incredibly freeing. No longer tethered by earthly worries over which we have no control, I can soar every day because I know that when one of us goes home to glory before the other, we are at peace with one another and with our God. We are fulfilling our marriage vows of ‘til death do us part with the Lord’s help and I have no doubt that He is pleased with us.

BANKS' RESPONSE: My, my, my--Marie. What a profound description you're giving of the thoughts and feelings of what a gravely ill patient and his caregiver spouse must experience as the prospect of death approach. My wife has had several dress rehearsals of mentally and emotionally preparing for my death. Events like my triple bypass in 2001 and of my cardio-genic shock on Jan. 11, this year, certainly help because I came so close to dying each time. Moreover, I have done my best to help her through our frank discussions, which I initiate, and through sermons that I have preached about the inevitability of death before the rapture of our Savior Jesus Christ. Only His return will keep us from dying. And, of course, when Jesus comes, the dead in Christ shall rise first. Presently, I am in the Mayo Clinic undergoing tests to confirm my continued fitness for a heart transplant. My wife of 42 years, Joyce, is with me for the first time during a Mayo visit. Work had prevented her from accompanying me on previous visits. Now that she is retired, she says she has nothing else to do, really, but look after me. After reading your comment, while she was watching "One Life To Live," one of her favorite soap operas, I popped the magic question: "Joyce, are you ready for me to die?" "No!" she snapped. "You ain't going nowhere." I realize that I did a poor job of asking her the question. So I edited it. "I mean, will you be ready when I die?" I said. Well, that didn't change her answer. "You ain't going to die any time soon," she fired back. "So don't even think about it." Well, I at least stopped talking about it with her. From her perspective, Joyce is refusing to let me die, just as you are doing for your husband. Whatever she can do to ease my suffering and extend my life, she is committed to doing her best. It really moved us all to read your comments about "the touch." Fate has not been kind to your marriage because of the early invasions of his heat attacks stroke. Short of God's grace and mercy and the love of Jesus, your husband's primary hope has been you. His anchor has been you. His foundation, his inspiration, motivation, salvation, admiration, adoration and rejuvenation has been you. You have been God's fingers, God's ears, eyes, mouth and mind on your husband's behalf. You are the awesome extension of God's keeping powers. Somehow, in those bleak moments, when you fingers touch his fingers, I see sparks fly. I see priceless energy transferred from you to him. I see love being exchanged. And when you remove your hand, it's like some devastating disconnect that displeases and distresses him. Included in that momentary disconnect is something similar to an electrical blackout that shuts down a whole neighborhood and, God forbid, a whole city. That tender touch that means so much is a powerful testament of love. No, I don't want my wife to suffer from my suffering any more than she has to. I am not greedy. I don't want to be kept alive just to run up doctor bills and hospital bills, which many individuals and institutions exploit. I ask God to please let me die easy or in my sleep. My father suffered a stroke from which he never awoke. Eventually, the plug was pulled. That's the hardest decision one makes for his or her loved one. But it's most horrible for one to be in excruciating pain and speechless, unable to beg, which some had done, please end my suffering. Please stop the pain. Please, please, please. That circumstance may be earth's best description of hell. But until death comes, we all try to make the most of a bad situation. We try our best to give life a chance. And we pray to God that when we make that crucial decisive decision, that it be the right one for all concerned, but especially for the one who is hurting the most.

Rev. Banks,
I'm delighted to know that you are enjoying life to the utmost of your ability. I often think of you and send my prayers for you to the ears of our heavenly Father who I know listens and blesses us all. When I think of your strong faith and tenacity, I am reminded of the words to this hymn: "I've got confidence God is going to see me through and no matter what the case may be, I know He's going to fix it for me." It's so wonderful to know that you are reaping the rewards of a good life in the midst of your challenges and that you continue to give God all the praise and glory. I thank you for the marvelous example you've shown us on how to be pleasing to God.

BANKS' RESPONSE: Yes, Deborah, by the grace and mercy of God, I am living and enjoying my life to the utmost. I thank Jesus for my faith, which He authored and finished. I thank Jesus for being the quintessential Fixer. I thank Jesus for shedding His blood on calvary for the remission of all my sins--past, present and future. If I am any encouragement to you or anybody else, I am what I am, who I am, whenever and wherever I am all because of Christ Jesus. Thank you for your prayers. I'll take a prayer over any greeting card, any bouquet of flowers, any box of chocolates, any money, any well wishes and any wishes for good luck any day. I don't believe in luck. I believe in God's grace and mercy. I believe that He has the power and will to heal me and that He has been healing me for more than two years now. Some doubters and haters probably ask, "What's taking God so long?" I know some of them are also tired of me blogging about my struggles and how the Lord is bringing me through because, quite frankly, some people actually were wishing that I'd be dead by now so that they could watch me die. But please be patient with us--God and me--because God is not through with me yet. But ooohhhhh, when He gets through, Deborah, I shall come forth as pure gold. I pray that God blesses you bountifully, Deborah, and grant unto you your needs and the healthful desires of your heart. God bless you, Deborah. May the good Lord bless you real, real good.

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Lacy J. Banks

Lacy J. Banks, 67, has been a Sun-Times sportswriter/columnist for 38 years and a Baptist preacher for 58 years. He has preached at more than 100 different churches in the Chicago area. A native of Lyon, Miss., Banks graduated from the University of Kansas with a B.A. in French and he served three years in the Vietnam War as a U.S. Naval officer. Lacy and wife, Joyce, have been married 42 years and have three daughters and five grandchildren. Among beats Banks has covered for the Sun-Times are the Bulls, Fire, defunct Sting, Blackhawks, Wolves, Cubs, defunct Hussle, Rush, Sky, college football and basketball and pro boxing.



About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Lacy Banks published on September 8, 2010 8:25 AM.

I Don't Deserve Your Heart Or Anybody Else's For That Matter was the previous entry in this blog.

I'm Three Patients Away From A New Heart And My Prostate Cancer Is On Its last Legs is the next entry in this blog.

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