
Bishop Ross Oscar Knight, Sr.
January 22, 1921 - August 7, 2010
Approximately 58 years and four months after my grandfather - Bishop Ross Oscar Knight Sr. - was born in Coy, Alabama, I made my entrance into this world at a hospital in Richmond, VA. I was named after he and my father (Apostle Ross Oscar Knight Jr.). My grandfather used to refer to me as "Third."
To tell you the truth, I didn't like my name growing up. The last name (KNIGHT) was cool but I thought my full name sounded like a name for a preacher or someone that was way more important than me. And then there was Oscar the Grouch on Sesame Street. I wasn't a grouch. As for my surname (III), I used to think to myself, "Am I part of a dynasty or something?" I was teased that using my full name sounded like an old man.
Being a preacher's kid (PK) during the 80's and 90's in Pensacola, it seemed as if everyone had a GPS on my whereabouts at all times. Thanks to my father and grandfather, traveling was no exception because I was most definitely accompanied by someone from the church. There were fleeting moments when I wished that I was part of another family.
With all of that background info, I will be the first to admit that when I was young I didn't know a lot about my grandfather outside of church. We did not spend a great deal of one-on-one time together. I have fading memories of him preaching at his church and having dinner in the fellowship hall after service. Once, I did a history project in middle school on my family and I needed to get some facts about his life. Most of the facts came from my grandmother. I do remember he was an excellent gardener and kept his yard in pristine condition. My dad would remind me that his father was a hard worker and had a kind heart because he helped to raise his younger brothers and sisters when his parents passed.
Luckily, seven years ago I had a "come to Jesus" moment about my life and knowing more about my relatives. I was collecting information and pictures because I wanted to make sure that my children would one day know their lineage and be able to pass on our history. One evening I spent time with my grandparents and it was the first time that I got my questions answered directly by my grandfather. He told me stories of war, growing up in Alabama, dating, meeting my grandmother, buying houses, and how he became a minister. I was in awe! The photos that I received copies of were priceless. I left with a wealth of information that blew my mind. I began to admire my grandfather more than ever and on subsequent trips home I returned to his antique sofa thirsty for more stories. I didn't want to hear about Ross Sr. the Bishop, I wanted to hear about Ross Sr. the man. Learning more about his journey and spirituality helped me to find myself and define my future goals.
While I was in Haiti this past week, I called home nightly to check on my grandfather's declining medical condition. Every day I would hear, "Today is the last day." This past Saturday my grandfather went home to his Creator. Although I was not shocked at the news, I did take time to myself to pray and to thank God for his life.

Since I travel to different countries it has been impossible to ignore the foreign traditions that I witness and hear about. I have incorporated a few in my life. There is an Indian tradition of male sons shaving their heads as a sign of respect when a male father figure or close relative dies. It has been over 25 years since I have completely had a bald head. Tuesday I was informed by my family that it would be my grandfather's last night. On Wednesday, I went to a barber shop (powered by a car battery shown in lower right corner of pic) in Haiti with security and a translator to have my hair cut. Shaving my head felt like a religious experience and freeing of the mind. I fought back tears by telling jokes and teaching my translator how to operate my camera. I didn't share the true reason that I shaved my head with my comrades at the Mission (sorry to those reading this). But now they will know.
To my grandfather - I respect you and I love you. I know you are in a better place. I rejoice knowing that your pain and suffering is over and you have reunited with
grandma. Thank you for allowing me to bear your name. I am humbled and doing all I can to live up to God's plan for my life. I want to make you proud. It has been my honor to be your grandson and I will cherish our memories and your stories forever.
From Your Namesake,
Third
- KNIGHT
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