He was called Oak because of his immense size and mighty branch-like arms that swayed in passionate symphony with his words. He was a farmer by day, a humble, quiet man known for his hard work and trustworthiness, but by night he was a mighty man of God, the thunderous prophet voice of an ancient warrior God beating down from a fragile pulpit on a stunned congregation.

(Variant of a passage out of “Far From The Madding Crowd”)