Chef “Big E” (Eric) Austin

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCdqtmIv9ls

Eric Austin Tribute (As told by Dexter Merritt - from his Indianola, Mississippi childhood friends) I recall growing up as a young boy in Indianola, Mississippi, the individuals pictured below, stayed in close proximity and we would visit each other every single day (smile). From left to right (Donald Ray Sims, Eric Austin, Dexter Merritt, and Michael Wimbley – also known as Eddie) Some of the other Wimbley brothers that are not pictured above (Tommy, Ray, Don, Henry, and Roy – now deceased) were a part of this inner circle as well. I recall Eric and Donald Ray sometimes having breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the Merritt household, or enjoying pinto beans and cornbread at the Wimbley’s home that was right down the path from Mr. Giles’ neighborhood store. Eric loved to eat, and Mrs. Wimbley and Mrs. Merritt cooked some of the best southern dishes. Actually, his culinary passion and talent as an executive chef may have started during his formative years. Eric was very smart and he observed and learned things quickly. This was not only apparent by his grades, but it permeated our friendship and it positively impacted our playtime. During those days, we did not have any money, and video games were not as prevalent as they are now, but we had each other, a love for the outdoors, and by being creative, we made many of our own toys and in the process, some special childhood memories. For example, • We would cut the plastic wrapping that covers a loaf of bread into a square, place a hole in each corner, tie a string to each of the four holes, and connect a small rock to all of the strings to make our own parachutes. • Rather than using clay, we would use mud to sculpt various animals and shapes, then allow it to harden. • We made our own go-carts out of wood and lawnmower tires. One person would sit in the go-cart, while the other pushed. • We made our own bow and arrows sets. • We made our own basketball goals from bicycle rims and wooden backboards. • To make our bicycles sound like motorcycles, we would blow up a balloon and tie it to the spokes on the bicycle such that it could make a particular type of noise when we peddled. Our friendship was all encompassing, as it included a focus on education, church life, scouting, being a good neighbor, quality playtime, creativity, honesty, respect, and more. No one can speak to our experience as friends in the Mississippi Delta better than Eric Austin. Several years ago, Donald Ray posted the above photo on Facebook. Eric saw the posting; his reply is below. Eric Austin’s Reply (January/2023) “Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget.” _unknown I grew up in Indianola, Mississippi very near what my hometown and Facebook sister calls, "the educated end" of Church Street. Let me shed a little light on that statement as I see it. Church Street stretched from one end of town to the other. At one end there was Carver Elementary and Middle school. As a very small boy I would arise anxiously each morning to watch the procession of the town's black children march along Lincoln Street, which is where I lived, on their way to Carver, being too young at the time to join them. Eventually as time would have it, I was able to join the morning parade. Everything happened at Carver, everyone that I knew either attended or was faculty there. And education couldn't have possibly been emphasized any more. I had friends whose older sister's were teachers there, whose mother's were cafeteria lunch ladies, and even my good friend Dexter Merritt 's mother was an educator, while his father was then, one of the school's two principals. There was no refuge for a little boy to escape "schoolwork" My two best friends in town were Dexter Merritt, and Donald Ray. Our friendships were steeped in education. In fact, Dexter's mom had devised an ingenious plan whereby if there was a toy or novelty item of some sort that we wanted to purchase, she would ask the price of said item. Let's say it was .75 cents. Rather than just forking over the requested sum, she would ask us to make a choice. Spelling, reading, math, science. Whichever subject we picked she would devise a test of 75 questions and tell us that each correct answer was worth one penny. Yes, like the game show "Jeopardy" You each have 25 questions. A chance to earn collectively, the amount asked. We would be given an allotted amount of time to study, before we would begin the test. Whether we got the desired item or not, was of little consequence. The fact is, that given our collective brain power, there wasn't anything we couldn't achieve. There is a quote from my favorite Western movie "Tombstone" where the character Doc Holiday, goes to a dual request intended for Wyatt Erp. When one of the men asks him why he would put his life on the line for Wyatt's, he replies, "he's my friend" Hell, I've got lots of friends, the man exclaims. To which Holiday retorts "I don't". Eric was sent by God to be a part of our lives, and for that we are forever thankful. Our heartfelt condolences are extended to his family and loved ones. Eric, we will forever remain, Your friends truly, Dexter, Donald Ray, Michael, Tommy, Ray, Don, and Henry

I wanted to share a few reflections upon my relationship with Big E as his Pastor for the last two years. We first met Eric sitting on a bench in Loring Park one afternoon and offered to pray for him. After sharing a little about his life, we invited him to come to church that Sunday. Not only did he show up that weekend, but he rarely ever missed a Sunday since! Big E was known to everyone in our community as a kind, gentle and friendly man. Though he was often a man of few words, when he did share it was profound and powerful. He was a deep thinker and considered deeply what God was speaking to him through sermons and the Bible. He had many friends through our church, and enjoyed serving the community through our outreach and food ministries. This past Fall he decided to get baptized at our church and shared his testimony of coming to faith in Jesus Christ. I post what Eric shared with our church here: "I was raised in a small town in Mississippi during the Jim Crow era, where I attended a black Baptist church growing up. When I moved to NYC as an adult, my Christian upbringing fell by the wayside. Later I moved to Minneapolis and opened a restaurant near downtown. It sadly ended and I was more than frustrated. I was lost and felt like I had no purpose. On one of those challenging days I went down to Loring Park to sit and have it out with God. Why God? What am I supposed to do now? I remembered a story I was once told in church about straying from faith. A little boy found himself playing one day, and became so preoccupied with his play that he lost he bearings and looked up to find himself lost. He sat down and began to cry at his predicament. Along came a kind stranger and asked the boy what the matter was. "I'm lost," he said. "Well is there something you can remember about your street that might help us find your way back?" "Yes," said the boy, "on my street there's a church and on the roof of the church is a tall cross. And if I can find my way back to the cross, I can find my way back home!" Like the little boy, I became so caught up in living life by my own terms that I had lost my way. As I sat on that bench in Loring Park a few years ago unsure where to turn in life, along came a few members from Miracle City Church who prayed for me and invited me to church. Well, I went that Sunday. I liked what I saw and what I heard and felt. Since then I've never missed a Sunday message and have been attending a Home Group for the past two years. I make it a point to get to church early before service and sit in seat #201 - just like my bench in the park. It took that invitation to church and to the Cross of Jesus Christ for me to find my way back home. That journey has led me to following Jesus along with my commitment of being baptized. In the worlds of the spirituals of my childhood, "I was lost, now I'm found, I was blind, but now I see." We miss Big E dearly around here, but are also filled with confidence and joy that he is healed with Jesus in heaven now. I look forward to the day I get to see E again. -Trent Palmberg, Senior Pastor, Miracle City Church

I met Big E only a few years ago. We didn’t know each other well, but became good Facebook friends. One time I brought him some crawfish Indo Mi instant ramen packets and he fell in love with that flavor. Yes, even chefs love instant noodles! I saw him on 46th and Nicollet waiting for the bus. I pulled into the parking lot behind him, rolled down my window and yelled “Eric! ERIC!!” He finally turned around, and said “Oh, hey Cricket! I didn’t respond because no one calls me Eric. They all call me E!” Ha! Since we weren’t close in real life I didn’t know that, but we had a good laugh. I gave him a ride home to his apartment. He was an excellent teacher in my Facebook cooking group and I will miss his input and his stories on making real soul food.

I’m Eric’s first cousin, our Mom’s where sister. I was the sister his Mom never had