*Sheila Edwards had changed her mind on the way to an appointment. She felt compelled to go to the service of Sally Bland, who had passed away and was being eulogized on this day by her brother instead. Edwards felt a little embarrassed arriving at the funeral service late. No one would’ve noticed, but the door creaked as she opened it and tipped inside; then her brother, the reverend Darrly Edwards, pleasantly surprised– stopped mid-sentence to tell those in attendance, “That’s my sister,” before returning to his focus.
Moments later, he was gone.
“He was talking about how you need to be ready for death because you never know the day or hour,” Sheila shared. “And about then, it happened.”
Darryl Wayne Edwards, 55, was nicknamed “Hacksaw” by those close to him. He had served at Fannin Street United Methodist Church for five years as pastor.
Edwards was known for saying, “This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it,” whenever he entered a room.
Nearly 200 observers had gathered at Fannin Street United Methodist Church at 10a.m. for the funeral of Sally Bland.
According to Sheila Edwards, her brother said, “God, I need your help,” and then collapsed. He was rushed to a local hospital by ambulance, with his sister following closely behind in her car.
Forty minutes later, Edwards was pronounced dead at DeTar Hospital Navarro in Texas.
“The emergency lights were turned off on the way into Victoria. So we knew he was gone,” she said.
“There was an emergency room doctor in the crowd who came forward, and he was able to detect a faint pulse,” she continued. “I looked in my brother’s eyes, though, and I didn’t see any movement. I just told myself to breathe and trust.”
According to Black Blue Dog Edwards ran from the ministry when he was younger, but returned when he was in his 40’s. He worked at Precinct 1 of Goliad County, and as a bi-vocational minister of the Fannin Street church. He also owned a restaurant called Hack’s Backyard Barbecue.
“He took care of everyone who walked in the door. If they ordered a sandwich, they’d walk out with three or four plates because he knew they’d need food for later,” his sister said. “They got a sandwich and a sermon. He was always giving food away, or taking it to people who couldn’t come to him.”
“He always said you never know when you’re going to go, so you have got to do what’s right, right now,” his sister continued. “His life and death is a ministry.”