Jim Rawson Fan!

News Flash - Jim Goes Modern

Jim's brief flirtation with postmodernism came to an end on Sunday when a candle almost caught his house on fire. Jim said another contributing factor in his return to modernism is that if he didn't, he would be encouraging his pastor to make even less sense in his sermons. "The Leafs provide me with all the sense of mystery I need," Jim said.

amazing jim-gear™

You won't find it anywhere else - new and Amazing Jim-Gear™ including Jim Christmas stockings, ornaments, teddy bears, tank tops, boxer shorts, beer steins, tote bags, and more. We've even rolled back the prices. Take that Wal Mart! Get your Jim-Gear™ now!

why we love jim

House builder...marathon runner...computer programmer...coffee maker...friend. Jim Rawson has meant so much to all of us, in many different ways.

Here's an example of the sort of tribute to Jim we've come to expect:

I was surfing the net, and I came across the the name to go with the face etched into my mind since 1994...

It was a cool October Day in Port Credit, and I set out for school on my bike, like I always did. As I rode I caught a glimpse of something just outside my line of sight; something terrifying.

It was the "Shawnmarr Posse". Street toughs hardened by years in suberbia roamed my neighborhood, preying on kids, adults, small dogs, and slow squirrels. That morning they were after me. Needless to say, I peddled like never before, but thier scooters were supercharged, and they overtook me quickly. They pulled me from my bike, and surrounded me in the park... I braced myself for the impending pantsing, as the Shawnmarr boys closed ranks around me. Then they stopped, raised their heads to the strange sound of Rich Mullins music drawing closer. The sound of my salvation.

Like a flash of lightning he appeared. A blur of 'Wind River' blue and blonde hair. A pillar of a man standing between me and my oppressors. They looked at him, then down at me, and continued to advance, all 17 of them. They threw themselves at him, bats, knives, cudgels, throw rugs....everything they had. He threw his head back and laughed a deep throaty laugh. His large wet shirt had absorbed all the punishment, and now it was his turn. Large knuckles and empty Diet Coke bottles taught the Shawnmarr Posse a lesson that day....

As for the mystery man, the glistening demi-god, he asked for no thanks. All he said as he wedged himself back into his Honda hatchback was "Hang in there, bud". And then he was gone.

Submitted anonymously.

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