Dallas and the Spitfire: An Old Car, an Ex-Con, and an Unlikely Friendship

By Ted Kluck and Dallas Jahncke

A Suburban Dad and an Ex Con Show What Discipleship Looks Like

Ted is an educated thirty-something father of two who's been going to church his whole life. Dallas is a twenty-one-year-old former cocaine addict with a prison record who has recently become a Christian. When they agree to meet regularly for "discipleship," they know that chatting once a week in a coffee shop just won't cut it. Instead, they decide to get to know each other while restoring an old Triumph Spitfire. Filled with surprises and humor, Dallas and the Spitfire tells a gripping story of two lives changed, and along the way gives readers a new model for men's ministry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
• Release date: Apr 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781441270146

Ted Kluck

Ted Kluck is an award-winning writer whose work has appeared in ESPN the Magazine, USA Today, and ESPN.com. He’s the author of several books, including Why We’re Not Emergent: By Two Guys Who Should Be, coauthored with Kevin DeYoung. Ted lives in Tennessee with his wife Kristin and their two sons, Tristan and Maxim. www.tedkluck.com

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Introduction

The Kid Ain’t Right

There’s a coffee shop in our city called Biggby’s. It’s the kind of place that always has a fashionable college girl with a pseudo-rebellious nose ring and one or two tattoos working behind the counter. It’s the kind of place that always has one or two skinny guys with hip glasses typing on Macs, desperately hoping somebody will ask them what they’re working on. [1] It’s the kind of place that has Michael Bublé music piped in the background, and where the pseudo-rebellious girl is contractually obligated to make pleasant chitchat with you in a way that makes it seem that even though you know (and she knows) that she’s obligated to make the chitchat, she sort of enjoys it. All that to say, it’s every coffee shop in every suburban strip mall in every city in America. It’s where I’ll meet Dallas Jahncke for the first time.

Our church—a smallish[2] Reformed church in East Lansing, Michigan—is big on people meeting with other people. This is called discipleship, which is a term that has always made me a little uncomfortable, even though I know it’s biblical and therefore shouldn’t make me uncomfortable. I just don’t really feel qualified to disciple anyone. I have lots of friends—I feel qualified to have friends and have relationships with people—but when it comes to the practice of giving spiritual advice, I feel a little lacking. Granted, on paper, I’m different enough from Dallas to be able to give him advice; I’ve been happily married for thirteen years and have a couple of kids, a house in the suburbs, and semi-gainful employment.[3] But I have bouts of depression, long stretches of spiritual apathy, and a seriously nasty sarcastic streak. And I’ve had a ridiculously bad year so far. Two thousand ten has seen the dissolution of an international adoption that we’d been working hard on and paying through the nose for, and the falling-through of two business (read: book) deals that seemed like slam dunks. Everything I’ve touched in 2010 has turned into a huge pile of garbage. Hence my trepidation at discipling young Dallas. As much for him as for myself.

Another thing that makes me feel weird about the evangelical people meeting with people culture is the idea that when you meet with someone, you can’t make a life decision of any kind without running it by them first. The Discipler becomes a de facto Life Coach. And while this people meeting with people phenomenon has been mostly good for our church, there are still a lot of college guys walking around who don’t have the backbone to have a cup of coffee with a girl without running it by six elders and reading four books by dead puritans first. I think this is ridiculous.

All of this is running through my head as I prepare to meet with Dallas. I’ve heard some things about this kid. I know he lives in the Lansing City Rescue Mission. I know he’s been in and out of jail a few times. I know he was a drug addict. And I know I was tabbed for this job because I have experience dealing with rough people, i.e., I watch boxing, have written a book about Mike Tyson,[4] and played semi-pro football with all manner of formerly incarcerated men. I have the bruises and scars to prove it, and I don’t so much walk into the coffee shop as painfully shuffle. As any football player knows, this is the chronic pain that comes from being in-season.

I order a tall, skinny decaf mocha from the girl with the quasi-rebellious tattoo.[5] When Dallas enters, he is covered from head to toe in tattoos of his own—and these aren’t the kind you get with a friend on spring break after a night of drinking. They’re not even the typical I watch UFC and am a tough-guy-wannabe tats.[6] And they’re definitely not the Christian hipster Bible verse in Greek tats. These are the Serious Issues kind of tats.

I did most of these myself, he explains. His voice is a mixture of mid-South (he spent some time in Tennessee) and Midwest. He’s a white guy, probably around five feet eleven, but stocky, around 230 pounds. Apparently, as the story goes, when he first got to the mission he weighed about three hundred pounds and had a long, Jim-the-Anvil-Neidhart[7] goatee that stretched down to mid-chest. A real bad-looking dude. Now, he’s clean shaven with a face that is sort of cherubic—which is a fancy way of saying it’s round and friendly looking. In fact, all of the tattoos look kind of incongruous beneath such a friendly and young-looking face. This kid has lived a lot of life for a twenty-one-year-old.

His knuckles, each bearing a letter, read Aint Right (sic). I consider asking him why he didn’t devote a whole finger to an apostrophe, but instead ask him the story behind the tats.

My dad started getting me drunk when I was eight years old, he explains. I try to hide my shock. And when he would get drunk, he would get violent. . . . He smacked us around quite a bit. And he always used to tell me that I ain’t right. So I wrote it on my fingers. Dallas’s mother and father are deceased. Both had issues with substance abuse. He has two brothers whom he loves dearly, and whom I can quickly tell is loyal-to-the-grave-to, but both of them are in various stages of the penal system, and both struggle with similar addictions. He is, in terms of practical making it purposes, alone in the world. That is, aside from the auspices of the Lansing City Rescue Mission[8] and his friends at University Reformed Church.

His neck reads No Regrets, though, ironically, he would admit that he has lots of them. I did this one night after my girlfriend broke up with me, Dallas explains. I went home and drank an entire bottle of tequila, ripped the mirror off the wall, and tattooed my own neck. I probably couldn’t write out the words no regrets on a piece of paper, stone sober, as legibly as they’re written on Dallas’s neck.

Each wrist bears a picture of a razor blade breaking the skin to commemorate his suicide attempts. It was the last of three suicide attempts that landed him in the Lansing City Rescue Mission, a small residential rehab facility in downtown Lansing that sits right next to a piano bar. He lives on the second floor of the Mission, in a barracks-style room with all manner of other Lansing-area homeless guys and drug addicts. The Mission orders his time these days, and he spends it going from AA[9] to CR[10] meetings, Bible studies, and the gym. Before landing in the Mission, Dallas was homeless, often sleeping in tents or barns, and drinking himself to sleep.

After I attempted suicide the third time, they wouldn’t release me from the hospital unless I agreed to go into some kind of residential rehab, he explains. My caseworker called all over, and the only place that would take me was the Mission. The executive director at the Mission, Mark Criss, made it clear that they were a Christian program and that they would only take men who were willing to live by their standards and at least make an attempt to study the Bible. "My caseworker said, ‘That sounds exactly like what he needs.’

People had tried to share the Gospel with me in prison before, Dallas explains. But I was never ready for it. I always ignored them because I didn’t want to change the life I was living. As Dallas talks, he doesn’t act like someone who is excited to be the center of attention. He doesn’t find anything inherently exciting about his life. He speaks softly, with his head down or his eyes on something else. He seems tired.

Because he had no choice, he began attending Mission Bible studies and found himself moved by the message of the Gospel.

What I was doing wasn’t working, he says.

Dallas cut an imposing figure in the Mission, whose culture is not entirely unlike that of a prison. Fights are frequent. Theological discussions often turn violent, ironically. The longer he’d been there, however, the more likely it was that he could be found sitting in a common area reading Scripture or a book on theology.

I’ve read both of your books on the church, he says matter-of-factly. But I really want to read the book on Tyson. We talk about fighters for a long time. He remembers purchasing some of the Tyson pay-per-views with friends. We both love boxing for its violence and aggression, but also for its respect and self-control.

I’ve got some anger issues, he says, in what may be the understatement of the year. He still has outstanding warrants for aggravated assault in the court system, although sitting here today, that’s hard to imagine. The man in front of me is gentle, soft-spoken and, well, new.

In the words of Dallas . . .

So I graduated from the Lansing City Rescue Mission transformational program[11] on Thursday, and I’m adjusting to being back in society. Life is a lot different for me now; it seems surreal at times. After having an extreme amount of accountability and little personal authority over my schedule, being able to decide almost completely how I want to spend my time has been a drastic change. When I’m not working, I spend a lot of time walking around aimlessly and hanging out at the library. I have also learned quite a bit about temptation in the last couple of days. It’s everywhere.

This is the longest I’ve been sober since I started using and abusing. I gotta say it feels good to be sober, but it also feels kind of weird. Life is definitely much better now that I’m actually experiencing it with all my senses.

I have had to really rely on God to keep me strong lately. Being in the Mission, I was protected from a lot of things because of the ever-present authority of the Mission. But things are much different now; there is still authority around (I’m in transitional housing), but not like before. It’s been a huge test of integrity, but my relationship with God is steadily growing stronger. Every time I’m faced with a temptation or struggle, I am forced to turn to God because I know I don’t have the power on my own to make the right decision.

A good friend once gave me the best advice, and oddly enough it was in Scripture form: Therefore, my brothers, be all the more eager to make your calling and election sure. For if you do these things, you will never fall (2 Peter 1:10). I received this advice almost a year ago, and it has helped me immensely to become a stronger, God-glorifying man. I’m not perfect, but that Scripture has shown me just how important it is to seek after God and to mortify that old man. It’s also a promise from God that He will never abandon me, but I still have to work to live a righteous life.

Critical to this process are all my friends and church family. They’ve been there for me in my times of need, provided me solid biblical advice, and listened when I needed to talk. They have been—and continue to be—better friends than I deserve. I love them. I appreciate their genuine care for me.

Shortly into our latte-sipping session it occurs to me that neither Dallas nor I are really the latte-sipping types. I tell him, offhandedly, that I have a boxing ring in my basement left over from another book project. His eyes light up. Really? he asks. Really. And with that, we are waving good-bye to Art School Confidential behind the counter and are soon standing in the ring in the basement. Dallas has the gloves on and I’m wearing target mitts, moving around the ring and teaching him the basics of a difficult sport. Dallas has been in more street fights than he can remember, but he looks awkward and out of place in the ring. He’s having the time of his life learning how to throw a jab followed by a left hook, hearing the satisfying thwack of a punch well-thrown. That was sick, he says afterward. Sick being a compliment.

Other things that are sick (good): watching fight films in my basement; eating Kristin’s (my wife) cooking; hanging out with our family; hip hop;[12] our church; our pastor, Kevin DeYoung.

I find out later that Dallas is a talented artist. He has painted murals in the Mission based on scenes from Pilgrim’s Progress. And he’s great at working on cars. We hatch a plan. As we get to know each other, it’s clear that we’ll need a reason to get together besides just drinking coffee and sharing our feelings. Reading a book together is played—we both read a bunch on our own.

Let’s work on a car, I suggest. Again, eyes light up.

That would be sick, he replies.

I’m terrible at working on cars. In fact, check that, I’ve never worked on a car. I get nervous at Jiffy Lube when they ask me to pop the hood. I literally have to look around for the latch that does this. That’s how not-often I pop the hood, of my own volition. Dallas’s dad, in addition to getting him hooked on drugs and alcohol, was also an above-average mechanic, and before his death taught Dallas all he knew. Dallas knows his way around a vehicle, and what’s more, he likes doing this stuff.

I’ve also never had a car that’s remotely cool. The Official Car of University Reformed Church is a silver Honda Odyssey minivan with a patina of dried milk and Cheerio residue coating the interior. My own car, a Pontiac Vibe, has the same gross patina. While children are a blessing, there’s something patently uncool about being a parent. The stereotype bugs me.

We turn to eBay in our quest for a sick[13] ride. Our plan is to spend less than $2,000 on an old European convertible that we can restore in my garage. Since I’ll spend all the money upfront, the car will be mine, but Dallas will be able to use it as often as he likes. The idea of doing this makes me both excited and also sick[14] with anxiety. I can see failure written all over it.

It occurs to me, watching Dallas’s baptism in a small Lansing church just days after our first meeting, just how clearly God drew Dallas to himself. On paper this story is impossible. But in real life, it’s proof that despite its problems, church is good, preaching is important, Scripture has unbelievable transformative power, and—despite the fact that programs like the Lansing City Rescue Mission have unbelievably high failure rates—they work sometimes.[15]

I always cry at adult baptisms. I cried at my own. And it has nothing to do with the drama or lack of drama in a person’s testimony. My testimony is delightfully boring. I grew up in a household where both parents loved each other and loved

Reviews for Dallas and the Spitfire

[2wondery_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Whoops! I never finished reading this book and forgot I hadn't reviewed it. It had a fine enough premise, but it just lacked the spark that would make the exchanges and personal growth meaningful to me. Interestingly, it was the adult role-model who admitted to the most growth, with his assumptions rudely challenged by the young man he was supposedly mentoring.

[laholmes_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a short look at discipleship and how it works through the lens of a man working with a difficult subject. They restore a car together, encounter bumps along the way in their relationship. I think it's a good honest look at the realities of a discipling relationship. It keeps your attention pretty well, through stories and commentary.

[pastorbob_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book recounts the story of a relationship which occasions the discipleship of a young man through his first steps with God. The restoration of the car is a good idea as far as the telling of the story goes, though the book can get caught up more with answering questions that with just telling a story.

[olegalca · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I really liked the premise of this book: too often churches dictate what discipleship should look like and this book challenges the idea that you must sit over coffee and talk for an hour a week about your life and how God is working in it. Unfortunately, the book was really too short to delve into a true relationship. I wanted more.

I found that the footnotes really detracted as well from the story. Did the authors mean to write a story about a relationship or were they trying to educate us on different churches and their requirements? It was confusing.

I thought I would be moved emotionally by their tale but that wasn't too be. Perhaps the feedback they receive on these early reviewers books will spur them on to revamping the final work.

**I received a free advanced copy of this book in exchange for my review**

[tizzzielish · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Ted Kluck becomes friends with Dallas. They have very little in common, so rather than usual model of mentoring/discipleship, the mentoring takes place in the garage as they work together to restore an old car. Ted mentors Dallas regarding the walk of faith and Dallas mentors Ted regarding mechanics. They grow together and become friends. Dallas learns to walk with the Lord through temptations and challenges. The chapters alternate between those written first-person by Ted, and those written first person by Dallas.Not a how-to book, but presents a life-style model of mentoring.

[madcow299 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Not a great book. Just a story of two guys connected and exploring faith. Nothing revolutionary or ground breaking or even useful for doing men's ministry. No wonder I never saw this on any bookshelves.

[kpmartin_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Really enjoyed this. It's about "discipleship", which is one of those things that sounds good when you're at church, and sounds weird everywhere else. But it's really just about relationship... being friends... helping people... caring enough to go out of one's way... trying to provide guidance and accountability.The tag team writing style is similar to the "Why We're Not Emergent" book he co-authored; works pretty well. Nice, honest, natural-feeling tone throughout. Funny (enjoyed the footnotes).This isn't a how-to book, but an account. I think it's actually more useful because of that. I'm not left with the impression that "I should do that", but instead "that seems like a right kind of thing... well done... should I do something like that?"

[natashainconnue · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

It seems that semi-autobiographical books are popular in Christian writing lately. This book is a fairly typical example of what I would describe as Donald Miller-esque style, complete with self-depreciating humour and plenty of topic rabbit trails. This book has potential but was only a 2 1/2 for me because of the following issues:As light entertainment this book isn't bad, but to describe it as giving readers "a new model of men's ministry" requires considerable overselling. Doing life together is a good idea but definitely not a new one. The story is interesting but could be improved by eliminating some of the unexplained gaps between chapters. As others have mentioned, the excessive use of footnotes goes from somewhat interesting to really distracting part way through the book. I would prefer the information to either be within the paragraph (so it doesn't impede the flow of the story) or eliminated altogether.

[nettie195 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Dallas and the Spitfire is a warm and witty story of faith and friendship. A young Christian father agrees to disciple an ex-con and drug addict who has recently given his life to Jesus. This unlikely pair grows in their faith as together they restore an old Triumph Spitfire. Ted Kluck is a master at weaving humor and joy into the trials he faces as he juggles his family, his self doubt, his faith and this newly formed bond with Dallas. And Dallas openly shares his dark journey from a world of drugs and violence to finding new hope in Christ. These two men share their experiences and feelings with truth and humor. Their struggles could be the struggles of any one of us. I found this book to rejuvenate my faith in my God and my fellow man. It made me laugh and cry and pray and I was sorry to reach that last page.

[chgstrom · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Ted is discipling Dallas, a 21-year old former cocaine addict. They decide to restore an old Triumph Spitfire. This book discusses their faith and struggles. It had some interesting moments, but I wish we would have heard a little more about what Dallas was going through while he was at his schooling. It seemed to jump around a lot.

[gslykhuis · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

While I ejoyed reading this book, I never really felt like I got to know the main character, Dallas. I think the short length of the book, prevented the author from really communicate what made Dallas tick. With this lack, it became hard to care as much about Dallas as you would expect in a book like this. Also, the format was a bit distracting, with the constant bunny-trails on other topics. Overall, I still found it encouraging.

[kaykwilts · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Dallas is a new Christian who has had a rough life. He has a prison record, several homemade tattoos and has a history with hard drugs. Ted is a 30 something man who has been in church all his life. Ted does what the church worldwide should be doing. He disciples this young man and develops an unlikely friendship while restoring an old car. I only have a few criticisms of the book. Like someone else stated there are too many bookmarks which is a tiny bit distracting. Also, the author went off on a rabbit trail a couple of time. He devoted on whole page to the reason he loved the movie "The Fighter". He spent too much time enumerating the six reasons he liked that movie. Also the book is a little too short. I think a little more time should have elapsed between the time he mentored Dallas to the time he wrote the book. I would love to know how Dallas was doing like five years after going to the Fundie college. Was he able to maintain his Christian lifestyle? Did he meet the good Christian woman that would be his lifemate? With a little tweaking I could easily see this book as a five star book.

[lynncoulter · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Men--at least the ones I know--don't share their feelings easily. That's why freelance writer and author Ted Kluck says he didn't know where to start, when his pastor asked him to hang out with a new believer, a young, "tattooed, goateed kid" at his church.The kid, Dallas Jahncke, had a troubled past as an ex-con who'd used and sold drugs. He had no parents, and while their initial meetings were awkward and uncomfortable, Kluck admits, "I guess I felt like he needed us (Kluck and his family)." Besides, Kluck adds, he needed help with a broken down convertible, and Dallas proved to have many talents, including the ability to rebuilt carburetors and dismantle gearshifts.Klout's real hope, of course, was that he'd be able to share his faith in God and help Dallas stay clean. This book is the story of the journey they made together, toward an enduring friendship and a sincere love for Jesus.In his introduction, Klout says he wanted to craft a Christian book that guys wouldn't be embarrassed to read. I'm not a guy, but I think I can say that he's exceeded his goal. This is an honest, deeply-felt book that has just enough grease and gunk around the edges to make even the biggest macho-man consider coming alongside a fellow believer in need--and how that brother could fill his own life with grace and friendship.Highly recommended.

[gmathis_7 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I rarely trust Christian authors who promise me "five easy steps to..." or "surefire ways to..." It just doesn't work like that.Therefore, this honest and bumpy account of a regular guy, just trying to live the life God intended and trying to help a new Christian do the same, was refreshing, enjoyable, and engaging.Dallas, barely 20, has been used, abused, and incarcerated. Ted, suburban Michigan dad, takes him on, wondering whether he has the spiritual chops to be a mentor. Their friendship strengthens both of them and those of us who are along for the ride. The advance reader's copy that came to me was filled with footnotes, which to some readers are a little distracting, but if they make it to the final edition, don't miss them--they provide snort-milk-through-your-nose humor throughout.

[tammyphillips · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I just loved Dallas and the Spitfire by Ted Kluck and Dallas Jahncke. In this book, Ted tells of his experience fixing up an old car with a former cocaine addict, Dallas. Along the way, Ted is able to mentor and disciple Dallas. Through this story, we are able to witness the transformational work of the Holy Spirt in the lives of both Dallas and Ted. The best part about this book is the humor of a real, down-to-earth guy, who feels less than worthy to be discipling a guy from such difficult beginnings. I think I laughed as some point on every page. Ted is so honest and real in his delivery. He truly represents a guy who can live in this world without being of this world. I think that is what made him such an effective mentor to Dallas. And yet, it is also undeniably evident that the Holy Spirit was at work as well. The reader is given a pretty grusome picture of what trials and temptations were at work in Dallas' life. It is truly amazing what an addict has to overcome. I cannot believe that full recovery is possible without the power of the Holy Spirit. I highly recommend this book! It is a testiment to the effectiveness of discipleship through building relationships. It is an uplifting story of redemption, and it is an encouragement to Christians to be functioning members of the body of Christ, not merely spectators. I have never read anything by Ted Kluck before, but I am now a fan. I look forward to reading more from him in the future!

[jbizz79 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

First off, this is the first book that I have read from LibraryThing that I have actually laughed while reading. This book is a fun quick read that has some thought provoking parts. This book also has another first in that my wife read it as well. The book describes a discipleship relationship between Ted Kluck and Dallas Jahncke. It is not a normal discipleship relationship as Dallas brings a lot of baggage to the table with his history. Because of this, Ted and Dallas decide to work on a project together which is where the Spitfire comes in to the story. They work on restoring this car and in this context discipleship is occurring.Most Christians would be familiar with the current form of discipleship which involves the scheduled meetings in a coffee house. The conversation is somewhat forced and awkwardly confessional with a few guiding pointers thrown in. The issue that the authors raise with this model is that it does not involve the investment of lives. A better form of discipleship involves living life together and the investment of time. It’s a friendship that is open and honest. Ted Kluck has the gifted ability to spin words in a way that is both humorous and pointed especially when it comes the way that things are doine in the church today. Dallas Janhcke also writes about his spiritual journey and the spiritual truths that he is learning. I enjoyed this book and would recommend it as a nice anecdotal story that illustrates the strengths of this relational discipleship.

[jamilyn-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Dallas and The Spitfire by Ted Kluck and Dallas Jahncke is a refreshingly honest look at the ups and downs of Christian discipleship and relationships between men in today’s church. It seems to be written to a Christian audience, but I think anyone could benefit from this story of the ups and downs of friendships and how real they can be. The book is peppered with footnotes and parenthetical remarks, which occasionally are humorous, but are more often simply distracting. Apart from this, I absolutely loved the tone of the book and the openness of the authors‘ stories. So many “Christian” books are clinical and come across as fake in an attempt to clean up their own history. Kluck and Jahncke tell it like it is and its, funny, ugly, difficult, occasionally uncomfortable and completely wonderful. The reader can believe that they are flawed humans, struggling to achieve closeness with something greater than themselves. I wish the book was longer so I could have more time with these people and find out how the story continues.