August 11, 2009 Observation:
August 1 I celebrated my 20th birthday. You may find that strange inasmuch as I have a 44-year-old son. However, it was just 20 years ago August 1 that I had my accident at Laguna Beach and was born into a new way of life. For that reason I will always feel I have been privileged to celebrate two birthdays.
It is truly a miracle that I have lived 20 years, paralyzed and on life support. It is only because of the tender mercies of the Lord and Jo Anne's never-ending tender and loving care that I am still here and able to enjoy life in this state.
Recently I was visiting a good friend of mine who has been in the hospital and on life support for the past 2 1/2 months. As we were visiting, he needed a procedure performed on him by a respiratory therapist. When the respiratory therapist saw me, he was intrigued by my wheelchair and life support system. When he discovered I had been on life support for 20 years he was truly amazed. He told me that for many years he had worked with a number of young men on life support and that most of them had not lived more than a couple of years. He was astonished at my quality of life, that I could move about so well in my breath control wheelchair, that we could travel about in our modified van, and that I looked so happy and healthy. Of course we both attributed it to the incredible care Jo Anne has given me these many years.
Talking to this respiratory therapist and his reaction to me, made me realize how fortunate I am to still be here. Too often I am afraid I take life, the many miraculous times it has been saved, and my many blessings too much for granted. I don't spend a great deal of time thinking about my circumstances and very infrequently ever look at myself in the mirror. When I do, the thought always comes to me, "Jack, you are in pretty bad shape aren't you?" That kind of thinking, I have discovered, is a one-way road to nowhere.
My visit with the respiratory therapist and reaching the milestone of having lived 20 years on a ventilator, have caused me to do some serious reflecting.
Feelings of gratitude have welled up in my heart for the love I have felt from our Heavenly Father and from my family and friends. Family and friends have said things to me that are usually reserved for one's funeral service. I am grateful to have heard them while still alive though, because I do believe it is better to be seen and spoken to than to be "viewed" and talked about. I have never felt pitied by those who know me the best, which has been a great blessing for someone in my condition.
The other day my daughter in law, Kim, was helping Jo Anne get me dressed while we were on vacation in St. George. Recently called as a Relief Society President in her Ward, she was thanking me for letting her practice dressing the "dead." She had already been called upon to perform this service at her local funeral parlor and getting to help dress me was an unexpected blessing in helping her to become more expert in this aspect of her calling. It really made me feel as though I were still good for something!
Without the spiritual strength I have received from Scripture searching, prayer, and Jo Anne helping me with such "unwearyingness" I know the quality of my life would not nearly be what it is. However, I have discovered something else that has been a great blessing to me through these 20 years.
When I was first injured, I just felt that I wouldn't be able to do anything of any value for myself or others in my limited physical condition. Jo Anne made me believe that I still had something to offer to our family as well as to others. She prodded me, treated me as a "whole" person and challenged me to do things I initially would never have attempted without her encouragement.
With the advent of wonderful personal computers and superior voice recognition software I found I could still be creative, productive, and serve others in my own unique way. Jo Anne helped kindle a fire that still continues to burn within me to work hard each day and to be as productive as I can be.
Every morning when I awaken I can hardly wait to begin working on my computer. I always have something I am trying to accomplish and it gives great meaning and fulfillment to my life.
There are times I have felt, and been tempted to just vegetate, take it easy, (who could blame a poor paralyzed man on life support for doing that) and coast along, but thankfully have realized that coasting requires little effort and is usually down hill.
I think what I am trying to say was beautifully expressed by Robert Frost in his wonderful poem, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening." He was driving his buggy home one evening and in doing so had to pass by a stand of tall trees. It began to snow big beautiful flakes and all was quiet and peaceful. He was tempted to stop and just stay there -- maybe forever. And then he wrote, "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep."
I believe we are all tempted at times by our own version of "lovely, dark, and deep" woods that invite us to put our lives into neutral and just coast along. Fortunate is the person however, who realizes he has promises to keep and miles to go before he sleeps. It is in the keeping of those promises and struggling forward day by day and mile after mile that joy, peace, and fulfillment are ours.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
"If Rushton Can Do It -- Anyone Can Do It!"
Our son John recently returned from Germany where he finished a six-month deployment at a large air base and hospital complex. Wounded troops are flown there from Afghanistan and Iraq and after they are stabilized they are flown to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington, DC for specialized treatment.
As an ER doctor he was the head of a team consisting of him, a respiratory therapist, and an ER/trauma nurse. Almost every week they would be flown from Germany to Washington, DC with severely wounded young men. Their mission was to keep alive the wounded troops during the flight to Walter Reed Hospital.
He told me of two young men -- one barely 20 and the other in his late 20s who were blown up by an IED (improvised explosive device) in Afghanistan. The youngest of the two lost all four of his limbs, and the older man lost his two legs. The older soldier was grateful that he had just lost his legs as he compared himself to his friend. This is just the tip of the iceberg of what John has witnessed during his three years in the Air Force as an ER doctor.
As I contemplate his experience with these wounded troops I realize what a heavy price some individuals and their families are paying in their fight for freedom against these frenzied and misguided fundamentalist terrorists. I hope we can appreciate what they are doing for us as we go about our comfortable daily lives. We must never forget them or their predecessors who have fought so valiantly during the 20th century and on into the 21st century defending our freedom and wonderful way of life. May their sacrifices not now or ever have been offered up in vain.
As I have contemplated what John has been through and seen, it has embarrassingly called to mind my own puny contribution to the defense of our nation many years ago.
I was released from my mission to Central America in May of 1961. I immediately joined the Nevada Army National Guard to avoid the draft. I was sent to do my basic training at Fort Ord, California in January of 1962. When I went to Fort Ord I was a physical wreck. I had recently recovered from infectious hepatitis, which put me in a hospital in Guatemala City for 43 days. When I got up out of bed and out of the hospital I was so weak I could barely walk. In that weakened condition I finished out the last few months of my mission and when I arrived home I barely weighed 150 pounds, if that. I was pale and unable to do more than two or three push-ups at a time. I don't think I could do a sit up, and pull ups, hanging from a bar, were impossible. In that kind of shape I flew to San Francisco and was bused to Fort Ord to begin my basic training.
It was just my luck to be assigned to Co. B. 2-1. The company commander was a young man by the name of Lieutenant Squatriglia. The Army was his life. As my son Mike would say, he was an Army "Nazi." He was in great shape and even had muscles on his head. His uniform was spotless and so starched that you could have cut your hand by rubbing the creases on his pants. Even his underwear was khaki colored. He was an expert in jungle warfare and hand to hand combat.
The first day he met me, we were all standing in line waiting to go into the mess hall to eat lunch. He was standing at the door and as we approached him one by one, he would have us do as many push-ups as we could before entering and eating. I assumed the correct position and cranked out three great push-ups. To say the least, Lieutenant Squatriglia was less than impressed. He just knew that I could do more than I was doing and couldn't believe there could be anybody as weak as I appeared to be. From that day until the end of basic training he made sure that I was the last person to enter the mess hall to eat. He intensely disliked me! He didn't like anything about me. I wasn't "regular army" and he knew it. He knew that I was what they called a "six-month wonder." He took it upon himself to make my life as miserable as he could.
I, in turn, did everything I could do to get him upset. I don't know what it was inside of me but I just secretly enjoyed infuriating Lieutenant Squatriglia. When we marched, on purpose I marched a half step slower than everybody else with lieutenant Squatriglia right at my side counting the Cadence loudly into my ear.
When we had bayonet training he would stand in front of us and holler "What is the spirit of the bayonet?" We were supposed to holler back enthusiastically, "To kill, to kill!" Then he would scream at us, "What two kinds of bayonet fighters are there?" We were supposed to scream back, "The quick and the dead!" He would then scream back, "What kind are you?" We were to holler back, "The quick!" And then he would shout at us, "What kind are they?" We were to shout back, "The dead!" Then we were supposed to growl like tigers. Well, I just couldn't get into the spirit of the bayonet and would always be found at the back of the group not really shouting or growling. Lieutenant Squatriglia was well aware of this. It just killed him.
Lieutenant Squatriglia's greatest desire was for his company to do better than any other company at Fort Ord in the graded test that culminated our basic training. It was a series of 10 events with a possible 10 points on each event. I determined in my heart that I was going to get 100 percent on the graded test. Without Lieutenant Squatriglia realizing it I was beginning to put on weight and was also getting stronger through all the physical exertion and good food. I maintained a low profile however, and just tried to stay out of his way as best I could.
The day of the graded test came. My group's first event was at the rifle range. We had practiced shooting on a number of different days but now we were shooting to qualify in different categories, the highest being "Expert." You had to shoot Expert to receive the maximum 10 points in that particular event. The old M1 rifle we were using had a peep sight on it similar to the one on the rifle in "Quigly Down Under". For some reason it was just made for me. We were standing in foxholes with our rifles resting on a sandbag. Silhouette targets of men would pop up at different distances and I would squeeze the trigger and they would fall down almost every single time. It was just incredible. It was one of the most enjoyable activities in which I had ever participated. When the results came in, I was one of the few men in the company who had qualified as "Expert" on the rifle range.
I went from event to event earning the maximum number of points each time. One of the events, for example, was throwing a dummy hand grenade through a swinging tire -- 10 times. I put it through every single time. Another was crawling on your belly while cradling your rifle in your arms under a barb wire obstacle course in a specified amount of time.
Well, by the end of the day I knew that I had received 100% on every event. It took until evening for all of the results to be tabulated. When Lieutenant Squatriglia saw what I had done, he thought for sure that I had somehow cheated and had the scorekeepers double check all of my scores. When he finally realized that everything was in proper order he called the entire company of over 200 men out onto the parade ground in front of our barracks. In all of Fort Ord, in that particular cycle of basic training, there were only two men out of the several thousand that were there that had earned 100% on the graded test. Lieutenant Squatriglia called out my name and had me come and stand in front of the entire company. He told them that I had received 100% on the graded test and then said, "This just goes to show, men, that if Rushton can do it, anybody can do it!"
I have shared these experiences with you for a couple of reasons. I believe the Lord knew I wouldn't do so well in Korea, Vietnam, or the Middle East. He let me do my duty to my country at Fort Ord and then at the Presidio of San Francisco. Also, based on my experience at Fort Ord, I learned to be careful in judging others by their outward appearance. You can never be sure what an individual has done, can do, or especially what they have in their heart.
And then, truer words were never spoken than, "If Rushton can do it, anybody can do it!"
A number of people over the many years since my accident have said to me that there is no way they could do what I have done and endured. That is so false! We never know what we are capable of doing until put to the test. And believe me, "If Rushton can do it, anybody can do it!"
Dad/Grandpa/Dad
Friday, July 10, 2009
Contentment
Like all of you, I am sure, I have been inundated by media coverage regarding the death of Michael Jackson. He certainly seems to have been loved by many around the world. However, whether you loved him, hated him, or were indifferent, I think most people would agree that, at the time of his death, he seemed not to be a very happy and content human being. In fact, it seemed to me that he was quite miserable.
His death reminded me of the death of Elvis Presley back in 1977. One writer at the time said that Elvis got what he wanted and then didn't want what he got. And what did he want? It seems that he wanted fame and fortune which would bring him happiness. In his lifetime he accumulated more of that than most people could ever dream of. However, like Michael Jackson, Elvis was not content with his life and died unhappy and discontent.
For many years now I have pondered the question of what it takes for a person to be content with their lot in life. How much money, possessions, accolades, degrees, positions, and fame does it take for one to be content and at peace?
Those of you who know me well have heard me quote Paul's words to the Philippians. I have always found them very challenging on a personal level. Having spent his adult life testifying of Christ and being stoned, beaten with rods and whips many times, spending literally years in dungeons, being ship wrecked, and also having a "thorn in the flesh," some kind of ailment from which he was never cured, he was able to write to the Philippian saints: "... I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." [Philippians 4: 11 (emphasis added)]
In pondering Paul's words and the concept of being content with our lot in life, I believe that it is important to always remember the counsel given to us by Elder Neal A. Maxwell when he said: “... We can and ought to be content with the things allotted to us, being circumstantially content but without being self-satisfied and behaviorally content with ourselves." (3 Ne. 12:48; 27:27; Matt 5:48). (Neal A. Maxwell, May 2000 Ensign, 72)
I believe he was saying we must never fall into the trap of letting our outward circumstances limit or control our behavior and keep us from achieving our full potential.
If Paul is telling the truth about himself, and I believe he was, what had he learned about life that apparently had eluded Michael and Elvis and so many others as well?
He gives us an insight into the source of his contentment when he says, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." [Philippians 4:13]
It seems to me that Paul is underscoring and emphasizing the words the Savior spoke to his apostles just prior to entering into the Garden of Gethsemane the last night of his mortal life. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you, not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled neither let it be afraid." [John 14: 27]
The world will never be able to give us the peace, contentment and joy that the Savior can. It is a gift to all who will come unto Him with faith and trust and who will be true to the sacred covenants they make with Him.
Alma taught his son, Corianton, that "wickedness never was happiness." And the reason for it is that "... they [the wicked] have gone contrary to the nature of God; therefore, they are in a state contrary to the nature of happiness." [Alma 41:10-11]
Samuel, the great Lamanite prophet, said a similar thing to the wicked Nephites when he announced to them that the days of their probation were passed, their destruction was made sure, and the reason: "... ye have sought for happiness in doing iniquity, which thing is contrary to the nature of that righteousness which is in our great and Eternal Head." [Helman 13:38]
Whenever we are in a state contrary to the nature of God we simply cannot be truly happy or content, experiencing the peace that only the Savior can give to us. Sadly, millions of Heavenly Father's children have lived out their lives never learning that fundamental truth about life.
I had to learn this truth the hard way. 20 years ago when I was injured, for about the following five years I was anything but content with my lot in life and filled with peace. Almost daily my heart was troubled and afraid. About two years into my injury Jo Anne persuaded me to read a book written by Dr. Arnold D. Bissner entitled "Flying without Wings." I wasn't ready for the book. I just couldn't believe many of the things about which Dr. Bissner was writing. Instead of motivating me it actually discouraged me. However, 20 years later, in a very few sentences, he has captured the essence of how I now feel. Dr. Bissner contracted polio as a young adult, finished medical school, and practiced psychiatry the remainder of his life, all from a wheelchair. He wrote: "My disability has taught me a lot and continues to do so. When I was young and physically strong to live life from a wheelchair was unthinkable. When I was disabled it was unacceptable. Gradually over the years however, not only has it become acceptable but I have found it to be satisfying as well."
Can someone paralyzed from the neck down and living each day on life support find that state acceptable and even satisfying? Strange as it may seem it is the truth! Paul was right! What once seemed to be impossible for me has become a reality. We can do all things through Christ which gives us the strength to go forward regardless of our circumstances because of his gifts of peace, contentment and joy. There is no other way! He is the way!
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
His death reminded me of the death of Elvis Presley back in 1977. One writer at the time said that Elvis got what he wanted and then didn't want what he got. And what did he want? It seems that he wanted fame and fortune which would bring him happiness. In his lifetime he accumulated more of that than most people could ever dream of. However, like Michael Jackson, Elvis was not content with his life and died unhappy and discontent.
For many years now I have pondered the question of what it takes for a person to be content with their lot in life. How much money, possessions, accolades, degrees, positions, and fame does it take for one to be content and at peace?
Those of you who know me well have heard me quote Paul's words to the Philippians. I have always found them very challenging on a personal level. Having spent his adult life testifying of Christ and being stoned, beaten with rods and whips many times, spending literally years in dungeons, being ship wrecked, and also having a "thorn in the flesh," some kind of ailment from which he was never cured, he was able to write to the Philippian saints: "... I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." [Philippians 4: 11 (emphasis added)]
In pondering Paul's words and the concept of being content with our lot in life, I believe that it is important to always remember the counsel given to us by Elder Neal A. Maxwell when he said: “... We can and ought to be content with the things allotted to us, being circumstantially content but without being self-satisfied and behaviorally content with ourselves." (3 Ne. 12:48; 27:27; Matt 5:48). (Neal A. Maxwell, May 2000 Ensign, 72)
I believe he was saying we must never fall into the trap of letting our outward circumstances limit or control our behavior and keep us from achieving our full potential.
If Paul is telling the truth about himself, and I believe he was, what had he learned about life that apparently had eluded Michael and Elvis and so many others as well?
He gives us an insight into the source of his contentment when he says, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." [Philippians 4:13]
It seems to me that Paul is underscoring and emphasizing the words the Savior spoke to his apostles just prior to entering into the Garden of Gethsemane the last night of his mortal life. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you, not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled neither let it be afraid." [John 14: 27]
The world will never be able to give us the peace, contentment and joy that the Savior can. It is a gift to all who will come unto Him with faith and trust and who will be true to the sacred covenants they make with Him.
Alma taught his son, Corianton, that "wickedness never was happiness." And the reason for it is that "... they [the wicked] have gone contrary to the nature of God; therefore, they are in a state contrary to the nature of happiness." [Alma 41:10-11]
Samuel, the great Lamanite prophet, said a similar thing to the wicked Nephites when he announced to them that the days of their probation were passed, their destruction was made sure, and the reason: "... ye have sought for happiness in doing iniquity, which thing is contrary to the nature of that righteousness which is in our great and Eternal Head." [Helman 13:38]
Whenever we are in a state contrary to the nature of God we simply cannot be truly happy or content, experiencing the peace that only the Savior can give to us. Sadly, millions of Heavenly Father's children have lived out their lives never learning that fundamental truth about life.
I had to learn this truth the hard way. 20 years ago when I was injured, for about the following five years I was anything but content with my lot in life and filled with peace. Almost daily my heart was troubled and afraid. About two years into my injury Jo Anne persuaded me to read a book written by Dr. Arnold D. Bissner entitled "Flying without Wings." I wasn't ready for the book. I just couldn't believe many of the things about which Dr. Bissner was writing. Instead of motivating me it actually discouraged me. However, 20 years later, in a very few sentences, he has captured the essence of how I now feel. Dr. Bissner contracted polio as a young adult, finished medical school, and practiced psychiatry the remainder of his life, all from a wheelchair. He wrote: "My disability has taught me a lot and continues to do so. When I was young and physically strong to live life from a wheelchair was unthinkable. When I was disabled it was unacceptable. Gradually over the years however, not only has it become acceptable but I have found it to be satisfying as well."
Can someone paralyzed from the neck down and living each day on life support find that state acceptable and even satisfying? Strange as it may seem it is the truth! Paul was right! What once seemed to be impossible for me has become a reality. We can do all things through Christ which gives us the strength to go forward regardless of our circumstances because of his gifts of peace, contentment and joy. There is no other way! He is the way!
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Jacob's counsel on priorities
Many years ago, about 1976 I think, I did one of the most foolish things I have ever done. This was the year that Volkswagen produced and began selling the Rabbit. Their advertising campaign was so ingenious and persuasive I just knew I had to have this car. At that time in our lives we were always just scraping by financially. So when Jo Anne reluctantly gave her permission for me to go ahead, I bought the most stripped-down model that was available. I think it had a radio, but no air-conditioning, no tinted windshields, and only two doors. It was sort of a red color -- it should have been a lemon color. At the time we had four children, an Indian placement student, and a dog. We would take long trips with the seven of us and the dog somehow stuffed into the Rabbit with our luggage strapped on top. Today Jo Anne and I would have been jailed for violating the seat belt law and for pre-meditated child abuse as well. Come to think of it though, the Rabbit had no seat belts.
I spent hours at the Volkswagen dealership trying to get them to fix an eternal series of problems. I think Germany got back at us for winning World War II by manufacturing the Rabbit. At times I would wonder who really won the war.
One of the happiest days of my life was the day I traded in the Rabbit for a new car. Now don't think badly of me or question my intelligence or sanity, but guess what I traded for? That's right, a Volkswagen Vanagon! Some of us never seem to learn. As always, balancing ourselves precariously on the edge of financial disaster, I bought the most stripped-down Volkswagen Vanagon available. It had no tinted windows, no radio, no air-conditioning, and no carpeting on the floor. It did have some utilitarian rubber mats that you could hose down, which was a plus when going to the beach. The bottom half of the van was a sick lemon color and the top was a kind of cream color. We took a number of summertime trips to Utah in that van, with Jo Anne and the kids almost dying from heat prostration. It was always a roll of the dice whether we would make it to Las Vegas without a problem. Once we had to spend a week in St. George while the repair people at the very busy Volkswagen repair establishment ordered parts that must have had to be shipped from Berlin. I imagined seeing Hitler standing by the van, giving me an evil smile and growling, "Gotcha!"
I have spent good money on other worthless things during my lifetime and always get a little bit of a guilty conscience when I read Jacob's counsel regarding our priorities: "Wherefore, do not spend money for that which is of no worth, nor your labor for that which cannot satisfy..." [2 Nephi 9:51]
Not only am I guilty of spending "money for that which is of no worth," but also my labor at times for that which "cannot satisfy." On one occasion before I became wiser and paralyzed -- in retrospect it might have been a blessing to have become paralyzed sooner -- Jo Anne talked me into wallpapering the little bathroom just off the master bedroom. It was a tiny room, which was encouraging at first glance. However, the old wallpaper had to be stripped off and it didn't seem to want to come off. I sweated, strained, and cussed (just a little bit). Finally I got it off, but then had to prepare the walls to receive the new wallpaper. I thought I had measured the first roll of wallpaper correctly, but in trying to hang it I realized I had cut it too short -- and wallpaper won't grow. The paste began to harden as did my heart toward this tiny bathroom and the supposedly "easy wallpaper job." Hour after hour went by and then I began to think, which is always dangerous when performing manual labor. How many people would ever come into our master bedroom and then into the tiny bathroom? Who were we trying to impress any way? Couldn't there be a better use of my time than laboring on something that seemed to be so useless and unsatisfying? Jo Anne, painfully aware of my lack of talent as a handyman and fix it guy, came to my rescue and finished the job herself. That was painful as well, because I heard about it for some time afterwards. I wonder why I never felt comfortable using that bathroom.
We live at a time when it is so easy to spend money for that which is of no worth and our labor (time) for that which cannot satisfy in any worthwhile or lasting sense. Several years ago President Hinckley, in speaking to the young men in the general priesthood meeting, cautioned them to: "... Please, please ... not fritter away your time or your talents in an aimless pursuit. If you do so, it will lessen your capacity to do worthwhile things. I believe it will dull your sensitivity.... and as you look back, you will be disappointed with yourselves." [Gordon B. Hinckley, May 2005, Ensign.]
Given the electronic age we are living in, it is not difficult to know what President Hinckley was talking about.
Jacob went on to say in verse 51 of 2 Nephi 9, "... and come unto to the Holy One of Israel and feast upon that which perisheth not, neither can be corrupted."
Jacob has beautifully told us how to order our priorities in life. I realized within just days after my accident 20 years ago the truthfulness of Jacob's teachings regarding our priorities. I realized almost immediately that whatever material possessions I had, or whatever degrees or honors of men I had received, meant absolutely nothing. The only thing that mattered at all was the relationships I had with my wife, my family, my good friends, and the Lord. Before then and since then I have tried to "come unto the Holy One of Israel, and feast upon that which "perisheth not, neither can be corrupted." It has made all the difference in the world. I haven't always been successful, but I do know what my priorities should be, and as I seek to follow Jacob's counsel, my life has truly been blessed.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
I spent hours at the Volkswagen dealership trying to get them to fix an eternal series of problems. I think Germany got back at us for winning World War II by manufacturing the Rabbit. At times I would wonder who really won the war.
One of the happiest days of my life was the day I traded in the Rabbit for a new car. Now don't think badly of me or question my intelligence or sanity, but guess what I traded for? That's right, a Volkswagen Vanagon! Some of us never seem to learn. As always, balancing ourselves precariously on the edge of financial disaster, I bought the most stripped-down Volkswagen Vanagon available. It had no tinted windows, no radio, no air-conditioning, and no carpeting on the floor. It did have some utilitarian rubber mats that you could hose down, which was a plus when going to the beach. The bottom half of the van was a sick lemon color and the top was a kind of cream color. We took a number of summertime trips to Utah in that van, with Jo Anne and the kids almost dying from heat prostration. It was always a roll of the dice whether we would make it to Las Vegas without a problem. Once we had to spend a week in St. George while the repair people at the very busy Volkswagen repair establishment ordered parts that must have had to be shipped from Berlin. I imagined seeing Hitler standing by the van, giving me an evil smile and growling, "Gotcha!"
I have spent good money on other worthless things during my lifetime and always get a little bit of a guilty conscience when I read Jacob's counsel regarding our priorities: "Wherefore, do not spend money for that which is of no worth, nor your labor for that which cannot satisfy..." [2 Nephi 9:51]
Not only am I guilty of spending "money for that which is of no worth," but also my labor at times for that which "cannot satisfy." On one occasion before I became wiser and paralyzed -- in retrospect it might have been a blessing to have become paralyzed sooner -- Jo Anne talked me into wallpapering the little bathroom just off the master bedroom. It was a tiny room, which was encouraging at first glance. However, the old wallpaper had to be stripped off and it didn't seem to want to come off. I sweated, strained, and cussed (just a little bit). Finally I got it off, but then had to prepare the walls to receive the new wallpaper. I thought I had measured the first roll of wallpaper correctly, but in trying to hang it I realized I had cut it too short -- and wallpaper won't grow. The paste began to harden as did my heart toward this tiny bathroom and the supposedly "easy wallpaper job." Hour after hour went by and then I began to think, which is always dangerous when performing manual labor. How many people would ever come into our master bedroom and then into the tiny bathroom? Who were we trying to impress any way? Couldn't there be a better use of my time than laboring on something that seemed to be so useless and unsatisfying? Jo Anne, painfully aware of my lack of talent as a handyman and fix it guy, came to my rescue and finished the job herself. That was painful as well, because I heard about it for some time afterwards. I wonder why I never felt comfortable using that bathroom.
We live at a time when it is so easy to spend money for that which is of no worth and our labor (time) for that which cannot satisfy in any worthwhile or lasting sense. Several years ago President Hinckley, in speaking to the young men in the general priesthood meeting, cautioned them to: "... Please, please ... not fritter away your time or your talents in an aimless pursuit. If you do so, it will lessen your capacity to do worthwhile things. I believe it will dull your sensitivity.... and as you look back, you will be disappointed with yourselves." [Gordon B. Hinckley, May 2005, Ensign.]
Given the electronic age we are living in, it is not difficult to know what President Hinckley was talking about.
Jacob went on to say in verse 51 of 2 Nephi 9, "... and come unto to the Holy One of Israel and feast upon that which perisheth not, neither can be corrupted."
Jacob has beautifully told us how to order our priorities in life. I realized within just days after my accident 20 years ago the truthfulness of Jacob's teachings regarding our priorities. I realized almost immediately that whatever material possessions I had, or whatever degrees or honors of men I had received, meant absolutely nothing. The only thing that mattered at all was the relationships I had with my wife, my family, my good friends, and the Lord. Before then and since then I have tried to "come unto the Holy One of Israel, and feast upon that which "perisheth not, neither can be corrupted." It has made all the difference in the world. I haven't always been successful, but I do know what my priorities should be, and as I seek to follow Jacob's counsel, my life has truly been blessed.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Snuffy Smith
I have been listening to a wonderful history about the Eighth United States Air Force stationed in England and flying bombing missions over Germany during World War II. I think I enjoy the book so much because of my good friend, Allen Rosza. As a young 20-year-old he was a pilot of one of the flying fortresses making bombing runs over Germany. Allen went on to make the Air Force his career and was a Lt. Colonel and in line to become a General when he was called to serve as a mission president and took an early retirement. After his mission, he had served as a stake president a regional representative, and then Temple president of the Los Angeles Temple. We became good friends because of my work with CES and because I taught his football playing triplet sons in an Institute class at Santa Ana College.
When I was in a rehabilitation hospital for six months following my injury, Allen was a frequent visitor and spent many hours at my bedside encouraging me and giving me blessings. My son John would spend most Sundays with me so his mom could stay home with the girls and not worry about me. Our favorite thing to do was to get Allen to tell us war stories about his experiences of flying as a very young man over Germany. Believe me, it was exciting and John and I loved it.
The title of the book, in case you are interested, is "Masters of the Sky" by Donald L. Miller. It is an in depth history of the Eighth Air Force and the part it played in helping to win World War II. If you don't like history don't read this book, but if you do you will be well rewarded for the time invested. It is really a heart wrenching history of gallant young men from all walks of life who gave their lives to save the world from the maniacal dictator, Hitler. The mortality rate in the Eighth Air Force was far higher than in any other branch of the service during the war. One of the crew members on one of the flying Fortresses was 27 years old and was considered by his mates to be an old man. Most of the men, including the pilots, were in their late teens or very early 20s. Many things in this history have touched my heart, but especially the desire these young men had to help and protect, and save the lives of fellow crew members. Each bomber had a crew of 10 men and their great motivation in battle was not to bomb the Germans, or shoot down the enemy fighter planes, but to work together to save one another's lives and hopefully make it back to England in one piece. The spirit of these bomber crews could well have been that of Alexander Dumas' Three Musketeers, "One for all and all for one." Sadly, so many never made it back to England or back to the United States either.
One incident from the book that was very inspirational to me was the story of "Snuffy Smith." Now, those of you that are old enough to remember will know that Snuffy Smith was a hillbilly cartoon character that appeared in newspapers for decades. The Snuffy Smith of the Eighth Air Force was actually a young man named Maynard H. Smith. All of his fellow airmen considered him to be a real "wingnut" and always messing up everything he tried to do.
It was during his first mission, on May 1, 1943 that Staff Sergeant Smith, who was assigned to the ball gun turret, helped save the lives of six of his wounded comrades, put out a blazing fire and drove off wave after wave of German fighters. The target of the mission was the U-boat pens on the Bay of Biscay. The submarine pens were heavily defended by antiaircraft guns and the entire area was nick-named "flak city" by the airmen. After successfully dropping their bombs on the target they turned toward home. It was at that time that Staff Sergeant Smith's bomber was hit, rupturing the fuel tanks and igniting a massive fire in the center of the fuselage. What "Snuffy Smith" did next earned him the Congressional Medal of Honor.
From the official Medal of Honor citation we read:
"For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action above and beyond the call of duty. The aircraft of which Sgt. Smith was a gunner was subjected to intense enemy antiaircraft fire and determined fighter aircraft attacks while returning from a mission over enemy-occupied continental Europe on 1 May 1943. The aircraft was hit several times by antiaircraft fire and cannon shells of the fighter aircraft, 2 of the crew were seriously wounded, the aircraft's oxygen system shot out, and several vital control cables severed when intense fires were ignited simultaneously in the radio compartment and waist sections. The situation became so acute that 3 of the crew bailed out into the comparative safety of the sea. Sgt. Smith, then on his first combat mission, elected to fight the fire by himself, administered first aid to the wounded tail gunner, manned the waist guns, and fought the intense flames alternately. The escaping oxygen fanned the fire to such intense heat that the ammunition in the radio compartment began to explode, the radio, gun mount, and camera were melted, and the compartment completely gutted. Sgt. Smith threw the exploding ammunition overboard, fought the fire until all the firefighting aids were exhausted, manned the workable guns until the enemy fighters were driven away, further administered first aid to his wounded comrade, and then by wrapping himself in protecting cloth, completely extinguished the fire by hand. This soldier's gallantry in action, undaunted bravery, and loyalty to his aircraft and fellow crewmembers, without regard for his own personal safety, is an inspiration to the U.S. Armed Forces." [The information above comes from the book, Masters of the Sky, and Wikipedia]
Maynard Smith was one of the fortunate few to survive the bombing raids over Germany and lived into his early 70s.
This incident is actually one of many that could be told of young men putting their lives on the line to save a comrade. They knew they had to be a cohesive team and concerned about one another as much as they were about themselves or they had no chance of survival.
Of course the same is the case with all of us. We simply cannot navigate this "flak field" called mortality without the support and aid of our family and friends.
"Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up." [Ecclesiastes 4: 9-10]
Casey Stengel, famous manager of the New York Yankees, modestly admitted to reporters after winning his first World Series, "I couldn't have done it without my players!"
Jo Anne, like "Snuffy Smith" has put her life on the line for me. I modestly admit, like Casey, that I could not have done it without her and other family members and many friends. I'm sure we all have "Snuffy Smith's" in our lives to have been able to come as far as we have.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
When I was in a rehabilitation hospital for six months following my injury, Allen was a frequent visitor and spent many hours at my bedside encouraging me and giving me blessings. My son John would spend most Sundays with me so his mom could stay home with the girls and not worry about me. Our favorite thing to do was to get Allen to tell us war stories about his experiences of flying as a very young man over Germany. Believe me, it was exciting and John and I loved it.
The title of the book, in case you are interested, is "Masters of the Sky" by Donald L. Miller. It is an in depth history of the Eighth Air Force and the part it played in helping to win World War II. If you don't like history don't read this book, but if you do you will be well rewarded for the time invested. It is really a heart wrenching history of gallant young men from all walks of life who gave their lives to save the world from the maniacal dictator, Hitler. The mortality rate in the Eighth Air Force was far higher than in any other branch of the service during the war. One of the crew members on one of the flying Fortresses was 27 years old and was considered by his mates to be an old man. Most of the men, including the pilots, were in their late teens or very early 20s. Many things in this history have touched my heart, but especially the desire these young men had to help and protect, and save the lives of fellow crew members. Each bomber had a crew of 10 men and their great motivation in battle was not to bomb the Germans, or shoot down the enemy fighter planes, but to work together to save one another's lives and hopefully make it back to England in one piece. The spirit of these bomber crews could well have been that of Alexander Dumas' Three Musketeers, "One for all and all for one." Sadly, so many never made it back to England or back to the United States either.
One incident from the book that was very inspirational to me was the story of "Snuffy Smith." Now, those of you that are old enough to remember will know that Snuffy Smith was a hillbilly cartoon character that appeared in newspapers for decades. The Snuffy Smith of the Eighth Air Force was actually a young man named Maynard H. Smith. All of his fellow airmen considered him to be a real "wingnut" and always messing up everything he tried to do.
It was during his first mission, on May 1, 1943 that Staff Sergeant Smith, who was assigned to the ball gun turret, helped save the lives of six of his wounded comrades, put out a blazing fire and drove off wave after wave of German fighters. The target of the mission was the U-boat pens on the Bay of Biscay. The submarine pens were heavily defended by antiaircraft guns and the entire area was nick-named "flak city" by the airmen. After successfully dropping their bombs on the target they turned toward home. It was at that time that Staff Sergeant Smith's bomber was hit, rupturing the fuel tanks and igniting a massive fire in the center of the fuselage. What "Snuffy Smith" did next earned him the Congressional Medal of Honor.
From the official Medal of Honor citation we read:
"For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action above and beyond the call of duty. The aircraft of which Sgt. Smith was a gunner was subjected to intense enemy antiaircraft fire and determined fighter aircraft attacks while returning from a mission over enemy-occupied continental Europe on 1 May 1943. The aircraft was hit several times by antiaircraft fire and cannon shells of the fighter aircraft, 2 of the crew were seriously wounded, the aircraft's oxygen system shot out, and several vital control cables severed when intense fires were ignited simultaneously in the radio compartment and waist sections. The situation became so acute that 3 of the crew bailed out into the comparative safety of the sea. Sgt. Smith, then on his first combat mission, elected to fight the fire by himself, administered first aid to the wounded tail gunner, manned the waist guns, and fought the intense flames alternately. The escaping oxygen fanned the fire to such intense heat that the ammunition in the radio compartment began to explode, the radio, gun mount, and camera were melted, and the compartment completely gutted. Sgt. Smith threw the exploding ammunition overboard, fought the fire until all the firefighting aids were exhausted, manned the workable guns until the enemy fighters were driven away, further administered first aid to his wounded comrade, and then by wrapping himself in protecting cloth, completely extinguished the fire by hand. This soldier's gallantry in action, undaunted bravery, and loyalty to his aircraft and fellow crewmembers, without regard for his own personal safety, is an inspiration to the U.S. Armed Forces." [The information above comes from the book, Masters of the Sky, and Wikipedia]
Maynard Smith was one of the fortunate few to survive the bombing raids over Germany and lived into his early 70s.
This incident is actually one of many that could be told of young men putting their lives on the line to save a comrade. They knew they had to be a cohesive team and concerned about one another as much as they were about themselves or they had no chance of survival.
Of course the same is the case with all of us. We simply cannot navigate this "flak field" called mortality without the support and aid of our family and friends.
"Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up." [Ecclesiastes 4: 9-10]
Casey Stengel, famous manager of the New York Yankees, modestly admitted to reporters after winning his first World Series, "I couldn't have done it without my players!"
Jo Anne, like "Snuffy Smith" has put her life on the line for me. I modestly admit, like Casey, that I could not have done it without her and other family members and many friends. I'm sure we all have "Snuffy Smith's" in our lives to have been able to come as far as we have.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Darwin Awards
As many of you know I get around in what is called a "Breath Control Wheelchair." Christopher Reeve -- Superman -- had one exactly like mine. Some call it a "Sip and Puff" wheelchair because that is how you control it. A small tube inserted into my mouth allows me to operate all the functions the chair is capable of: moving forward, backward, left, right, the speed in which these maneuvers are made, and also tilting and reclining – is by sipping or puffing with different intensities through the tube. Wheelchair technology has improved over the years and hardly anyone now uses a breath control wheelchair. If a person can move his head or neck at all there is more advanced technology available. Because I have zero movement in my neck, my only alternative is to sip and puff. Orange County, in Southern California, is heavily populated, but our wheelchair provider tells us that, as far as they know, I have the only sip and puff wheelchair in the entire area. Thankfully, there are still technicians who know how to fix the chair -- I hope I don't outlive them all.
I am in my third generation chair now and each new chair is better and safer than the previous one. However, if I am not careful I can still run into things, over things, and off of stairs and curbs. The problem is the tube I sip and puff into. If I inadvertently let my tongue cover the little hole in the tube while sipping or puffing, the chair has a violent reaction. It starts going at warp speed and zigs sharply to the left or zags just as sharply to the right. Thankfully, as soon as I remove my tongue from the little hole, I am in control once again. I always have to remember to be alert, careful, take nothing for granted, and not get lulled into a sense of false security while driving about. I am always an accident just waiting to happen.
I hate to admit it, but I have left my mark on a number of people and places through "bad driving." In the Los Angeles Temple one day I was motoring quite rapidly toward the men's dressing room when I carelessly covered the driving tube with my tongue and zigged into the wall. The matron of the temple was standing right by me as I left two gaping holes in one of the most conspicuous places in the entire temple. She assured me that I was still welcome anytime I wanted to return and was most gracious, but I just felt terrible. I have zigged and zagged in the San Diego Temple as well as the Newport Beach Temple and have left my mark on both of these beautiful edifices. The kind temple presidencies and temple workers tell me to not let this deter me from my temple attendance, but at the same time I notice they are a tad nervous when they see me show up.
I think one of the worst things I did was run over my aged mother's foot. She became quite upset for some reason and used the "D" word in referring to me. I was not offended by her use of that word believing that she was justified in speaking to me in that way.
Another potential disaster was the day I was tooling down the hallway in our Stake Center. Without warning, a door suddenly opened and a huge seeing-eye dog with his blind master entered the hallway. The dog, upon seeing me rolling towards his master at top speed, went ballistic trying to save him from impeding danger. The blind man, in shock and total confusion, wanted to know what was happening. Fortunately, I was able to stop before running over the dog and knocking this good brother down. Jo Anne quickly explained the situation and assured him that all was well. I can't recall Jo Anne saying anything comforting or kind to me -- I wonder why? Thankfully, no harm was done and we didn’t get sued. I could just see the headlines, “Paralyzed man in wheelchair driving at a reckless speed runs over blind man.”
I probably shouldn't write what I'm going to next. I'm sure Jo Anne will submit my name and some of my escapades to the following website I recently found on Google called "A Darwin Award." It is "A Chronicle of Enterprising Demises or near demises honoring those who improve the species...by accidentally removing themselves from it!" [Google]
For example, one incident that almost received the top "Darwin Award" a few years ago is as follows: two young men living in Wisconsin went ice fishing for the first time. It was bitterly cold and they were ill prepared for this event. They had all their gear in the back of a beautiful brand-new red truck, along with their faithful dog. Although they had a special saw to make a hole in the ice they thought it would take too long and so they got the brilliant idea of blowing a hole in the ice with a stick of dynamite. One of the young men lit the stick of dynamite and threw it as far as he could. The dog, thinking this was a fun game ran after it, retrieved it, and started running back toward the truck as fast as he could. They tried to wave the dog off, but the more they waved and shouted the faster he came toward them. Just as he got to the truck he slipped, slid under the truck, and the dynamite exploded. The only happy thing about this story, I'm afraid to report, is that the two young men were able to save themselves -- wish I could say the same about the truck and the dog.
I believe that all of us have probably done something to qualify for a Darwin Award sometime during our lives. Just as I have to be constantly on the alert when driving my wheelchair so as not to injure myself or somebody else, I believe this principle applies to all of us in a physical way.
The Scriptures teach us however, that: "And the spirit and the body are the soul of man." [D&C 88:15] I believe there could be given spiritual "Darwin Awards" for less than intelligent spiritual or near spiritual demises, as well as for the physical. The Lord also has counseled: "... care not for the body, neither the life of the body; but care for the soul, and for the life of the soul. And seek the face of the Lord always, that in patience ye may possess your souls..." [D&C 101: 37-38]
When we become careless in our spiritual drive through life we can zig or zag off the narrow path, and in the process, destroy ourselves and possibly many loved ones as well. To not read our Scriptures, have our personal prayers, pay our timing, keep the Sabbath day holy, and not to protect our minds from the potential poison that can come from the media is to qualify for a "spiritual Darwin Award."
Just as I always have to remember to be alert, careful, take nothing for granted, and not get lulled into a sense of false security while driving my wheelchair, so I must also be equally as careful in my spiritual drive through life.
"And finally, I cannot tell you all the things whereby ye may commit sin; for there are divers ways and means, even so many that I cannot number them. But this much I can tell you, that if ye do not watch yourselves, and your thoughts, and your words, and your deeds, and observe the commandments of God, and continue in the faith of what ye have heard concerning the coming of our Lord, even unto the end of your lives, ye must perish. And now, O man, remember, and perish not." [Mosiah 4: 29-30]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
I am in my third generation chair now and each new chair is better and safer than the previous one. However, if I am not careful I can still run into things, over things, and off of stairs and curbs. The problem is the tube I sip and puff into. If I inadvertently let my tongue cover the little hole in the tube while sipping or puffing, the chair has a violent reaction. It starts going at warp speed and zigs sharply to the left or zags just as sharply to the right. Thankfully, as soon as I remove my tongue from the little hole, I am in control once again. I always have to remember to be alert, careful, take nothing for granted, and not get lulled into a sense of false security while driving about. I am always an accident just waiting to happen.
I hate to admit it, but I have left my mark on a number of people and places through "bad driving." In the Los Angeles Temple one day I was motoring quite rapidly toward the men's dressing room when I carelessly covered the driving tube with my tongue and zigged into the wall. The matron of the temple was standing right by me as I left two gaping holes in one of the most conspicuous places in the entire temple. She assured me that I was still welcome anytime I wanted to return and was most gracious, but I just felt terrible. I have zigged and zagged in the San Diego Temple as well as the Newport Beach Temple and have left my mark on both of these beautiful edifices. The kind temple presidencies and temple workers tell me to not let this deter me from my temple attendance, but at the same time I notice they are a tad nervous when they see me show up.
I think one of the worst things I did was run over my aged mother's foot. She became quite upset for some reason and used the "D" word in referring to me. I was not offended by her use of that word believing that she was justified in speaking to me in that way.
Another potential disaster was the day I was tooling down the hallway in our Stake Center. Without warning, a door suddenly opened and a huge seeing-eye dog with his blind master entered the hallway. The dog, upon seeing me rolling towards his master at top speed, went ballistic trying to save him from impeding danger. The blind man, in shock and total confusion, wanted to know what was happening. Fortunately, I was able to stop before running over the dog and knocking this good brother down. Jo Anne quickly explained the situation and assured him that all was well. I can't recall Jo Anne saying anything comforting or kind to me -- I wonder why? Thankfully, no harm was done and we didn’t get sued. I could just see the headlines, “Paralyzed man in wheelchair driving at a reckless speed runs over blind man.”
I probably shouldn't write what I'm going to next. I'm sure Jo Anne will submit my name and some of my escapades to the following website I recently found on Google called "A Darwin Award." It is "A Chronicle of Enterprising Demises or near demises honoring those who improve the species...by accidentally removing themselves from it!" [Google]
For example, one incident that almost received the top "Darwin Award" a few years ago is as follows: two young men living in Wisconsin went ice fishing for the first time. It was bitterly cold and they were ill prepared for this event. They had all their gear in the back of a beautiful brand-new red truck, along with their faithful dog. Although they had a special saw to make a hole in the ice they thought it would take too long and so they got the brilliant idea of blowing a hole in the ice with a stick of dynamite. One of the young men lit the stick of dynamite and threw it as far as he could. The dog, thinking this was a fun game ran after it, retrieved it, and started running back toward the truck as fast as he could. They tried to wave the dog off, but the more they waved and shouted the faster he came toward them. Just as he got to the truck he slipped, slid under the truck, and the dynamite exploded. The only happy thing about this story, I'm afraid to report, is that the two young men were able to save themselves -- wish I could say the same about the truck and the dog.
I believe that all of us have probably done something to qualify for a Darwin Award sometime during our lives. Just as I have to be constantly on the alert when driving my wheelchair so as not to injure myself or somebody else, I believe this principle applies to all of us in a physical way.
The Scriptures teach us however, that: "And the spirit and the body are the soul of man." [D&C 88:15] I believe there could be given spiritual "Darwin Awards" for less than intelligent spiritual or near spiritual demises, as well as for the physical. The Lord also has counseled: "... care not for the body, neither the life of the body; but care for the soul, and for the life of the soul. And seek the face of the Lord always, that in patience ye may possess your souls..." [D&C 101: 37-38]
When we become careless in our spiritual drive through life we can zig or zag off the narrow path, and in the process, destroy ourselves and possibly many loved ones as well. To not read our Scriptures, have our personal prayers, pay our timing, keep the Sabbath day holy, and not to protect our minds from the potential poison that can come from the media is to qualify for a "spiritual Darwin Award."
Just as I always have to remember to be alert, careful, take nothing for granted, and not get lulled into a sense of false security while driving my wheelchair, so I must also be equally as careful in my spiritual drive through life.
"And finally, I cannot tell you all the things whereby ye may commit sin; for there are divers ways and means, even so many that I cannot number them. But this much I can tell you, that if ye do not watch yourselves, and your thoughts, and your words, and your deeds, and observe the commandments of God, and continue in the faith of what ye have heard concerning the coming of our Lord, even unto the end of your lives, ye must perish. And now, O man, remember, and perish not." [Mosiah 4: 29-30]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Monday, April 27, 2009
Living on the Edge
Things have been very quiet and rather humdrum at our house for some time. A number of years ago our youngest daughter Jackie said to her mother, "If dad were "normal" like everyone else life would be so boring!"
Well, last week I decided to bring a little excitement back into our lives. Our three married daughters, a daughter-in-law, and eight of our sixteen grandchildren came to our home in Tustin and Jo Anne and I went with them to a nice park for a picnic. We had Subway sandwiches, cookies and chips and root beer -- life just doesn't get much better than that!
The sun was shining brightly but it was cold and I had a black poncho on to protect me from the chill in the air. As long as I faced the sun, I was warm and happy, much like a toad sitting on a hot rock out in the desert.
Facing the way I was; however, I couldn't see the kids playing on the playground equipment and so I decided to re-position myself, even though it meant turning my face away from my friend, "Mr. Sun."
My eyesight isn't very good and as I turned toward the playground area it looked to me like there was no drop-off or barrier between the sidewalk I was on and the playground area. To my surprise, there was a drop-off from the sidewalk to the sandy area where the kids were playing. I hit it at such an angle that my wheelchair began to tip over on its left side, of course with me in it. I resembled a pregnant elephant that not very gracefully, had to lie down on her side rather quickly. If you were to assign style points to my tipping over, on a scale from zero to 10, you may have given me a one, but that would have been generous.
Two of the girls saw me literally "bite the [dust] sand" and their screams would have raised the dead. Jo Anne, from her vantage point, could only see a big black blob lying in the sand and then was able to make out my features and realized the black blob was me.
When my face was finally settled into the sand and I realized I was still breathing, any panic I had quickly disappeared. I have always said "If you can just breathe, everything else in life is pretty much just icing on the cake."
Well, there I was, at least 450 pounds of dead weight -- I hate to say that but it's true -- lying on my side in the sand. Jo Anne, always practical, felt there was no way they could get me up so she commenced to dial 911. My daughters, daughter in law, some of the bigger grandkids, and three or four moms that were at the park with their kids tried to push me and the chair upright. Their first effort was unsuccessful but the second effort, spurred on by massive doses of adrenaline now pumping through their bodies, was very successful as these women got that chair with me in it upright and out of the sand. Whoever said women are the "weaker sex" should have been at the park that day to realize how false that statement really is.
And so, I made my contribution to the picnic by turning it into a very exciting and memorable event. Who said I wasn't good for anything? I must admit being a bit offended at being called a "black blob" by my wife, but it was an apt description.
I can't tell you how many times I have driven up to the "edge" of a drop-off in my wheelchair only to be miraculously stopped before tipping off onto my face. I know I can't see well and have promised Jo Anne to stay as far away from the edge of the sidewalk as I can, and to never drive anywhere without somebody walking in front to show me the safe way.
Because of our agency, if we choose to do so, we can live our lives on the very edge of physical or spiritual disaster. One false move and we are over the edge and must suffer the consequences of our actions. How wise it is to stay away from the edge of physical or spiritual disaster following those who know the "safe way."
And what if we do plunge off the edge; is all lost? I don't think so! David teetered on the edge of spiritual disaster and then plunged off into an abyss of misery. I have often wondered when David quit reading his scriptures and praying regularly. As he quit doing these things he got too close to the edge and invited disaster into his life. However, even David's disaster taught him a great lesson about the love of the Savior in his life. "I waited patiently for the Lord and he inclined unto me and heard my cry. And he has also brought me up out of an horrible pit, out of the mire in clay, and has set my feet on a rock and has put a new song in my mouth." [Psalms 40:1-3]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Well, last week I decided to bring a little excitement back into our lives. Our three married daughters, a daughter-in-law, and eight of our sixteen grandchildren came to our home in Tustin and Jo Anne and I went with them to a nice park for a picnic. We had Subway sandwiches, cookies and chips and root beer -- life just doesn't get much better than that!
The sun was shining brightly but it was cold and I had a black poncho on to protect me from the chill in the air. As long as I faced the sun, I was warm and happy, much like a toad sitting on a hot rock out in the desert.
Facing the way I was; however, I couldn't see the kids playing on the playground equipment and so I decided to re-position myself, even though it meant turning my face away from my friend, "Mr. Sun."
My eyesight isn't very good and as I turned toward the playground area it looked to me like there was no drop-off or barrier between the sidewalk I was on and the playground area. To my surprise, there was a drop-off from the sidewalk to the sandy area where the kids were playing. I hit it at such an angle that my wheelchair began to tip over on its left side, of course with me in it. I resembled a pregnant elephant that not very gracefully, had to lie down on her side rather quickly. If you were to assign style points to my tipping over, on a scale from zero to 10, you may have given me a one, but that would have been generous.
Two of the girls saw me literally "bite the [dust] sand" and their screams would have raised the dead. Jo Anne, from her vantage point, could only see a big black blob lying in the sand and then was able to make out my features and realized the black blob was me.
When my face was finally settled into the sand and I realized I was still breathing, any panic I had quickly disappeared. I have always said "If you can just breathe, everything else in life is pretty much just icing on the cake."
Well, there I was, at least 450 pounds of dead weight -- I hate to say that but it's true -- lying on my side in the sand. Jo Anne, always practical, felt there was no way they could get me up so she commenced to dial 911. My daughters, daughter in law, some of the bigger grandkids, and three or four moms that were at the park with their kids tried to push me and the chair upright. Their first effort was unsuccessful but the second effort, spurred on by massive doses of adrenaline now pumping through their bodies, was very successful as these women got that chair with me in it upright and out of the sand. Whoever said women are the "weaker sex" should have been at the park that day to realize how false that statement really is.
And so, I made my contribution to the picnic by turning it into a very exciting and memorable event. Who said I wasn't good for anything? I must admit being a bit offended at being called a "black blob" by my wife, but it was an apt description.
I can't tell you how many times I have driven up to the "edge" of a drop-off in my wheelchair only to be miraculously stopped before tipping off onto my face. I know I can't see well and have promised Jo Anne to stay as far away from the edge of the sidewalk as I can, and to never drive anywhere without somebody walking in front to show me the safe way.
Because of our agency, if we choose to do so, we can live our lives on the very edge of physical or spiritual disaster. One false move and we are over the edge and must suffer the consequences of our actions. How wise it is to stay away from the edge of physical or spiritual disaster following those who know the "safe way."
And what if we do plunge off the edge; is all lost? I don't think so! David teetered on the edge of spiritual disaster and then plunged off into an abyss of misery. I have often wondered when David quit reading his scriptures and praying regularly. As he quit doing these things he got too close to the edge and invited disaster into his life. However, even David's disaster taught him a great lesson about the love of the Savior in his life. "I waited patiently for the Lord and he inclined unto me and heard my cry. And he has also brought me up out of an horrible pit, out of the mire in clay, and has set my feet on a rock and has put a new song in my mouth." [Psalms 40:1-3]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
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