Becoming A Child Again

Within our world, too many times we see children as mouths to feed, diapers to change and pretty much a drain of resources and time.  In Jesus’ day, it was much the same.  How many times when growing up did you hear the statement, “Children are to be seen and not heard!”  In this kind of world, children have no say in what happens to them.  They are totally dependent upon adults for everything, including food, shelter, and clothing.  

During Jesus’ day, the disciples were pushing children and their parents away.  Jesus upon seeing this was greatly disturbed by the adult’s actions.  He told his disciples and others nearby who were keeping the children from him to stop and let them come near. Matthew 18:2 tells us that Jesus called the little children to him and then looked up to the adults nearby and said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.  Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.  And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”  This is how Jesus saw children, and not necessarily how we as adults see them.  He not only viewed children this way, he asked that we become like them.  When children play, they many times mimic adults in their games.  It is a child’s form of work, but with the fun factor included.  This does not mean that we as adults should play all day and walk away from responsibility, but that we look at our surroundings through new eyes.  

You have heard some individuals say that they haven’t worked a day in their lives because they have enjoyed the work that they do.  Somehow, many of us adults have forgotten how to have fun, and at the same time accomplish the tasks before us.  So much of the time, we go through the day and look at it as drudgery all the while waiting for the weekend to have fun, or for that matter, even until retirement.  When the time for fun is allowed by us to take place, we have been in the trenches of despair with our jobs and lives for so long that when this time comes, we have completely forgotten how to have fun.  

Many times, adults look at the sadness in their lives and blame it on their circumstances such as jobs, location, or even those people around them.  I believe Jesus is trying to tell us that life is more than seeking the elusive rainbow around the corner.  Many times, it isn’t what a child has that makes them happy, it is what is before them that they see as the potential for happiness. Taking our eyes off of what might be, to that of seeing what is, and finding joy in our surroundings.  If we take the time to watch children and how they meet the day, perhaps we as adults can learn from them.  William Wilberforce was a person with great influence in the British Parliament and was influential in gaining the freedom for African slaves in England. As influential as Wilberforce was, he would leave a meeting of prominent men to run out and play with his children when they beckoned him.  This confounded his peers very much, but over time Wilberforce’s example helped other influential lawmakers to see another perspective towards children, their value and importance. 

In this time of restrictions and confinement, perhaps we too can learn from our children and rediscover life through the eyes of a child.  “Father, help us to see our lives as you do, so that we may live a completed life filled with joy, excitement, and with the heart of a child.”

Leadership In A Time Of Crisis

During the Civil War Abraham Lincoln worked directly with the military on a daily basis.  He quickly found that generals who were good in peacetime were not always the ones who brought victory on the battlefield.  Striving to find those that could lead, Lincoln searched for a general who could promote positive leadership as well as one whom he could work with.  Eventually, he found that man in General Ulysses S. Grant.  Grant had won the war in the Western front and now was asked to take command of the whole army in the East where the heaviest battles were taking place.  He instilled in his men the belief that they could win, and Grant quickly removed those that proved to be ineffective and replaced them with men who could show the attributes that Grant was looking for.  Eventually the war was won by these same men.  

During World War II men who could get the job done were promoted very quickly.  Dwight D. Eisenhower who just a few years earlier was the adjutant to General Douglas McArthur.  As Eisenhower worked with and for General McArther, Eisenhower watched and learned from him.  Eisenhower took  from McArthur the ideas that worked for him personally as a leader, and put those aspects that Eisenhower saw as less than stellar about General McArthur off to the side.  Eisenhower became his own man and he himself chose men that possessed the same attributes as himself.  Eisenhower did not object to removing men from leadership as did Lincoln and Grant before him.  The situation demanded it and he could not cotyle, politicize, or sympathize with poor leadership.  One situation that Eisenhower was tasked with was to remove a general who waited too long for what (this general deemed as necessary for victory) re-enforcements to arrive when invading central Italy by the sea. By waiting, this general waited too long and the German divisions were allowed to escape to the North, forcing the American and British to fight them again, and this time on the German’s terms.  This was a costly mistake that costs many hundreds of lives and extended the Italian campaign by many days and weeks.  His delayed actions proved fatal for many G.I.s.

Today we are facing a crisis much like our great leaders have had in the past.  Rather than being fearful, our leadership must be decisive, and individuals must act promptly.  Mistakes are bound to be made, but by wavering in decision making, many, many lives will be lost due to ineffective leadership.  Decisiveness is crucial, but also good decision making is important.  Truly good leaders do not surround themselves with "yes" men, but those men and women who are allowed to disagree, those that have ideas that might be contrary to their leader.  Without the ability to do this, subordinates cannot share perspectives that might be better than their respective leader.  One leader once said, “I surround myself with a leadership team who challenge me to think outside the box of my conventional ways!”  Good leaders must also show to their constituents that they are confident in getting the job done, and they in turn must instill that confidence in those they lead.  Whether they are in education, business, law enforcement, or the military, these same skills still apply.  

During the Great Depression, American citizens were hungry for more than just food, they wanted hope as well.  During this time, President Roosevelt began his “Fireside Chats” over the radio.  Weekly, President Roosevelt would update American citizens on the programs that he newly initiated that would help them with their jobs, food, and communities.  This one event told the American people that their leader cared about them, and was not somewhere in an ivory tower unaffected by their collective hardships.  This too is another trait of great leadership.  

Just before the invasion of Europe, General Eisenhower knew that he would be sending many thousands of lives into harms way and many would not make it back home to their loved ones.  Eisenhower decided to walk among his men listening to their individual stories, all the while encouraging them and thanking these individuals for their willing sacrifices in the challenges that they would soon face in the coming days, weeks and months ahead. These men needed to know that their sacrifices were not in vain and that those who led these men cared about them and believed in them.  Eisenhower’s visit to these men strengthened their weary hearts, gave them hope, and instilled in them that their efforts were not in vain. 

Now is the time for our nation and the world to pray for great leaders. We need those who understand the people they lead. Leaders who care about their challenges and who are willing to sacrifice for them.  When Israel was wanting a leader, God allowed the Israelites to choose the leader that they thought would lead them like the rest of the world leaders.  They chose Saul who was tall, strong and handsome.  In the end, he turned out to be selfish, arrogant, a coward, and a defeatist.  When God could stand his failing leadership no more, he appointed his prophet Samuel to choose another.  Samuel was sent to the house of Jesse to make God’s leadership selection.  Samuel looking at the 7 oldest brothers who were tall and handsome thought God would definitely choose one of them.  He was incorrect in his thinking.  Exasperated, Samuel then asked their father, "Jesse, do you have any other sons?” Jesse said that there one other son, “My youngest who is out taking care of the sheep.”  Samuel eventually stood before David looking down on his short stature and youthful smile and asked God, “Is this the one you have chosen?”  God said, “Yes! Man looks at the outside while I look at the heart!”  David turned out to be the greatest leader that Israel had ever had.  We likewise need to give this prayer to God, “Please Lord, give us the leaders that 'you' have chosen.”

He Is Waiting

In Matthew 14:13 we see Jesus being told that John the Baptist was just beheaded.  Scripture recorded that Jesus left everyone and went to a lonely place by himself.  One has to ask, why did he do that?  What is obvious to everyone reading this scripture is that Jesus must have been overwhelmed with grief and emotion.  We can only guess that Jesus needed to talk to someone who could offer him support with his grief, someone who could love him and give Jesus the answers that he sought after.  We can only surmise that Jesus was talking to his father, the one person that could help him with his feelings of grief and loss.  

I know that collectively we are all facing loss right now.  Whether it be with work, income loss, separated from family and friends, perhaps even the death of a family member.  Every one of us needs to talk to someone who will listen, advise, love and understand them.  We know that children often learn by watching adults in how they navigate through life’s challenges.  For us, as God’s children, we can follow our Father’s example in how he met life’s adversities by going to the person that could comfort, listen, lead and love him.  Jesus told us that he wants us to come to him, as recorded in Matthew 11:28-29.  “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.  For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

For those that do not know what a “yoke” is used for, it is a wooden collar placed upon two oxen.  The yoke keeps both oxen in tandem with one another.  If the load is too heavy for one ox, the stronger of the two will take up the slack and pull harder for the weaker of the two.  My father once told me that they had two plow horses on the farm that were yoked together and did all the heavy work side by side throughout their lives.  Dad said that when one was weak, the other horse would help by taking up the slack and pulling harder.  These two horses did every job on the farm together, but one day one of the horses grew ill all the while the other horse refused to leave his side.  He refused to leave him for they were the closest of friends.  By staying near to the sick horse, the other horse’s presence helped ill horse to get well sooner.  Each horse with their actions told my father that their bond of brotherly love was stronger than the challenges that they faced.  

Jesus wants to help us with our burdens.  He desires to take the yoke and support us. He has said that he will never leave us, and wants to help us.  James 4:8 says: “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you.”  He is waiting patiently for you because he loves you.

Coffee

A couple of days ago Anne and I were shopping at Natural Grocery in Fargo.  It was late and I was hoping to get some coffee beans that I had been waiting for.  I had stopped a couple of times before, but they either were sold out or the shipment was delayed.  I was feeling frustrated when coming up to the cashier when she asked me if I had found everything I needed.  I responded by giving a curt answer, “No I hadn’t!  I have stopped by a couple of times before and one of the workers had told me that the breakfast blend coffee would probably be in today’s shipment, but I see that it was not.”  She patiently thought for a second and asked me if I would be interested in the coffee near where I was standing.  I responded by saying that I had bought the pre-ground coffee yesterday but was hoping I would find the unground Breakfast Blend coffee in the back.  Feeling frustrated, I paid her for the groceries, and I was busy packing them up when I noticed Anne (my wife) speaking quietly to the same checkout.  When in the car I asked her what she was discussing with her.  I thought maybe Anne was talking about how to get the coffee when it came in.  Anne said that she was asking the checkout how she was doing and if she had a rough day.  I then asked Anne what the young lady’s answer was.  Anne said, “She told me that the day was filled with patrons rushing in to buy goods and fearing that they would not find what they felt they needed.  I then asked her how she was doing.  The young lady told me that she was very tired and was looking forward to heading home.”  

I then realized that I was one of those frustrated and panicked customers who was making this young lady’s day that much harder.  I realized that I was not concerned about her, but only my own needs.  But, God in his loving patience was not finished teaching me yet.  The next day as I was walking from my car to the coffee shop, I stopped to listen to a loud-sounding car coming up to the stoplights.  My first reaction was that of frustration since I detested what I called the “Bugle Mufflers.”  “Another kid with his loud car again!”   I turned to look and spotted the car, and the first thing I thought after looking at the car was to say to myself, “That muffler is worth more than the car!”  It screeched to a stop at the stoplight and what happened next made me halt in my tracks.  I saw the young man reach over to the passenger window and hand a man some money.  As the loud car took off, I could see that a man was standing at the stoplight with a sign asking for money to help him buy food.  I then turned to watch the broken-down loud car take off into the distance in a cloud of smoke.  I could then smell that he had belts in his engine compartment that were slipping and burning badly.  Growing up with a father who as mechanic, I knew that his belts were about to break from the excessive slipping that came from almost being worn out.  I realized that he had to drive fast to keep the engine going, since it was dying from a lack of electrical charge from his alternator belt slipping. He wasn’t showing off, he was just holding on with his broken-down car.   It then came to me that this young man was giving to the homeless man on the corner money that was very much needed in order to keep his vehicle going, or for that matter money to live on.  He was giving to the man on the corner out of his need, not his excess.  

As I turned to go my thoughts went back to Jesus in the book of Mark, chapter 12:44 Jesus was talking to his disciples about giving and trusting God.  After watching people put money into the offering box, Jesus from a distance pointed out an old lady putting two copper coins into the offering.  Spreading his hands to all the wealthy giving large amounts of money and then to the old widow, he said, “They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything--all she had to live on."  I knew that a woman’s income in those days came from a husband who worked outside the home while the wife worked within the home.  If the man died, it was left up to the grown children to help the parent.  This lady obviously had no one to provide for her, but she gave non-the-less.  

Thinking about this further, I came to realize that this lady depended on God to meet her needs.  

In examining myself, I was upset about not having a luxury, “special ground coffee.”  I was angry over someone else hoarding the coffee when I myself was wanting to do the same thing. In my selfish anger, I failed to notice the checkout who was having a very rough day. The next day I was still thinking of my own needs when I came to see the homeless man who needed money for survival, food to exist. On the other hand, the young man in the broken-down car was giving out of his need while I was angry over his noisy car, thinking at first that all he wanted was for people to watch his bugle exhausted noisy vehicle.  I was judging him wrongly, and God was showing me in his gentle way that people are not always what they appear to be.  He was revealing to me that putting others first is not always easy when scarcity is present, but God does not abandon us.  I am coming to realize that God promises to take care of us, and he knows our needs before we do.  Needless to say, sitting in the coffee shop, I drank my coffee in silence and pondered further what God was going to teach me.  

Last Day of Fishing As A Child

Last Day of Fishing As A Child 

Each of us has a last day of something, whether it be golfing, driving, knitting or even fishing. For me it was fishing. I remember that day with all my heart; it was not one of my best of efforts or for that matter, outcomes. 

I was 10 years old and I had many adventures with trying to catch fish of varying types and sizes. As a child growing up, I would learn from the older and more experienced fishermen, that is, when to fish and where to fish. Many would say, “It is best to fish when it rains!” And yet others would say, “The best time is just before it rains!” Well for me, I usually did catch something, but many times, it was not fish. It usually was something like a cold instead. Over time, I felt that I did become an expert in that arena (cold setting), but it did not deter me from my ultimate goal, and that was in enjoying myself on the river. 

With fishing it becomes a game of chance at times.  I found though at the ripe age of ten that being a good fisherman one had to have the best of everything.  I just knew that if I could afford the best fishing equipment, I would be the envy of many a fisherman and perhaps might even become a famous angler one day, (locally that is).  With that in mind I was more than motivated, and I was determined with all my heart in catching the “Really big one!” To reach this lofty goal, I set out for myself the target of having the best rod, the best real, the best bait, and of course the best place to find my huge monster. 

In obtaining this great feat, I needed to work, and work was is in fact what I did.  I walked so many bean fields that after a while all I saw were bean rows upon bean rows, even in my dreams.   Each day I put up with the agony of wet pants (and underwear) from the early morning dew.  Not only did I walk around squishing like a fish from being so wet, I endured raw and bloody hands from pulling so many weeds that were many times bigger than myself. This though did not deter me from purchasing my ultimate weapons.  After a few weeks of pulling weeds, I had earned enough to buy the newest reel that was just introduced, the Zebco 202. I was finished with open reels that were always getting tangled up into knots. One always had to spend as much time or more in untangling the knotted string on your reel as that of fishing. The new Zebco 202 all but eliminated this problem. The one challenge that would soon visit my dreams though was one that my new rod and real could not fix, that of arrogance, pride and stupidity. Nothing was said in the instructions on my new fishing equipment in how to overcome that challenge.

The day finally arrived for me to purchase my dream.  I walked into the store and asked for their newest pieces of fishing gear. I bought the lightest and strongest pole for my reel. It was made of fiberglass and it had a black base with red stripes on it. Really cool to look at with almost a racing stripe finish that would be the best and coolest looking fishing rod around. Lastly, I was going to use a new rubber lure that looked just like a wiggling worm. I was done with getting up in the middle of the night, walking down to Ashley Park in the rain trying to catch night crawlers which

were forced to come to the surface due to fact that their dens were full of water. I could identify with them completely about having to be where I didn’t want to be, “Out in the rain!” After about an hour of catching slimy night crawlers, I was totally soaked and ready to head home, take a shower and crawl into bed so I could get forty winks to keep from falling asleep in class the next day. This part of my life was now over, and I was on the road to easy street. I would now have stringers full of fish with no more effort in catching them than just having to breathe. 

Saturday was the day that would change my future in fishing. I would catch the big ones with ease and the older fishermen would praise me for getting the fish of a lifetime. I could also describe to them how easy it was with my new rod and reel. I just knew that they would be envious, and I imagined that the Coast-to-Coast store would have a great barrage of senior fishermen rushing into their store wanting the new Zebco 202 with the racing stripe fishing rod just like mine. 

My day started out, as did every Saturday at our house, except this morning I was the first one up. My brother Mike (12 years old) wanted to go along to see how the rod and reel would turn out, so I let him tag along. Normally it was the other way around, being the big brother, Mike would set the pace and inform me what I needed to do to spend time with him. I would always eagerly accept his terms just to spend even an hour with my big brother, but today the tables were turned. I don’t think my chest could have puffed out any further than it did at that moment when leaving the house while heading to the dam. My brother always fished next to the power plant where the waters were deep and calm, but today I saw huge Northern Pike leaping the swift currents right in the middle of the dam where the current was very fast. Throwing all caution to the wind, I was determined that this was the place for me, and I just knew I would catch one of those big ones for sure.  But first, I had to walk back over the bridge and back down the other riverbank to get out into the rapids below the dam.  When leaving my brother, I could see the apprehension on his face.  I wanted to rack it up to him not wanting me to show him up by me bringing home the bigger fish, but in the back of my mind I knew it was something more.  Regardless, I wasn’t going to allow my conscious to dictate terms to my superior intellect.  As I climbed up the riverbank to my brightest future and destiny, I happened to see an older fisherman down river from where I was. My first thought was, “I will have an impartial witness to see my superior fishing skills and witness how the new state of the art rod and reel really work.”  

In looking back at that time in my life, I can see now how the proud are humbled, and that one doesn’t need to hold a lofty place in society to learn humility.  But, for the moment, that lesson was lost due to the fact it was deeply hidden in the recesses of my mind, and the only way I was going to let it out was by the total surrender of my ego.  Humility and myself were not on speaking terms at the moment, but I would soon learn that this future state of mind would patiently wait for me in the wings.  

When entering the swift current below the damn I realized it was going to be more than a challenge.  I could see my brother watching me from a distance and I was determined to prove to him that I was the better fisherman.  That thought alone kept me going when reason should have told me that I was being a total nincompoop for even attempting this idiotic venture into futility.  Non-the-less, I wasn’t going to let common sense dictate to me what I could and couldn’t do.  In my mind I was past the point of reason and I was now entering into the realm of pure commitment.  I had just passed the point of no return; all that was left to do was to carry out my duty in following through with my heart.  So, I kept heading into the deep churning current

straight ahead. I intently focused my eyes on the giant Northern Pike jumping way out in the distance so as to ignore the alarms going off in my head.  As I slowly slid my shoes ahead onto the cement platform that was buried in almost a foot and a half of thundering current, my thoughts of getting the big one shrouded my reason and I kept moving along into oblivion.  It took me about ½ hour to reach my goal, but the problem of stability was the greatest challenge facing me at the moment.  The rapid current kept me sliding towards the edge of the cement platform where the buried boulders were lying in wait to swallow little boys up like myself.  Then a revelation came to me in a flash, “Just go ahead and slide off the platform and try to wedge one leg in the huge rocks and one on top of a sunken boulder!”  So, I let the current slide my feet to the edge of the precipice where I was fortunate enough to land on a slimy boulder.  I dropped one leg in front of submerged rock while perching the other on top of this slippery boulder.  This is working perfectly, now I would catch the fish of a lifetime.  At that moment I looked up and saw the senior fisherman watching me as well as my brother Mike.  I just knew they thought, “There is a young man with guts!”  Later though, my brother would share with me what he really thought, and you can put the puzzle pieces together by what he did in fact say to me.

Not to be undone by danger all around, I cast my line out into the churning cauldron of froth, hoping that these struggling giants would be more interested in my lure than any Immersed parts of my anatomy.  Noticing the force of the current against my weakening thighs and hips led my fears to start rising to unbelievable heights, and now they were reaching unseen levels in my brain.  Then it happened, a giant Northern jumped out of the water right in front of me and my fears suddenly became reality.  At that moment, reason didn’t seem to make its home in my mind.  I became so frightened that I felt that I would become more appealing bait than what was at the end of my line.  If that was not enough, my foot felt something move under me.  

I knew that monsters were hiding in the depths of the water, because I had just met one a month earlier.  My brother Ken and I were fishing in the deep waters by the power plant when I lost my best lure to something that seemed to pull the opposite direction when trying to draw it in.  In desperation, I pulled with all my strength and it started to move toward me.  When I thought I had the catch of a lifetime, my line snapped, and I went flying backward on to the rocks behind me.  My fleeting moment of rapture was gone, and my heart dropped into the depths of despair when I thought of losing such an expensive lure. I was determined not to squander my chances on another attempt at this lost adventure, so I waded into the deep and then dove down to find my expensive lure.  Gasping for breath, I exploded up out of the water with a portion of a fence on my shoulder.  It had been lying on the bottom of the river.  A storm must have drug it down stream with the raging currents and dropped it in the calm deep lagoon by the power plant.  When dragging it to the shore, I found that it took all of my strength.  Once safely on the sandy beach, I realized that I had retrieved the haul of a lifetime.  Lures and hooks were seen gleaming in the sun like many diamonds on a ring.  At that moment, greed was my friend.  I very delicately picked off each beautiful lure and put my treasure into my tackle box.  I looked at my brother, smiled, and then threw the fence section back into the water. He asked me what I did that for, and I told him that many other fishermen will soon catch their lures on this wire fence like I did, and I will then have another treasure trove in a very short time. All I have to do is dive back down to retrieve the fence once again.  I told Ken that I could get such a catch of lures as to be set for life.  He looked at me and went, “Hmm!” He then walked away shaking his head, but the way I dealt with a guilty conscious was to look at what I could gain from my treasure, all the while trying to ignore my better angel who was already pricking my conscious fearlessly.  Obstinacy soon won out though, but my better angel was not done with me yet.   About a week later I dove into the spot where I had dropped the fence section earlier.  I finally found it after feeling the muddy bottom for what seemed like an eternity.  I had forgotten how long I had been under water when all of a sudden I realized my head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen.  I launched off the muddy river bottom pushing with all my might to the surface, just barely making it to where air greeted my lungs with ecstasy.  Realizing my victory was just a few strokes away, I turned my head for shore, but as I rotated my body around, I looked with horror at what was in front of me.  It was the biggest snapping turtle I had ever seen.  

Its head was about 4 inches across, and its mouth was gaping wide open with the top portion of its lip shaped into the biggest hook that I had ever seen.  The shell was about two feet across and I knew if he or she did not want me in its water, that I could soon be missing a body part.  I quickly dropped the fence into the deep as I swam parallel to the shore and then veered twenty feet down stream, before heading to the safety of the shoreline.  Nature had a way of helping me to see that my desires for wealth needed to be tweaked into another plan for later on.  And now I could see that using advanced technology in fishing, I would soon be famous and sought after, it was my Eldorado, that of catching the biggest Northern in the river, that is if it didn’t catch me first.  

Feeling something move under me made me think that perhaps the boulder that I had planted my foot on was not a boulder after all.  Was it indeed the giant snapping turtle that I had encountered a month earlier?  If it was then I might be finding that I would have to go the rest of my life without a leg, or worse!  Panic rose in my brain and all I could think of was to try to get to the safety of the cement platform to my right.  But how could I do that since this moving boulder or snapper was moving downstream in the opposite direction?  I then made a giant leap up the ragging current hoping to reach the cement platform of safety.  But, by doing so I lost my footing and went headfirst into the swift current.  The next thing I knew was that I could not hold on to my rod and reel and hope to stay above the water, so I let my dreams disappear into the white rapids all around me.  Thinking I now could swim towards the dam with both hands free I soon found that I was being taken down river.  Before I knew it, I was about 75 yards downstream and still moving very quickly away from the dam.  My arms started to feel like lead and the weight of my clothes and boots were pulling me under.  In panic I looked towards shore and saw the elderly fisherman hollering at me with all his lungs could muster, “Swim downstream and then swim to shore!” It didn’t make sense to me, but I went against my better judgment (which got me into this trouble in the first place.)  I desperately turned towards shore, it was so hard to do at this point, since now my body was agonizing with pain and my strength was almost gone.  I lifted one arm after another saying to myself, “Just lift your arms, one at a time!”  I forced my body to obey my commands when all it wanted to do was stop and rest, but I knew if I did, I would succumb to the depths of the beckoning river, calling me to its shadowy home.  When I felt that I could go no further, my hand struck the shore bottom.  I then slowly raised my head only to see the older fisherman I seen earlier, extending his hands in an attempt to pull me the rest of the way out of the water.  I grabbed his hands only to fall into the shallow water once again. He came out into the stream to hold me and help my unresponsive legs into remembering how to walk again. Sitting on a dry boulder, I looked up at him, I then made a weak attempt to smile and thank him, but all that came out from my mouth was river water that I was coughing up.  I looked out into the raging water and I knew in my heart that what I attempted to do was all for fleeting fame and glory, and this foolish venture not only cost me my new purchases, but it almost cost me my life as well.  

In the coming days and months I would go over this learning adventure in my mind, many times over.  I was given another chance to look at life through new eyes and a new heart.  Humility did visit me that day, and in many moments of recollection since.  I came to realize that the best way to capture life was not to gather it in one momentous event, but to enjoy its pleasures in the small things of life that many of us see as commonplace.  I also realized that fame is fleeting and like a slippery fish, hard to hold on to.  There are many monsters in life that can either stop us from taking chances or strengthen us in our resolve to be better than what we are today.  One though must learn that these giants are here to teach us to know about our abilities and the limits that are found in testing them.  Wisdom is the child that is given to those that learn the difference.  The greatest gift that is gained is not in the prize that is sought after, but that which has been learned.   

Growing Up During The Nuclear Threat Era

Living Through The Soviet Threat

Until the later part of the 1940s, the United States was the only super power to possess the atomic bomb, but that was about to change.  The Soviets detonated their first atomic bomb on August 29, 1949. Fearful as that was, the United States felt that they could deter any Soviet threat through the use of its military.  This all changed though when the Soviets altered the course of human events on October 4, 1957 when they launched Sputnik, the first spacecraft ever into space.  Our military was horrified at this event since they knew that it was only a short time before the Soviets would be able to launch their nuclear weapons into space, and drop them on the United States or for that matter, anywhere in the world.  And with this threat, fear would lead both countries to the brink of nuclear war.  

Could things get worse?  The world would soon discover that indeed they could.  The Communist threat was spreading extremely quickly in the world, toppling many existing governments.  Because of the Communist domino belief, (one government falls to communism, causing many others to soon follow) led many people in  democratic nations around the world to think that there was a Communist around every corner in their country, all trying to topple their government.  Along with this, every military event seemed to have millions of Americans and many others in the world glued to a new form of media called, television.  These events would finally lead us to the brink of nuclear war on October 1962.  Millions of Americans watched their televisions as President Kennedy began telling them that nuclear missiles were seen on the Island of Cuba not far from the United States’ coastline.  Our president followed by giving the Soviet leader, (Nikita Khrushchev), an ultimatum to get his missiles off Cuba or face a major military confrontation. It finally came to the breaking point when a major sea battle was about to take place.  

The U.S. and Soviet navies were facing a head on collision that would soon bring the world to the brink of nuclear annihilation.  Near the coastline of the U.S. in the Caribbean Sea, both navies would meet for the first time.  American ships were first to spot a Soviet submarine near Cuba, and were given orders to use non-lethal depth charges to force the Soviet submarine to the surface.  As the sub was being depth-charged, the Soviet officers and crew aboard their ship thought war had in fact finally broke out.  Knowing that their sub had been discovered by the U.S. Navy, the Soviet crew realized that it would be just a matter of minutes until their sub would be crushed by the depth charges falling on them.  Unknown to the Soviet submarine crew, the U.S. Navy sent messages to the sub informing them that the charges were non-lethal, but for some unknown reason, the Soviets never got their message.  Meanwhile, the captain of the Soviet sub was preparing to fire his nuclear torpedo against an American carrier. But first, according naval protocol, 3 officers on board the Soviet sub had to all agree to fire their nuclear torpedo, and it was down to one man, a Soviet submarine officer named, Vasili Arkhipov.  Out of the three officers needed for the firing of the torpedo, Arkhipov was the only officer that would not agree to fire it.  If they had indeed fired upon the Americans, the radiation would have been felt by many on the southern coastline of the United States, which in turn would most likely have led to a nuclear response by the U. S. It was this one man who saved the world from nuclear annihilation.  And so, it came to this moment of history that I write this story of how a little boy was going to save his family while the world was heading towards nuclear doom.  

In the 1950s, our elementary school was having nuclear fallout drills on a regular basis.  Our techniques would not go down as inspirational, or for that matter, repeatable for future generations.  It wasn’t a complicated process to learn, when we heard the bells ringing, we would hide under our desks until told that the drill was not real.  That was the scary part, not knowing if it was a drill or not.  Sometimes during these exercises, when I was trying to look unafraid, I would glimpse over at the girls in my classroom, and I could see that they too were terrified over the idea of being bombed. During those frightening moments, I thought if it really did happen, I knew which girl I would protect first. Though she didn’t know I even existed, or even breathed the same air as her, I was determined to protect her with all my heart, that is, if the bombing did in fact start.  I just knew at that moment I could be her hero and she would think of me as her prince in shining armor coming to protect her from all the devastation caused by the nuclear blast.  

In looking back at those times, we as children were in fact constantly frightened over the possibility of a nuclear war and the devastation that would ensue.  In my own way, I wanted to protect my family from such calamity, so one day I acted in a bold move to keep them safe.  Sitting in the moonlight of my yard, I came up with my most daring plan yet.  I was going to build a cave for my family.  The next day when carrying out my gallant plan, I first had to scale a cliff overlooking the Des Moines River, right next to a 60 foot

drop off and it was straight down.  My thoughts were that if we were bombed by the Soviets and overrun by their armies, we would have my cave to protect them from the blast, and hide them from their advancing armies. As I was digging my tunnel, I kept thinking, “This has to be better than my school desk!”  So I dug and I dug, day after day without telling anyone.  

After about a week I had the cave done and I was very proud of myself.  The next part of the plan was to tell my brothers, and then with much pride, my dad and mom.  But, before that, I needed to show (Mike and Ken), my brothers my cave and see what they thought of my engineering feat.  The next day I led my them to the cave, but first we had to dare the cliff with much reservation, and after many near falls, we made it to the area close to the cave entrance.  As we neared the cave, I could almost feel my shirt buttons bursting from my monumental accomplishment.  Next, I  turned around and faced my brothers with my back to the opening of the cave, and with much pomp and ceremony I addressed them by pontificating in as serious a tone as possible, “I can hide at least 7 people in this cave.“ There faces by now were

glazed over in amazement, at the same time bobbing their heads on either side of me in an attempt to see my masterpiece. With a somewhat cocky attitude, I turned around to face my greatest magnum opus.  But, what I saw next was not what I had hoped to see; the whole cave was not there.  Spinning around looking at my brothers, I said, “It’s gone, someone found my secret spot and caved it in!”  They looked at me and then at each other with stunned looks.  At that moment, recognition dawned on our collective faces and we knew that no one had collapsed my cave; it came down all on its own. In our slow retreat home, and after escaping the death-defying cliff, I found myself totally deflated, but somehow trying to save my dignity as we walked back home.  Following my two brothers I made one last effort in salvaging my pride by telling them, “You know guys, that was our best hope in hiding our family if the Soviets decided to drop a bomb on us, or for that matter, come for us.” As I trailed behind them, I looked intently at their collective reactions to my last statement.  Silence was their only response as we walked along through the woods.  I knew in my heart though that they were making every effort to keep from snickering as I saw their clinched jaws tightening.  

As I trailed further and further behind my brothers I began to think, "Walking can help one think!"  It then came to me as I went past a badger entrance, “I could have been in there when my cave had collapsed.”  As small as it was, I had accomplished that, saving myself!

The Allure of Fame

The Allure of Fame

In looking back at those whimsical years of my youth, I realized that some of my best ideas came to me when sitting on the steps of my parent’s sidewalk.  These thoughts just flooded over me while watching the beautiful moonrise over Jackson’s Des Moines River Valley. On one particular evening of deep contemplation, I had a major flash of inspiration, something that I had never thought of before.  “Why do I need all these expensive lures and test lines to get the big prize fish that always seemed to elude my grasp?”  This thought came to me like I imagine it did for people like Henry Ford with the automobile, or Thomas Edison with the light bulb; I had in that moment the idea of the century, “I should throw away my fishing equipment and keep the process of catching fish as simple as possible.  All I needed was to use my dad’s garden rake to catch fish!”  When heading back to the garage for my tool of enlightenment (dad’s rake), floods of uncertainty came over me.  Honesty of mind followed me with each step that I took, all the while pricking my conscious as I recalled some of my past ideas that needed more work in the developmental phase. 

 But I had to be honest, some of my dreams worked wonderfully, while others would not go down in recorded history as being confused with Professor Einstein’s, shall we say.

Not daunted by my past near successes, I thought this new idea was going to be my best one yet.  Spear fishing the big anglers with the garden rake was going to be revolutionary, and perhaps many others would use this method in the future.  After all, it was easier than using a fishing line that might very well get snagged under some boulder, or sunken tree branch as happened to me and others so many times in the past.  

So with much excitement, I rose early the next morning, and as I neared the dam, I could see the early morning mist rising from the water as it went over the 10-foot drop to the foaming froth below.  The river was now at the perfect level to see giant pike swimming between the rocks.  I knew at that very moment, it was the day for my premier path to success.  Realizing that these monsters of the deep would swim away if I made too much noise, I crept down to the water’s edge with all the stealth I could invoke, all the while l softly tip toed over the slippery boulders to the spot where the water was churning the least.  As I watched the spotted monsters leisurely making their way between the rocks, I could tell that my plan was going to work out perfectly.  I knew that just as a big game hunter pauses to get the most opportune shot, I too raised my rake very slowly, and just at the right moment, I would swing down to my target below and success would be mine.  But my fortunes were about to change. Without warning, my opportunity was stolen from my grasp.  At that dreadful moment, my foot flew out from underneath me.  As my world was turning upside down, literally, I could see as if in slow motion, the slimy green moss covered bolder beneath where my feet once were. In that disastrous point in time of divine comedy, I saw my life flash before my eyes as I flipped upside down.  I landed on my side with a great thud, At that moment, I began feel cold icy water rushing into my pants and underwear, and I knew at that precise moment in time that,  “This is why I hadn’t seen the “Old Timers” doing this very thing.”  As the icy waters flooded over my body, I knew that I needed to find a dry rock in order to regain my mobility, but more importantly, my dignity.  But first, I quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching me.  I was safe, but the cold water did not help take away the pain on my bruised ribs that I felt at that moment.  I limped to the shore holding my side, and began tending to my wounds.  As I sat there looking at my battered and bruised body, I looked up only to see several huge Pike and Walleyes slipping from my grasp in waters right before me.  All the while, they seemed to smile at my misfortune, but all I could do was to respond by wincing in pain.  

After about an hour of warming in the rising sun, my wilted spirits were beginning to be rejuvenated.  I now felt that I was ready for another round of spearing with my new invention.  This time I watched each rock and boulder as I stepped cautiously making sure that I didn’t repeat my prior miscalculations.  Just before reaching my previous point of defeat, I first got a firm footing and then stood perfectly still not wanting to ruin my one chance at success. As I stood their waiting, my thoughts wondered to my prospect at glory.  I could just see all the “Old Timers” licking their collective lips as I hauled in the giant that they could only dream about. 

 At that point, my thoughts went wild, I saw myself in the paper with my giant Pike in hand, smiling at the camera, chest puffed out and people from near and far asking me what my secret was in catching such a large trophy fish.  I would then be the envy of old and young anglers alike.  Maybe even someone from the Minneapolis Star would come down from the Twin Cities to interview me and ask me what I did to catch this giant fish.  In looking back now after many years have gone by, I still remember that day so very well.  It will be forever ingrained in my memory as the day that went down in the books.

Recalling that decisive turning point, out on the rocks, I knew at that moment, I should not make a move or a sound.  So, in order to remain as still as possible, I held my breath until I felt my head started getting light from the lack of oxygen, but I didn’t want to lose my chance at glory, it was here in front of me, I just knew it!  Then it happened, the largest Northern Pike I had ever seen was sliding through the rocks before my very eyes.  It was here, my chance at being famous.  I waited until I could stand it no more, I let out my breath and at the same time I came down hard with my garden rake, and it indeed met its mark.  Time stood still; nothing seemed to move during that epoch moment.  After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, there appeared to be no movement from my trophy fish.  I somehow knew that it was dead by the deep thrust of my rake into its back.  I then began to relax my hold on this colossus from the underworld.  But then, all of a sudden the giant pike decided to move and move it did.  I grabbed hold of my rake, and I then realized that it was moving up stream very quickly, and I unwillingly began traveling with it.  Looking down at my feet at that moment, I quickly understood that if I took one more step, I would be standing on the green slime that nearly ended my life just a few minutes before.  I jerked back with all my might and I could feel the monster starting to give up in its effort to move upstream.  Slowly, with much excruciating effort, I agonizingly pulled the giant towards the shore.  Every muscle in my body ached as I slowly hauled my prize away from my own potential doom.  As I was slowly dragging the giant inch by inch to the shoreline, I felt my strength slowly ebbing from my body, and I knew that I didn’t have the fortitude to make it to the shoreline.  I realized that I needed to tap an unknown source of strength from somewhere in my being, and just like Edison, a flash of light came to me.  I remembered the story of an old man who fished for a giant whale from my grade school reading class. I couldn’t remember the story’s title; it might have been “Mautly Dick” or something like that.  I do though remember the fisherman’s name, it was “Ahab”.  He too had to fight with his white giant of the depths.  As I tried to remember more of the story, my mind began fogging over.  I soon started to feel weaker and weaker as my thoughts began escaping me as soon as they entered my brain.  Somehow I had to remember how it turned out for Ahab.  This is what would give me the will and strength to go on.  Nothing seemed to come to mind though, so at that critical moment in time; I decided to write my own conclusion to the story.  This is how it would end, “Ahab would be successful in catching his fish, and so I too was going to do the same.”  He didn’t give up, and neither would I. I strained with all my might giving one last great heave; I now felt my legs having renewed strength as I neared the shore. With my one last ounce of effort, I heaved the giant that I now called “Mautly,” to the shoreline.  I knew that I was now going to be famous and admired by the world, just like Ahab was.  

As I lay there gazing down at my prize of a lifetime, I imagined myself on the front page of many different newspapers with my giant pike hanging behind my equally giant smile.  But, as with many great successes, there can be great failures as well.  As I was smiling at my trophy fish, I noticed my brother Ken approaching from downstream.  He arrived I noticed carrying his fishing pole and all his many lures in hand.  Looking at all his expensive gear, I thought to myself, “I will not have to spend another dime in the future to catch lesser prizes.”  Refocusing my eyes to my brother once again, I looked up to see him gazing thoughtfully at my prize, not saying a word.  I now expected him to be in somewhat awe over being the brother of a famous person to be, but that is not was happened.  Instead of gleefully congratulating me, he instead, took all the wind out of my sails by saying, “You know brother, I think that it is illegal to fish with a garden rake.”  Then, at that very moment in hearing my brother's words, my future glories came crashing down on my head.  Instead of joy, guilt swept over me and I could only get mad at myself for not checking out the laws on this first.  I remember seeing in the rulebook a picture of a spear, but no image of a garden rake.  Since I didn’t know for sure at the time, it definitely was too late to find out now.  I had already caught the fish and I use the term “caught” rather loosely.  Ken then patted me on the shoulder with a look of consolation.  He then started home.  As he climbed the riverbank, I noticed something hanging from his stringer.  It was two very large Northern Pike that he was trying to hang onto.  I could see that he was struggling with their weight, so I called to Ken and said that I would help with his catch.  

As I was walking with Ken in silence, we both were lost in thought.  For myself, my reach for glory was not to be.  With some far reaching desire for consolation, my thoughts went to Edison, (my childhood hero) once more, being a positive person that he was, I remember reading about him being asked by a rather negative reporter about his 1000 attempts at finding the right filament for his light bulb, “How did it feel to fail 1000 times?”  By which Edison replied, “I didn’t fail 1000 times.  The bulb was an invention with 1000 steps.” So with the same conviction, I reevaluated my recent endeavors in a positive outlook as an attempt in finding the easier way to a rather hard task of fishing. Upon further reflection as we walked up our driveway, I wondered, “Did Ahab have to let go of his fish that he speared?”

The Trials of Fishing

The Trials of Fishing

Fishing as a young lad can be very exciting in the Spring-time.  Walleye and Northern Pike are seen working their way up the river to spawn, and they are hungry for any food that comes their way.  Fishermen of all ages get excited over the possibility of catching the really big one to take home as a trophy, as well as enjoying the scrumptious meal with the family.  Young boys are often seen watching the older more experienced fisherman.  These elderly gentlemen are observed working their trade with their special lures and certain kinds of casting techniques that they effortlessly pitch into the swirling depths of the river before them.  Watching these gentlemen fish as a youth was one of my greatest experiences that I could have as a young lad.  These elder fishermen somehow knew where the best spots were, and the best time of day to catch these trophy fish.  If a boy chose not to learn from these older anglers, he might walk home disappointed with no fish to show for his efforts.   Then again, there were days where dumb luck entered into the scene and some kid walked home outshining the older fellows, but these times were few and far between.  Overall though, fishing was a lot of fun with all its ups and downs.  

Each day when heading to the dam I would first check out the people that got their before me. If they had full stringers filled with wonderful fish, then I knew that it was going to be a good day for fishing. If their stringers on the other hand were empty or had bullheads on them, then it would be better for me to head home and pursue some other endeavor.  Perhaps I would ride my bike, or play in the park, and if I had bean-walking money in my pocket, I would head to my great uncles’ pool hall and play Snooker or Eight Ball.  Either way, I wasn’t going to sit on some riverbank and swat mosquitoes the rest of the hot afternoon and get nothing to show for it.  

At times though, events bare fruit in different ways other than fishing, even when you are trying to catch the big one, and it gets away.  One day in particular I was on the bank fishing and some boys stopped by to see how it was going.  I told them of the many fish I had caught (at the time I had an empty stringer that I had  hidden in the water) and the different fishing techniques that I used. They seemed impressed, so I continued on with my oration.  As I paused with my dissertation of my vast skills, they asked me if it was hard fishing.  I looked up into the air as if relaying my extensive knowledge to a much larger invisible audience, and at that crucial moment, I saw myself as a font of wisdom, so I went on with my lecture, “Well boys, a man named Confusion once said “If you love what you do, you will not work a day in your life” They seemed overly impressed with my skills, my vast vocabulary and knowledge, so much so that they wanted to take up fishing as well.  Just then, the noon whistle went off and they headed home to eat, but I could see from the expressions on their faces that they were sufficiently inspired.  For myself, I waited until they were out of sight to pull my empty stringer out of the water and quickly head home to dinner as well. 

Horse Riding Adventures From My Childhood

Horse Riding Adventures From My Childhood

Growing up in the 50’s and 60’s children like myself watched many westerns on T.V.  It was the adventure of the unknown that sparked every child’s imagination while cowboys led their horses and cattle into unfamiliar territory.  There were cattle rustlers, gunslingers, and wild cowboy towns filled with wild women and rowdy men.  Marshalls were trying to keep the peace all the while cowboys who had been on the cattle trails for months were seen blowing off steam, sometimes with too much enthusiasm.  Young lads from every strata of society watched movies like Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and The Rifleman religiously.  Filling this frenzy for more, boys asked for 6 gun shooters (cap guns) along with chaps, holsters and of course the white and black cowboy hats.  When not being able to afford the plastic headed horse with a broomstick attached, one just “borrowed” mom’s kitchen broom that is until she saw that it was left in the yard near our imaginary buried gunslingers on “Boot Hill.”  Endless days were spent playing into the twilight hours when mother’s throughout the neighborhood collectively hollered for their young cowboys to head back to the ranch for supper and bed.  

It was not uncommon for homes to have hats and pistol belts hanging from the boys’ bedroom doors.  This of course was needed in case any desperado was found slinking by in the middle of the night. If you could afford it, and your trail bosses (mom and dads) would let you get them, caps for your 6 shooters were the “Cats’ Meow”.  After purchasing them at the Ben Franklin Five and Dime stores, they usually lasted a young cowboy about two days, or until an unknown varmint needed shooting in the middle of the night.  After the midnight shootout rendezvous, pets in the household usually hid under the bed for the rest of the night while little cowboys had their arms or (six shooters) taken away until morning.  

In our house we had a Chihuahua that thought she was a German Sheppard.  She was fearless until something like another dog, regardless of size ventured too close, and then our courageous canine would head under the bed and shake.  Someone needed to protect the area under the bed, why not our little dog. She would guard my brothers and sisters fearlessly, that is, until pretty much anyone or anything came by. And when that happened she would advance to the underside of the bed, which she thought desperately needed defending at the time.  

Westerns had become so much the fabric of our lives as little boys growing up, that we ate, slept, and thought of cowboy life pretty much during every waking hour.  Our parents patiently waited for this phase to pass, but they were also the ones who joined in on the western shows on T.V. as well.  During the day, when our father was at work, we would invent the wild-west not only in our imagination, but also in our neighborhood as well.  Behind our home Mr. E. (another neighbor) had an area fenced off for his private zoo.  It encompassed many acres of woods, ravines and exotic animals he collected. As young boys we would not only venture into this area, but we would be cowboys out on a roundup, but instead of horses, there were peacocks, Japanese deer, antelope, and of course lions as well.  We felt that if we had our cap guns with us, nothing could harm us.  Now as an adult, when looking back at this time, I now know that the lions that Mr. E. had were pretty tame.  I was told that one day he rode one to work for the others to see and enjoy. I was also told that he would occasionally let a lion out when a salesman drove into his place. This would for some reason would discourage the most of energetic of salesman from exiting their cars when the lion would jump up against the window of his vehicle.  Later I would learn that the salesman would drive away never to return again to Mr. E.’s place.  

As in the old west, the sheriff would play a major role in keeping the peace in these tumultuous times. Our town too had a sheriff, and he happened to live next door to us.  Sheriff Benjamin was a very kind man and he seemed to understand children very well.  Like in the old west, we had railroad tracks going near our home. And like what happened in the old west, Hobo’s would ride the rail and come to our town as well.  When entering our town, they would need a place to stay and food to fill their empty stomachs.  Sheriff Benjamin being kind and feeling sorry for them, he would let them stay in his barn in the back and his kind wife would give them food to eat.  After having a couple of days gone by, I would discover that they were no where to be found. They had left early in the morning, our temporary neighbor had taken the next train out heading west. Boxcars were plentiful during this time and they made ideal places for hobos to ride in.  Sometimes though the boys in the neighborhood would sneak out at night and we would meet at the Benjamin’s barn, all with intent of listening to the hobo’s telling us about all the places in the world that they had seen. While they spoke, visions popped into our heads of riding with them on the rail, our holsters filled with fresh caps and cowboy hats hanging from our necks as we would ride west into cowboy territory, seeing the wild west in all its excitement that it would bring our way.  As we sat around the hobo’s campfire, our eyes would bulge with all the tales they would tell us, and later, we would head home to bed with all the makings of wonderful dreams to come.  

I remember when I was 7, we moved to another part of town that was near the river and near the woods, as well as pasture land that belonged to our neighbors, the Olsons. The Olson’s had two horses. They were not ridden much in the winter months and when spring came, they (the horses) had it in their collective minds not to let anyone ride them.  Toby was a Shetland pony and Ginger was a rather large mare. Wanting in the worst way to finally ride a horse, I asked our neighbors if I could ride Ginger.  They reluctantly said yes, but they put the stipulation that she hadn’t been ridden in months and most likely would buck me off.  I accepted the challenge and readily jumped on to her back.  Riding bare back with no reins I thought would be easy, after all, the Indains in the old west did it all the time.  That was a fatal error in judgement on my part. Upon getting on Olson’s horse, the neighbor boy let Ginger go and her eyes almost seemed to come out of her head with horror.  All of sudden she stood back on her hind legs and I thought she would fall back on me and I would be only recognized by a cowboy belt as they put me in the casket all flattened into mush with two eyeballs popped out of my head and a stupid smile on my face.  As Ginger reared back I instinctively grabbed tighter on her mane and that only make it worse.  She really got upset at that point.  I could only imagine what she was thinking, “Who does this little upstart think he is, pulling on my mane and trying to ride on my back!” Ginger instantly came down on all four legs and then broke into a full gallop racing down the gravel path at full speed.  Making a sharp right turn I barely managed to hold on all the while Ginger was bellowing out screams that I thought a horse could not make.  I have to say that I too was getting pretty excited at that moment. Holding on for dear life, I then realized maybe Ginger would calm down, she then stood in one place, let out a growl of anger and then proceeded to run at a full gallop.  Trying to hold on with just her mane to grab hold of, I found my body bouncing in the air as if in slow motion as the horse began to pickup speed.  At that moment I thought that the rest of the neighborhood boys were probably in awe over my abilities with horse riding.  Just then though, Ginger put both front hooves out in front of her and stopped abruptly.  She skidded to a quick halt all the while I found myself sailing past her head as if in slow motion.  But, in reality I was flying very fast into the air as I glided down to the level of the ground, skidding across the gravel past my friends, chin first.  The boys watching broke out in hysterical laughter while I on the other hand was trying to get my lungs working again by gasping for any air that I could muster after having the wind knocked out them.  

My friends picked me off the ground, but as I was being led away, I looked over at Ginger and I swear I could see her smiling and nodding at me as she slowly turned

away to continue her breakfast.