Biking Blind

April 13, 2013

I heard they were  coming a couple of weeks ago and thought it was pretty cool that they were stopping by.  The Lions Club has their meeting in our back room and has some pretty good speakers from time to time.
Then, Monday, Casey asked me if I had read the newspaper.  I told him no and asked why.  He asked if I knew the blind bikers were coming by and I told him that I did. "Do we have enough room?", he asked.  "Sure, why not?".  He then told me that it was on the front page of the newspaper and that the public was invited.
I figured that it might get a little interesting but who really reads the paper anymore?  I stopped reading it when they didn't do anything about John Anderson but that is a whole other story.  I only read it if there is something of great interest that is local or for local sports.
Then, it came out on TV and by Thursday, I was wondering what I should do. Initially, I figured that I would just let them fill up the room as best that they could.  Thursday evening, a man called and asked if we were making reservations.  The Lions Club had still not talked to me about the meeting.  And then, I found out that they had invited the other clubs in the area along with the public.  I went to bed on Thursday wondering how Friday was going to pan out.
I awoke in the morning with the solution in my head.  It often goes that way. We would turn over the main floor to the Lions Club.  That was the only way that we were going to be able to handle the problem.
At 11, we put up signs and began to take the regular customers into the back room and set up the main floor for the meeting.  We already had the sound system for the Band of Brothers and I hooked it up.  By 11:30, the back room was full and only a few people had came into the main floor.  A group of four came in and left when they did not want to wait for a table.  I tried to talk them into coming into the Lions Club room but they wanted no part of it.  A two top came in close afterwards.  I found them a place but the back room was so full that they said they felt claustrophobic and they left also.  I got real frustrated and began to doubt my earlier decision.  There were only 20 or so in the main room at the time.
"Have I made a mistake?", I thought.  My answer came quickly.  A man stopped me at the door.  He was leaving and he wanted to say something to me.  "I love your food.", he said, "But there are a lot of good food places in Bend.  I want you to know why I come here. I love what you do.  Just like what you are doing in the front room right now.  I eat here because I want to honor you......to honor your heart.".  In that instant, my question had been answered.  No matter what was to happen, I was doing the right thing.
Shortly, the front room began to fill.  Many of them were new faces that I had not seen before.  The back room was rolling well and we didn't lose any more customers there and shortly, the meeting started up front and the two bikers, Christi Bruchok and Tauru Chaw began their talk.  As I watched them, I was taken by how much Christi reminded me of Rachel Scedoris.  They have their blindness in common but their mannerisms seemed so much alike.

The two were very engaging and entertained and enlightened the group well, answering any question that was given them.  The session lasted around an hour or so and right afterward, we took a few pictures before they left.  Judy promised to send them copies so that they could post them on their website, http://twoblindtoride.org/ .


All in all, it turned out to be a very good day and two things were once again validated.  My early morning thoughts are my best thoughts. And, every time that I begin to question whether it is the right thing to do, someone comes along and validates it.  When the man who talked to me left, he said, "God bless you.".  I said, "He does.....every day.".  Meeting these two incredible people was truly mine for today.
 

Paul

March 28, 2013
I was the smallest kid in my class in grade school.  I was so small that I was given the nickname of pixie.  But, there was also a young man who was not much bigger than me.  We went through school together and even though he actually graduated in Bend, he is and always was considered a classmate by the others in my graduating class.
My memories of him go to things such as the sit up competition in the 4th grade or so that he beat me in.  I think we had an advantage over others in our smaller size but Paul was stronger and beat me by a few reps.  Why do I remember that?  Who knows.  Maybe because I came so close to winning something that was based on strength since I was so small.
Paul was never outspoken.  I don't recall him ever standing out, for that matter.  But, he was always around and everyone liked him.  He was one of the more 'popular' guys in the class.
As was with all school classes, we all went our way after graduation.  Paul joined the military along with his friend, Bill.  And went off...to Vietnam.  And this changed his life forever.  Like so many others, war had changed my old friend and classmate.
I saw him sometime in the 80's and thought he was leaving the area.  But, sometime in the 90's as I was stopped at a light on Division street, a knock came on my window and there was Paul.  We greeted each other as long as one can while waiting for a stoplight and it was so good to see the new Paul.  But, he did not look anything like the short stocky guy that I had recalled from school.  He now was much slimmer with long hair.
It was years later that I bumped into Paul yet again.  This time, he was painting part of the factory outlet mall on Bend's southside.  And again shortly afterward, I ran into him painting yet another building close to the old truck stop.
Paul had become just a quiet guy who did his job and...got by.  Another classmate, Randy, actually lived across from him for a while and did not realize that he was there.
The last time that I saw Paul was in 2005, shortly after we reopened in our new building. Paul came in for breakfast one morning and I was able to talk with him at the counter.  He said that he had a condo on the west side and he pretty much stayed to himself.  He said that was just the way he liked it.
With the advent of Facebook, I have been able to reconnect with many of these old schoolmates.  I have been asked more about Paul than any other classmate.  He was the one who they all knew and liked and who had just disappeared.  It had been so long since I saw him, I figured that he must have just left the area.
Yesterday, as I pulled out of my son, Casey's, house and looked to merge into traffic on Galveston, a man on his bike came around the corner.  I waited as he drove in front of my bumper, looked my way, smiled briefly, and nodded his head.  At first, I wondered if I knew the man.....and then the memories flooded in.  It was Paul!  I turned his direction, drove alongside, and rolled down my window.  "Paul?", I asked?  He smiled and nodded his head.  "Pull over", I yelled out and drove up to the next place that  could park.
I watched as he rode my way.  While his eyes still spoke his name, he was now much older with his skin much leathery.  His smile showed me my old friend who had now been beaten up a little with life.  I told him that more people had asked about him that any other classmate that I had known.  That knowledge did seem to brighten his smile but he remained that same quiet guy.
He told me that he had followed me on the news and thanked me for my support of vets.  There is a bond that people have after sharing an experience.  Paul and I had shared two......school and Vietnam.  I felt that bond as we talked.  I also felt something else....his PTSD.  We talked about life and what he was doing.  "How are you, Paul?", I asked.  He shared how he no longer was in the condo and now lived in a small apartment.  "I get by", Paul said, "I have been able to pick up another job that has helped me get through the winter and I have a landlord who trusts me and that helps".
I asked him if had ever heard of the Band of Brothers and he said he had.  I invited him over and he said that he probably would not make it as his bike was now his transportation.  We talked for  a while about old friends and I told him that it was so good to see him again and that I hoped that our paths would cross again soon.  I stuck out my hand to shake his.
Then...he pushed my hand to the side and gave me a bear hug.  This came from the quiet guy who did not show emotion.  I hugged him back, said my goodbyes, and drove down the street back to the diner.
Almost immediately, I kicked myself.  There were so many things I should have said.  Like get his number, find out where he now lives, or invite him to the Vet Center.  Forty years ago, the war changed his life and in a way....he still lives it.
I made two phone calls.  One to another old classmate Larry and the other to my Vietnam brother, Zin. I left a message with Larry and ended up waking up Zin.  I apologized for waking him from his nap and we discussed Paul and his needs for a bit.  I thanked Zin for helping me get it off my chest.
After leaving the diner, I drove home and took a nap of my own.  I put my phone on vibrate and awoke to a call from Larry. I smiled at the irony of it all as I saw his name on my phone.  After all, I had waken Zin and now I was getting woke for the same thing.
Larry told me that he would be in town on Wednesday and would join me for lunch.  We talked of Paul and he informed me that he wanted to try and find him.  That actually would be a good thing if we can find him.
If only I had gotten his number.....or his address....
 

A Hero

March 22, 2013
I slept little during the night before.  A mix of two things kept me awake.  While a head cold did annoy, the largest thing that distracted me was my thoughts.  In the morning, I had been asked to present a Red Cross Hero award to a friend in honor of his son who died last year while serving his country.
My mind and heart kept going to this friend.  I could only imagine how he was feeling and wondering if he too was laying there awake thinking of the day to come.  Having three children of my own, I know that I would be devastated if I lost one and to relive that loss a year later could not be much easier.
I recall how I felt when my son left for the Navy a few years back.  I even wrote of how hard it was.  But to lose him for the rest of my life on earth?  I know there is the comfort that you will see him again one day in Heaven but.....we live in the here and now.
I saw every hour and by 5AM, I gave up and just got up.  I read a bit and prayed a bit. I worried about what I was going to say.  There was a standard canned offer but....this was special.  The young man who had given his life for his country was special.  His family was special.  And I wanted to honor that.
Words began to form in my mind.  I practiced them over and over in my brain and began to take them apart and inspect them piece by piece.  I wanted more than anything for the words to reflect not just my feelings but the ones of my veteran brothers that I was presenting for.  And I wanted them to have full meaning for my friend and for his son.
I showered and headed out, picking up Trinity along the way.  I arrived at the event and walked in with Trin and some of my brothers from my table.  We all got in line to get some food.  As I scooped up my breakfast from the chafing dishes many of my veteran brothers who were there along with other 'Jake's' customers quipped on how much better Jimmy's weekly buffet at the meetings was which did fill me with a bit of pride.
I sat at the table and tried to eat but nothing tasted good.  The food was good....the problem was me.  Nerves and the desire to do my best gave me no appetite.  I nibbled at my food and did my best to get the nutrition that I needed.  Not to help matters, I felt my blood sugar drop and knew that I needed to get that in check.  I walked back over and got a glass of orange juice.
On the program, we were last so I watched and listened.  Every presentation was the same.  Mine would either be taken for what I hoped for.....an honor to a special man or....as grandstanding.  I decided that it did not matter what anyone thought, it needed to be said.
Before  I knew it, we were next.  The adrenaline kicked in overriding the sugar and lack of food.  I sat and watched the video of Justin's mother speaking of him.  When he was announced, the room sprang to their feet in a standing ovation. With my Marine brother, Zin, by my side, I walked to the side of the stage.  Zin took the award and flowers.  I took the microphone.  The words flowed just as they did in my mind minutes before.  I looked at Jim and my heart went out to him.  I spoke of how our friend, Bob Maxwell when talked to about his Medal of Honor is always quick to tell you who the real heroes were....the ones who could not come home.  Then we presented the award, shook Jim's hand, stepped back a step and saluted.  Zin and I left the stage and watched as Jim tried to talk but could not.
As I watched another thought came to my mind.  Jim was the hero here. He was the biggest hero in the room in my mind.  He was here, up on stage, reliving his grief.....not for himself but for his son's honor.  I wondered if I could have that much strength.  I know he would probably give anything just for a few more minutes with his boy.
I was there for the heroes award breakfast.   But the most heroic man there did not receive an award....at least not for himself.
 

Ned 2

February 15, 2013
I arrived at the service 45 minutes early hoping to catch some time with Marcene.  Evidently, many others had the same idea as the parking lot was full and the line was out the door.
The first thing that I noticed were two ladies, unkept and obese with their ball caps on sideways making their way up the ramp to the door.  I smiled as I remembered how Ned had always reached out to the unreached....the ones that others didn't...the ones harder to love for most of us.  It was one of he and Marcene's greatest qualities.
Once inside the building, we could see where the line was going.  Marcene was placed just past her daughter, Lynette and was greeting each and every person with a hug.  I watched as she loved them individually.  I smiled and turned to Judy, telling her that it might take a while.
Lynette was trying her best to keep the line going but knew the importance of the moment for her mom.  I talked with her briefly but wish I could have had more time as I didn't feel our conversation went well.  Sometimes the words in your mouth just don't come out right...and I felt this the case here.
Soon, it was our turn and I got my 'Marcene' hug.  She smiled and remembered the boy who had the fishing hook out the side of his head.  I laughed back and corrected her.....two times that had happened.  I could have spent a while there but I wanted her to be able to see all of her friends so we went on in.
As we entered, I spoke with his twin brother, Ted who was in the back of the room.  It was almost as if Ned were there amongst us.  Knowing Ned, I could see the differences but the similarities were so striking given the day.  The similar smile..the similar laugh.....the eyes.
We found a seat and waited watching all of the others around us.  Other than the family, the only one that I noticed was Ron Haynes who I had grown up with.  Ron had married Marcene's sister and had been the one who had called me first.
The service started just a bit late.  I knew that it must have been because Marcene wished to see as many as possible.  The pastor greeted us all.  He seemed to be a friend of Ned's and I felt that might be the reason for the decision to have the service there.  He told us who would be speaking and how they would not have an open mike as they would be there all day if they had ( I agreed with that assessment as I knew that all the souls in the building had been touched by this great man).
They had representatives from all of his churches starting out with Ron from ours.  I enjoyed Ron's talk with the old Ron humor that I remembered from our youth.  Ron spoke of an outing where we were roasting hot dogs over a fire and he had placed a fire cracker in the end of one.  He spoke of Ned's anger over it.  I recall the incident and Ned's displeasure but not the anger. I still don't recall him ever angry.  I know he must have been from time to time but my memory probably pushed that aside.
The other churches were spoken well and I was especially taken by the story from the Longview church. A lady spoke while her husband stood next to her.  He seemed nervous and out of place but I soon realized his reason for being there.  The lady had been Ned's secretary and they had prayed for him for many years.  Tragedy in their lives had brought Ned to be able to lead him to the only One who could repair his heart.
Lastly, Ted got up and spoke.  I loved his dry humor and laughed with all on his stories of their youth together.  I especially loved his stories of the time when I knew him and he and his wife, Mertie,were on furlough from his service overseas in Italy.  Back then, their resemblence was so close that someone in Bend thought Ned was out with another woman.
Then the pastor got back up and spoke for a bit.  My mind drifted as he spoke as I could not settle on his words. I had two many Ned thoughts on my mind and although I knew that Ned would want a sermon to be spoken, I found myself drifting and was glad when the kids took the stage.
I was so touched Torey and his rememberences of his dad.  He struggled with his words not because he did not know what he wanted to say but because it was hard to say them.  I know that I will have that same hard task one day and don't look forward to it.
Then the kids were joined by the rest of the family to sing a song.  As they began to sing, tears welled up in my eyes and freely ran down my cheeks.  For the simple song sang by his family stated his life better than any words could ever.  The family sang "Jesus loves me".  How poignant and how fitting.
The service over, Judy and I went back to the gym behind the church but only for a minute as we had to get on the road home.   We were able to see his son, Toby who had called me on the phone and say goodbye to Ted.
As we drove away, Judy and I spoke of the service and what we had seen.  We both agreed that the song from the family was just so right.....so fitting and beautiful.
I had been having a few bad days since hearing of his passing.  It was if my life was somewhat out of balance.  I remember sharing with Judy how I did not understand why it was affecting me so much.  The service brought the word closure to me in a way that I had not understood it before.  I will never forget this man who left and indelible imprint on my life.  And the memory of his service....a celebration of his life....will stay there also.
I will keep the program as a remembrance also.  The front cover of Ned standing there.  The inside picture of Ned and Marcene. The back cover of a picture of him and his family.  But below that another tribute.  One that will always make me smile when I look at it.  For Ned was an avid Oregon Duck fan and there was the Duck logo with the words "Go Ducks!".   Once again, how fitting.