My longtime readers have often read my posts when I start out by writing something like, I never know where my inspiration for posts is going to come from.
Guess what? It has happened again. I received an email this morning from a Rev. in Casper, Wyoming. He wrote how he was a new student in Worthington just starting his senior year in the fall of 1971. He also wrote how he was the student who ran our videotaping, or at that time, Super 8 mm movie camera to film our game.
He went on to write how he remembered the sound of my accident! Please indulge me and let me insert his email message here:
While I am sure you don’t remember me, as I was just a new senior there at Worthington your junior year when you broke your neck, I was the one who was recording the game for the school. I was also one of the many who rode our bikes over to Sioux Falls to visit you. I do know that you know my parents Robert and Betty McGrew as it was in conversation with them that my parents got a copy of your book for me (signed by you) as they thought that I knew you. I know more about you as I was there, and will never forget the sound from that moment.
In any case, the reason I am writing to you today is that after reading your book, I was in conversation with a lady here in Casper, Wyoming, where I am currently appointed as a United Methodist pastor, and I believe that your book would be an inspiration for her as she struggles with recuperating from a major stroke. If you would let me know what I need to do in order to get another copy of your book and what the costs are I would appreciate it.
Now, mind you, he is talking about my accident, which happened more than forty-one and a half years ago. He mentioned how he will never forget the sound! He was perched high from the crowd in a crow's nest at the fifty yard line, more than two hundred feet from the play! It astonishes me how he could hear the snap of my neck from that distance!
One of my coaches told how he heard a sound; and before the whistle even blew to end the play, he was running onto the field because he knew something was wrong. He was even thirty or more yards from the play when he heard it.
If you have read my book I Still Believe In Tomorrow, you know I wrote about how Charlie Blackstead, who was running the chain gang and had a very unique perspective on my accident, constantly referred to my head bouncing just one time, it bounced just one time, it bounced just one time. He kept repeating that in a conversation we had just a few years ago.
Another friend wrote how he did not think it was any big deal, until the ambulance got there. Again, if you have read the book, you may remember some of those comments.
I often refer to an instant in time when I talk about my accident. I believe we can all think of an instant in time in our own lives that have affected not only our life but the peoples' lives around us. It is those instances in time that often define our lives. Take a minute if you will, and think about some of the instances in time in your life that have affected not only yours, but the lives around you.
I am happy to say I have already sent the book; and a woman in Casper, Wyoming who has suffered a major stroke may benefit from an instant in time in my life in 1971. Also, who knows whom she will give it to and let read I Still Believe In Tomorrow?
I could not always say this, but I believe very strongly there was a reason for my accident. That gets reinforced to me on almost a daily basis.
As always, I look forward to your comments. I especially look forward to comments from people who were at the game and what you remember about that instant in time.