THE LONGEST RIDE

In about January of 2003, our oldest son, Scott, was sent to a U.S. Navy training school. It was one in a series of many to prepare him as a special ops officer. His schools were always mentally and physically demanding, with a large percentage of the class either dropping out or being disqualified for not meeting the requirements.

The more difficult the school, the more apt he was to apply. It was just the way he was and even is today. Frequently he would not only pass the class, but would graduate with honors, which qualified him for more schools and made him more valuable to the military. It was on one such occasion as this that he was called to attend a school and his family would follow later.

He went to Florida and his wife, two small children, and their Husky dog would make the drive in a small SUV, from Utah. I was asked if I might go along with them and then fly home after we arrived. It was about a four day driving trip and I would help his wife, Holly, with the driving and watching the children. We'd stay in motels and eat along the way. It was cold weather and the highways were not the best but we were ready for an adventure. It was that. Camryn, their daughter was about three years old and Will, their son, about one.

The SUV was set up with a DVD player and kids movies so that they could be entertained during the long drive. We must have listened to them watching "The Little Mermaid," it seemed like, hundreds of times. Holly is a trooper and took it all in stride but I was not prepared for the challenge.

Today, we have 19 grandchildren, I am the oldest of seven kids, I thought I could handle the situation easily, but the stress levels in this case, were in the over the top range. Will did not want to be strapped into a car seat and you can't blame him. He was accustomed to crawling around the floor, unencumbered. He may have been safe in that car seat, but he was not happy. He would frequently scream himself into exhaustion. We stopped for gas and food and to exercise the dog and kids, but all of the driving time, Will was in that car seat and he protested to such a degree that hearing loss was forecast for the rest of us.

The SUV was packed. The sardine can cliche would be perfectly in order here. If Holly was driving, I sat in the back on the "hump" between the kids. My back, neck and legs were severely cramped. Claustrophobic thoughts plagued me. The small TV was on the front folded passenger seat so that the kids could see the movies. The dog, Lakota, sat right behind me and was probably the best behaved of all of us. A more mellow animal, you could not find. When I was driving, Holly sat where I had been sitting. Personal belongings were stacked where ever we could find a likely spot.

By the time we got to Oklahoma, Will had really had about all he could stand. He no longer cryed, he wailed. I felt bad for him but we didn't know what else we could do. As Holly drove past Tinker Air Force Base, I suddenly received a very unusual thought. "Move the heavy toilet articles bag to the floor." When thoughts like that come, out of nowhere, I should not argue, I should obey, but did I obey? No...I argued. What for? I can hardly move my feet as it is. "Move the heavy toilet articles bag to the floor!" It made no sense to me but I complied. Not a minute later, there was a delay in freeway traffic and Holly was forced to hit the brakes hard. Everything that was stacked up behind me came forward and fell on Will and Camryn and on the floor. Blankets, jackets and stuffed animals fell everywhere, but there was nothing heavy behind me since I had put the toilet articles bag on the floor. The kids were both screaming in fear at the sudden stop but we were OK, just a little shaken. The toilet articles bag would have crushed Will, had it not been moved. God was watching over us again. His angels to "bear us up."

We survived that trip and soon were living once again in to the comfort of our own homes. There have been many trips since then and He continues to watch over us, despite our follies.

AN INDEPENDENT SPIRIT

In 1976, when we discovered that my wife was with child again, we decided to name our soon to be born addition, either Tim, if a boy, or Melanie, if a girl. This was back before it was fashionable to know the gender of the baby, before it was born. Two months prior to the due date, my mother-in-law, Floy, said, "Well, personally, I think she should be named after Metta Marie Olson Jorgensen, from the Norwegian side of the family." That was all it took. Within seconds, we agreed.

On the 27th of that year, Metta Marie Ray came into our family. She was a healthy, beautiful girl, with dancing eyes and an independent spirit. The day I took her to get her nine month old picture, a tradition for all our kids when they were that age, she had a very runny nose but put up with the extra attention and smiled sweetly for the camera. When she was in about the first or second grade, while we were living in Okinawa, Japan, her teacher told us that Metta was definitely a leader.

The Japanese guards on the base would always wave at her and run their fingers thru her blond hair. To do so was considered a lucky token. The same thing would happen with other Japanese while shopping or anywhere. They would do so and then say, "Ahdegottoe," or thank you, which is the way it sounded, not the way it was really spelled. After a while, Metta would begin to say, "The Ahdegottoe people like me." And indeed they did.

Following our oriental assignment, we stopped over in Disneyland, before a concurrent overseas tour to Europe. Somewhere in Fantasyland, we realized that Metta was missing. We fanned out in all directions looking for one lost little girl, but to no avail. Nothing can be quite so terrifying as searching for a child in a crowded area, without success. After about thirty minutes, I spotted her standing in front of the merry-go-round in complete fascination. Not wanting to sound too alarmed, I said to her, "Metta, whatcha doin'?" "Nothin," she replied. "Just lookin." I don't think she even noticed that we weren't around.

While stationed for three years near Frankfurt, Germany, she often would stop by my military duty section, visit with me briefly and get a soda or candy bar from our snack bar. She and her siblings were frequent visitors and sometimes even missed the bus by visiting too long.

Today she has a husband and children of her own. She is struggling to achieve a college degree and is quick to help those in trouble. Recently she and her mother drove clear to southern Texas and back to help her sister. It was an ordeal that required a huge sacrifice. We're glad she's part of our family and has put that independent spirit to so much use.