Traveling the Rock Road

5’2”, long blond hair, blue eyes with a face like an angel; and there she was sitting and talking to me. “Lord if you call me home now, I will definitely die a happy man!”  It was summer and the hot spot to be in northern Ohio was a club called Surf Place, a place that catered to the 18 to 21 crowd and where my buddy and I would go whenever we had the chance. It was there he introduced me to Jill, a senior in college who was vacationing with her parents on Lake Erie. Though she was 3 years older than me we hit it off immediately and we spent the rest of the evening laughing, dancing and drinking beer. At closing time my friend, his girl, plus Jill and I drove around the lake region until we found a small beach where some others had built a bonfire they were sitting around; so we stopped and joined in. Such a beautiful night and there I was enjoying it with this beautiful girl. So I thought until Jill leaned over, whispered in my ear; “Can we get away from everyone and just be by ourselves?” The sky was star filled; there was a gentle sound of small waves splashing against rocks as they made their way to shore. When we were a good distance from the rest we knelt down onto the sand, and stayed together until the sun began to come up, and we talked. (Had a couple of you going there for moment, huh?!) I confess it was a thrill to have the attention of such a gorgeous creature, but it didn’t take much to see Jill wasn’t looking for a lover or a summer fling; she was looking for a friend, someone to listen to what was on her heart. Perhaps my ego wanted something more, but there was no way I was going sacrifice what she really needed at that time, someone to listen to her. Before she returned to college for the fall semester we met several more times always the same scenario, someplace quiet to talk. Then one day I realized something, I was doing all possible to be a help to Jill when actuality she was being a help and teaching something to me. Before she came along, I don’t know if I ever took time to really get to know a girl, except physically. If there was something else that made them special, other than looks, I totally missed it. For the first time I was seeing a woman in a more intimate setting than I ever had before; I was seeing her heart and all it took was to listen.

It’s been said, “Taking time to truly listen to someone can communicate our love and respect even more than our spoken word.” What I learned from Jill gave me a better relationship with the one I would eventually fall in love with and chose to spend the rest of my life. Without an understanding of just how valuable listening, really listening to others is, I doubt my marriage would be as wonderful as it is some 42 years later.  From me and my Lady, “Thank you Jill.”

As for what I did for her, not much really other than what I’ve related–being a good listener. Well maybe a listener who came to share a small portion of her pain as my heart ached for this child’s sadness. For you see Jill had a deep love for someone who she lost; not a friend or a lover, someone closer. Two years prior Jill’s older brother was killed in action in Viet Nam. Now you tell me, what’s more important, making it with a beautiful girl or being there for her as she tries to put the pieces of a broken heart back together.

Philippians 2:4: “Let each of you look out not only for your own interest, but also for the interest of others.”

It’s now been over 40 years since the last time I crossed paths with this angelic “Traveler of the Rock Road. I would love to know how she is but unfortunately that probably will never happen. I guess I’ll have to be content knowing God allowed me to give a long blond haired, blue eyed girl with the face of an angel what she needed that summer many years ago; a listening and compassionate ear.

Now someone just try and tell me I didn’t have the best time of my life!

See ya next time!

My Lady and I are gone today so I’m not writing my regular “Traveling the Rock Road.”

But as we take a moment to remember all who served in the military and paid the highest price to protect all of us here in the good old U.S.of A., I’d like to share two poems that touched my heart.

God Bless America!

A short Memorial Day poem by Emily Toma

Remember those who served before.

Remember those who are no more.

Remember those who serve today.

Remember them as we eat and play.

Remember our protectors-

who are not home today.

Remember them all on Memorial Day.

Somewhere Out There by Dr. Bill McDonald

Somewhere out there today,

In a land far, far away.

A soldier rides patrol,

Knowing not what may unfold.

He keeps watch, as he rides,

Over dangerous countryside.

Roadside bomb, could be hit.

Scary, but this soldier doesn’t quit.

Think about Mom and Dad,

About the good times had,

State-side, how long here?

Back to watching, a little fear.

This was a good day,

To think and to pray.

Strange, that prayer is so right,

When there could be a fire fight.

Wheel back into base,

Tomorrow, another ride to face.

Convoys done for the day,

Looks like rain’s on its way.

Nerve racking job but boring too,

But that’s what soldiers do.

So many over here, none alike,

Who have gladly joined this fight.

Freedom has a high cost,

Lives given, the ultimate loss.

That cost they willingly give,

So freedom can continue to live.

So, we remember today,

All those who went away-

And gave their lives, that we,

Might live here and stay free.

God Bless America!

See ya next time.

Kate’s fast talking, plus being nearly breathless from excitement made it difficult to understand her over the phone. “I’ve won, I’ve won millions, enough to take care of everyone for the rest of our lives!” Something that came in the mail convinced her that she won a large sum of money and now was calling everyone she knew to celebrate also. “That’s wonderful,” I answered happy as I could for her. When the call ended Cathy and I looked at each other and sighed. The times we had received a call from Kate declaring her new fortune were many. She constantly entered contests that promised great wealth to the winners.  But Kate confused easily, and each time she received a letter from a sponsor of some game she took it to mean she had won, only to realize later she had misinterpreted, and no riches would be coming her way.

Kate’s motives for entering contests weren’t so much greed; earning a small income over her life, of course she hoped to hit it big, but she also wanted to share any winnings with her family that she loved dearly. But out of their love they saw this pattern as a problem and tried hard to convince her that she needed to stop entering sweepstakes and that they loved her without riches. Finally it appeared their efforts paid off and Kate declared she was finished with lotteries and prize programs. Or so she said. When Kate retired she talked about doing some traveling and maybe some volunteer work. Unfortunately, she did little with either plan and mostly sat in her apartment watching TV and little else, at least so everyone thought.

One afternoon a phone rang with the voice on the other end asking, “Hello, are you related to Kate? Well she’s down here with a piece of paper believing it’s a big check and demanding we cash it. Can you come down to help convince her we’re not lying to her?” The task was a big one, but her family got her loaded up in the car and headed for home. Examining what Kate was trying to cash, it did indeed look like a check; but further inspection showed it was nothing but a solicitation for money with a promise that millions would be in her future. There were other letters with the same message; “You’ve won the big cash, just send from $10 to $100 for processing and then the check will be in the mail!” Searching the apartment they found more bogus promissory letters, stacks of them stuffed in drawers and boxes. “Kate have you been sending these people money?” they asked.  She was reluctant to answer for some time, but finally turned over her bank account so they could see for themselves. The amount of withdrawals were countless, literally thousands of dollars had been taken out, all sent to these human jackals. One company even had permission to take money automatically each month. The family worked at trying to get some of her money returned, to no avail. All the different sweepstakes companies had over sea’s addresses which meant nothing legally could be done; a large portion of Kate’s retirement fund was now gone.

It’s easy to look at Kate and wonder how someone could be so foolish. But actually it happens often; con games run on the elderly run rampant here in the good old U.S. of A. She had been charmed into believing fortune waited just ahead of the next so called processing fee, so sad that her and many more learn this lesson the hard way with some left penniless. But what do we say about the perpetrators who steal from these folks? Sure we’ve all heard “Caveat Emptor,” Let the buyer beware, but I’ve wondered about these faceless people who create scams that prey on the senior citizens. What are they like? Do they have a family of their own, their own aged to care for? Is it easier to live with your deceit when you can’t see the people you’ve hurt? I agree with Billy Graham when he says this; “When wealth is lost, nothing is lost; when health is lost, something is lost; when character is lost, all is lost.”

In Proverbs we read; “Better is a poor man who walks in his integrity than a rich man who is crooked in his ways.”  One’s who think their wrongs will never catch up with them are sadly mistaken, my hope and prayer is one day conviction will overtake them and they will seek Grace and Mercy, before it’s too late.

As for ones like Kate who “Travel the Rock Road,” well I pray families will do all they can to protect their beloved elderly from the wolves. I know Kate’s family wished they had done something sooner, still it didn’t deter the feelings they had for this old gal. She may have found herself in financial ruin, but she never lost sight of the riches she had through the love of her family and her Lord. I know this to be true for you see Kate was the nickname of my mom.

See ya next time.

I used to get invitations to speak at youth groups, mostly church affiliated, about my past life playing in rock bands and taking drugs. Of course the purpose wasn’t to bring accolades to these subjects; it was to talk about a dark past with no hope of a future that is until I came to know Jesus as Savior. This wasn’t an unusual method that some churches were using back in the 70s in an effort to deter the teens of the day from making mistakes. And since I also had heard ones speak on this subject, I learned it wasn’t that hard to emulate. For 45 minutes you would tell incredible stories like almost making it to the top, but drugs became the hammer that made all the dreams come crashing down, leaving life in complete desolation. I would tell stories that would keep my audience in awe with some funny tales thrown in so the mood wouldn’t get too heavy, that is, until the big crash and burn. But take heart, all would be salvaged in the last few minutes by taking about Jesus and how I was now a changed man. Afterwards people would crowd around to tell me how my story encouraged and convicted them to do right. Truthfully, it left me feeling pretty good up as I sat there on my high horse; that is until one comment from a young boy knocked me right out of the saddle.

I noticed him sitting by himself toward the back of a group I was speaking to one evening. This pimple-faced youngster kept the same blank stare on his face during the whole presentation. At the close others came forward to talk to me, but I noticed him again standing in the distance still staring with that same empty expression. When I able get away; I walked over, shook his hand and introduced myself. “Well it’s obvious you have something on your mind,” I said. “Is there anything I can help you with?” That was a question I wished I hadn’t asked soon after.  “You spoke of your wild life and of your change; everybody thinks you’re pretty cool. Well I’ve never drank, took drugs smoked or used foil language. I’ve known Jesus all my life and try to do the things the Bible says I should.” That’s awesome,” I told him. Then he continued, “So why does someone like you who lived a life doing wrong seem great to people and someone like me who’s tried to do right gets picked on and treated like I’m weird?” I put my arm around his shoulder and said, “You’re doing awesome and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” Even though I tried convince him that he wasn’t looked at as weird, truth of the matter is I knew he was.

His words rang in my ears all the way home and that night when I tried to sleep. I’d seen kids like him all my life; be it classroom, sports, recreation and yes even church youth groups, you’ll always find that one who doesn’t fit in simply because he’s different perhaps like my young friend here. Because of his convictions and ways he was seen as different than the rest, the square peg trying to fit in a round hole as some would say. Those differences made him a target for teasing and insults, an outcast from the very ones who should have been his support, his friends. Then along comes someone like me with stories of hell-raising which were alright to tell so long as I took a moment to go, “Yea God” at the end. That young man’s remark made me take a hard look at myself and ask what I was doing that was so great anyway and who was I really doing it for.  Corrie ten Boom said, “It is not my ability, but my response to God’s ability, that counts.”

Whenever I spoke I emphasize all “I” had done, truthfully not giving more credit to God for a changed life. That’s not saying I was faking a belief in the Lord, I just hadn’t taken the time to get to know who I was supposed to be representing, while totally missing opportunities to tell of His love, grace, mercy and forgiveness.

I remember opening the Bible and seeing these words for the first time – “All a person’s ways seem pure to them, but motives are weighed by the Lord.” (Proverbs 16:2).   In other words “Man sees your action, but God sees your motive.” Here was an avenue that made me popular with many, but did little to tell about Christ who I claimed to represent. There’s a saying from my neck of the woods that goes like this, “That dog don’t hunt!” That lad’s question showed me how my testimony was nothing more than a farce, something to make me look good while forgetting to pay rightful tribute to the One who made me who I am today or to quote an old hymn, “a sinner redeemed by the blood of the Lamb.” To some that may not sound as cool as playing Rock music or having a Psychedelic drug experience, but when you look at it from a standpoint of what God offers us eternally, well it’s more awesome than your wildest dreams.

I stopped taking speaking engagements and became a little known blog writer in hopes of telling a little of my story and a whole lot of my Savior’s. Do I accomplish that? Well time will tell, I guess. As for the young “Traveler of the Rock Road” that challenged me, I hope to one day run into him in Heaven.  I have something to tell him,“You may not remember me, but you’re one of the coolest people I ever met. You are my Hero!”
See ya next time.

During the summer of 1972 I took a job at a convenience store that sat across the road from East Harbor State Park on Lake Erie. The job didn’t pay a lot and it was too far from my hometown to make it worth driving. But this was going to be my 1^st summer totally on my own and I was excited for the adventure, even if it meant sleeping in a tent; which was exactly what happened. Not able to afford rent, I borrowed a tent from my girlfriend and took up residence at the park in the primitive camping section. Now that might sound fun to you young people (and I’ll admit parts of it were) but if your idea of a good time is making dinner out of a bag of Frito’s and a soda (and then the same thing for breakfast), having a 50 yard walk, especially in the dead of night to the restroom and shower house that was always smelly and never any hot water, heading to bed as soon as night comes on because you don’t have a TV or stereo or “electricity,” and the best part, wearing clothes that smell so bad from not being washed that the flies won’t even come around you, then yep it was awesome! Okay yes it was bad, but things did get better.

A gal in the camp store showed me how to use the washer and dryer they had, other campers were kind enough to share food and meals with me and I came to enjoy the tranquility and serenity the outdoors had to offer after a day’s work; that is until Friday night rolled around. It was then the campground would fill up with young people, the air would be filled with the smell of burning wood, hot dogs and beer would be plentiful and the party would be in full swing until the early hours of the next day. I enjoyed Fridays for all the reasons mentioned, but it also brought friends from my hometown who were glad to see me and more than willing to share whatever intoxicating beverage they brought with them. Those moments with friends and getting crazy made all the other problems fade away. And yes we were drinking too much and even smoking a little marijuana, but we were young having the time of our lives and we weren’t hurting anybody, not even ourselves. So it seemed.

One evening I left the group I had been partying with and took a walk around campground to see if there was anyone else from home that might be there. Sure enough on the far side I came across a group standing in the dark around a tent not really doing much. I was going to walk on past when I noticed a figure of a person that seemed familiar. “Hey Rick,” I called and the individual walked over. Sure enough it was an old friend I use to hang out with in junior high. John, good to see you; hey can we borrow you flashlight for a few minutes?” Taking my light Rick hurried back to the tent where a young woman and two very large men were. “Its dream time children,” the gal called out in an airy voice. About a dozen disappeared into the tent leaving me in the darkness to wonder what the devil was going on. It wasn’t long before I figured out the answer. One by one they emerged from the tent each holding one arm close to their body and bent up at the elbow. Slowly each sat down wherever they could or just stood staring into the black night. “Thanks” is all I heard as the girl and her two bodyguards walked past, handed back my flashlight, then got in a car and left. Took me a few seconds to find where Rick was, then I noticed him sitting on the ground near the tent. “Hey you okay buddy?” The expression on his face was now much different from the one a few minutes prior, like someone slowly waking out of a deep sleep. “Yeah, John I’m great, good to see you.” I wanted desperately to look in the tent but another guy seemed to be standing sentry blocking any chance to taking a peek.

Returning to my group I told them about Rick and what went on, to which a couple of them verified my suspicions. These people were shooting drugs into veins with a needle; mainlining. To use the cliché “The age of innocence was over.”

Over the years I have thought often about that night and people I’ve known that moved from the casual buzz a few beers or a little reefer would bring, to experiments with hallucinogenics like LSD and finally graduating to drugs like cocaine and heroin that offered an immediate but temporal escape from reality. Few that fell into that final category are with us today. For the longest time when I look back at that summer of change I asked myself why would anyone do such a thing?

Writer Dan Pearce says; “We all have to escape from this thing called life sometimes. Maybe we use substances to do it. Maybe we use religion. Maybe we use exercise. Maybe we use anger. But we all have to do it. *How* we do it is what defines us.”

The more I thought about it the more I had to agree with Dan. There are many who have a problems coping with life as they see it. So they immerse themselves with things that help keep the real world out–drugs, alcohol, shallow relationships, workaholic, and yes even religion. But as before mentioned, none really are lasting remedies to the real problem, which when we spell it out is how you, me, all of us, really cope with the good and bad of life.

I imagine in Pearce’s theory he would say I chose religion as my life escape. But frankly I would have to disagree with him; first I don’t see myself as a religious man, but a man of faith. Secondly I don’t use my faith as an escape from life, but rather a mechanism to enhance the world and the joy that is around me.

Once again I quote C.S. Lewis, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

As fellow “Travelers of the Rock Road,” all of us will have situations that are more than we can handle by ourselves. So do we take a temporary route to the tackle the problem only to find it still exists, or do we look for a permanent, an eternal solution that gives hope, joy, and life?

I know this is a little darker than I usually write, but its weighed heavy on my heart ever since I learned Rick’s life ended way too young and, from what I’ve learned from others, with no hope, no joy. Then I realized I’ve know a lot of Ricks. I bet you do also.

Perhaps next week I’ll lighten back up, but for now let me leave you with my favorite Bible passage, Romans 15:13 – “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

Hope, joy, peace. Awesome!

See ya next time.

One of my Bethel Journeys took place 12 years ago shortly after the doctor informed me of a possible malignant tumor in my left lung. I was to be scheduled for more testing immediately, but instead Cathy and I made our way to the Blue Ridge Mountains where we hiked trails that lead us to awe inspiring cascading waterfalls and overlooks to majestic mountains. When we returned home I had the procedures done the doctor and it was found I did not have a tumor.

Another time found me alone walking a mile or better of Lake Erie shoreline in the dead of winter. The water was frozen and brilliant white like Arctic tundra, the wind was whipping around me with a haunting high pitched melody as it skirted across the ice and into the tree line on the shore. The sun was brilliant on that frigid day, with a crystal blue sky that seemed to stretch forever to meet the horizon. A few days later I took a job that didn’t pay as well as I was making at the time but would end up being my occupation for years to come.

Then on a couple of occasions I’d travel back to my birth home in Southern West Virginia and spend hours driving the country back roads through, around and over the mountains that I love so dearly there, and remembering my childhood and the many wonderful people I knew as family that once lived there. At the end of one of those visits I forgave, in my heart, several people I held ill feelings toward.

This last Bethel Journey really didn’t take me to one place, but more continuous driving past lakes, down country roads lined with miles of farmland, quiet drives in a forest and back roads through scores of little communities that make up the landscape commonly referred to as Americana. At the end of this earth bound voyage, I now begin my transition into retirement and whatever God may have in store from here on.

So what exactly is a Bethel Journey and what is its main purpose? Well to say I’m going to Bethel is symbolic really; as you can tell I’ve gone to numerous places and it’s impossible for each place to be named the same. But it isn’t as much about a place as it is a, well, a renewing, a recharging of my life. But mostly it’s relational as it is time spent alone and in communion with the one I call Lord. This is time totally dedicated to talking to God, reading His Word, listening for that small voice inside me that says “I’m here for you.”

In the Bible (Genesis 35) we read about Jacob and his first encounter of meeting God and hearing his voice was at Bethel. Without a doubt when he left that place Jacob left a changed man. But as time went on there were problems and most likely a slipping away from the things in his life he promised to turn over to God. So he returned to Bethel where he renewed his vow and God blessed him once more. Well, for this man there are many times I realize my walk with the Lord is not what is should be, even during times I’ve needed his help the most. When those moments become more than I can bear alone, I return to Bethel. For me it’s found in God’s creation, in the hills and the valleys, in the streams and lakes, in the ocean and the fields. All places that I take in the beauty of this earth become Bethel to me. And when I make these return trips it is spent in hours of prayer, not with formal words to try and impress Him, but conversation, just like you and I would have. Telling Him all that’s on my heart, saying I’m sorry for the times I wander from His guidance, thanking my God for all the blessings (as well as naming them) that He has allowed in my life. And thanking Him for always caring for me; no matter what I do His love stays strong continuously. During these journeys there’s very little radio or TV, this is meant as a time solely set apart to spend with my Lord.

Now then, saying all that; do these Bethel Journeys make me a better person, kinda of a Holy Joe of sort? Nope, I’m still just me, nothing incredibly special. These times are purely meant for giving God all of me without any outside interference. To talk, listen, learn and even heal.

Matthew 11:28 – “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Psalm 46:10 – “He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

Perhaps some see this as senseless; truthfully there was a time I would have thought so also. But I can attest truthfully, each time I have met God like this I have come away refreshed, strengthened and focused on what I need to do.

“We can be tired, weary and emotionally distraught, but after spending time alone with God, we find that He injects into our bodies energy, power and strength.” (Charles Stanley)  And someone else once said, “Spending time with God puts everything else in perspective.”

As I “Travel the Rock Road” the one thing for sure is I need all the help I can get. God is saying “Hey, I’m here for you, come to me.” Give it a shot is all I ask, you’ll be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.

If anyone wants to do their own Bethel Journey and not sure how to get started, give me a shout. Remember, not everyone’s Bethel lies in the same place. But wherever yours may be, God’s already there waiting on you. Awesome!

See ya next time.

Well now that’s it over and I’m officially retired, I have to say how overwhelmed and humbled it’s left me from all the well wishers both friends and family. Had a nice sendoff my last day of work that I’ll remember for years to come. Then on Saturday I was given a party hosted by my wife and children; this bought together many people from work and my life here in Indiana that still has me smiling. My two oldest and dearest friends both traveled a good ways to be with me, and that truly meant a lot. But I suppose the biggest moment came when Jeremy, my oldest son grabbed a microphone, had me stand directly in front of him and proceeded like this. “Dad has always tried to make our family’s lives fun and special with doing unique things and traveling many places. Afterwards if we asked dad if he had a good time he’d say, well it was alright but I didn’t get my pony. All our lives we’ve heard about this pony that he wanted but never got. So dad, turn around look outdoors and say hello to your pony.” WooHoo!!!! There she, Sugar, a 40-year-old pony brought to the party by one of my co-workers with blue ribbons in her mane. Too Awesome!! Well it took a little to haul my keister up on the saddle but soon I was making a lap around the yard on this trusty steed; “Hi-Ho Sugar!!”

Okay now for the first time ever I will now confess to my family, no I never really wanted a pony–well maybe a little.  But when you really don’t have any wants, well it’s more fun to ask for a pony than it is a Porsche. I hope you won’t take this wrong, but I’m a man who feels he is deeply blessed with riches beyond my wildest dreams. As a child I never had a real place to call home; so my little ranch style abode may not be much to someone else, but to me it’s a castle.

I had a tremendous mother, but no other immediate family and that can be a little lonely. Now look at me, the greatest wife God could have brought along to make me whole, six kids counting in-law youngin’s, and six grandchildren with another on the way. God took a lonely boy and surrounded him with incredible people to love and make him whole. You throw in others that call me dad or grandpa and I have enough family to file for my own zip code.

You take world possessions and I may not have enough to fill a semi, but over the years I’ve come to see everything as exactly what I need, as what God has given me out of His love for me to enjoy.  So when someone asks what do you want or what would be more fulfilling to me, I really don’t have a want. So my answer “I want my Pony!”

G.K. Chesterton once made this statement; “You say grace before meals.  Alright.  But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink”

In other words if its there for you, it’s worthy of being thankful for.

And Beecher put it like this; “The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!”

But one of my favorite writers says it best;

“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

When this “Traveler of the Rock Road” looks at all he has, how can he really yearn for something more. Besides now I’m complete, “I GOT MY PONY!!”

I’m leaving for a few days on what I refer to as a Bethel Trip. Will look forward to catching up with you father down the Rock Road.

See ya soon!

By the time I met old Ivan he was in his mid-60s but looked much older from his years working in the foundry. His hands were heavily calloused and his fingers went in different directions from the effects of arthritis. Still he showed up and did his job every day and was considered the best Muller Man in the plant. That’s someone who would prepare a combination of sand, clay and water to be made into molds that molten iron was poured into for the making of gray iron castings. The industry had testing equipment to ensure the molds were made properly, but Ivan liked the old process the best. Grabbing a handful of moist, hot, black sand he’d give it a good squeeze; by the feel and sight of what he held in his hand he could tell if he was making good or bad sand. Must have been something in that old man’s touch, because then we ran the lowest scrap rate due to mold damage in the history of the company.

I spent a week training with Ivan.  Whenever things were running fine (which was most of the time with him at the control), we’d have time for talk. Three tidbits he gave me have stuck all these years later all dealing with life. “So what brought you to the foundry?” He asked one day. “Truthfully it was the highest paying place to get into easy,” I responded.  “I’m not planning on staying here, this is just temporary. “Yeah me, too” he countered. Then with a smile, “That temporary was 45 years ago. Other than when I went off to war this is all I’ve known and I like it. It’s been good to me, kept me in paychecks, built my home, fed and clothed my family and even paid for my son’s college education. The way I see it, I might have done better somewhere else, but then I might have done a whole lot worse, main thing is I’m happy in my job.” (Tidbit #1)

“So what do want to do with your life if you don’t want to be here?” I usually answered that question with telling of my desire to play music, but nothing came.  “I don’t know,” I finally answered. “I would love to see the world, but I doubt if I’ll ever have the money to travel like I want.” “Can you read?” he questioned. “Yes, I can read,” I answered a little sarcastically. “Well, then can you afford to buy books or at least go to the library?” Yes was the answer to both questions; “What’s your point?” “Other than being in Europe during the war I haven’t seen a whole lot either. And when you have people shooting at you there’s not much chance of taking in the sights. But I love to read, and I’ve been all over the world from the books I’ve read and pictures in them. One of the big shots here couldn’t get over how I could tell him more about Rome than what he learned from being there for a week.  I plan to travel when I retire but the many places I still won’t make it to doesn’t matter, I’ve already been there.  God gave you a mind and an imagination, don’t let either go to waste.” (Tidbit #2)

The final gem came one evening when we got around to Ivan’s soon to be retirement. “So besides doing some traveling, you have any other plans when you retire?”  “Sure do,” he shot back. “I’m going to age slowly and live everyday to its fullest. I have a formula for that, wanna hear it?” “Oh absolutely,” I said thinking this ought to be good. He then asked, “You have a television?” “Yes, doesn’t everyone?” I answered with a chuckle. “Well, when you get home throw a rock through it.” What?!! Was he being serious; I didn’t have a chance to answer before he followed up with “Do you have a recliner or an easy chair?” About half afraid to answer I told him I did. “Drag it out in your backyard, soak it in gas and burn it!  Now you have nothing to dull your mind and make your backside grow large as you sit for hours doing nothing.  Then get busy living; that’s what we were made for anyway you know.” (Tidbit #3)

I heard it once said “Never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life”

Perhaps old Ivan was feeding me a line, but from what I learned from ones who knew him better than me he lived his life by this saying. It wasn’t to impress others or for bragging rights to draw attention to himself; I believe it was for the sole and the “soul” purpose of making his days more than just an existence but a achievement of a happy life. Awesome!

Well Ivan, this “Traveler of the Rock Road lived to a ripe, productive and happy old age. As I learned more about him I came to realize that we would meet up again some day because of faith in the one he knew as Lord. And when we do, I hope to let him know how much his tidbits of wisdom taught me, not only in my physical, but my spiritual life.

Tidbit #1 – Ecclesiastes 6:9 – “Enjoy what you have rather than desiring what you don’t have. Just dreaming about nice things is meaningless—like chasing the wind.”

Tidbit #2 – 2 Timothy 2:15 – “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth”

Tidbit #3 – Matthew 19:26 – “With God there is no limit what you can do; there is no obstacle you can’t overcome. Through Him, all things are possible.

Thank you Ivan

As I now approach my own retirement and think back on the words of my friend I believe I’m going to make a card to carry in my wallet that goes something like this:

“I’m going to make the rest of my life, the best of my life”

Don’t know about you, but it seems like a good idea to me.

See ya next time.

Jimmie couldn’t believe his ears and what they were hearing. Perhaps he hadn’t totally woken from the nap he was taking when the phone rang. Was this a joke, one of his friends pranking him? Did the person on the other end of the line dial his number instead of the party he was trying to reach? No, it was no joke being played or a wrong number; and he was completely awake as he heard the voice on the phone. This was incredible!

Jimmie Nicol had made quite a name for himself in the London area as a drummer. He had done a lot of studio session work playing on other people’s LPs, and had performed with several up and coming bands touring with at least two. He had grown accustomed to the phone ringing with someone looking for a drummer for this project or that concert; but nothing could have prepared him for what he was now being asked to do. The caller was none other than George Martin producer of the biggest band not only in England but on the planet. His words made Jimmie go completely numb for a few minutes; “Jimmie, how would you like to travel and be the drummer for the Beatles?” It was the summer of 1964 and Ringo Starr had collapsed with tonsillitis and was hospitalized.

The band was preparing for a big tour and Martin persuaded the remaining Beatles to use a backup drummer until Ringo was well again. Just over a day later Jimmie was behind the drum set, wearing one of Ringo’s suits and playing his first concert in Copenhagen, Denmark as a Beatle. For nearly the next two weeks he would earn more money than he ever had in his life, have more girls want to touch him, and take in more notoriety and fame than he ever could have imagined beyond his wildest dreams. This was so awesome, up to that moment and except for the music scene in London, Jimmie was a complete unknown. Now he was playing to sold-out arenas, signing autographs, doing interviews and running for his life from a multitude dreamy eyed, love struck teenage girls. Life couldn’t get any better for a young man with hopes and dreams of musical stardom; that is until 13 days into the concert tour. The band’s manager Brian Epstein informed Jimmie that Ringo had recovered and would be rejoining the band the next day.

After 8 shows Jimmie found himself alone, early morning at the Melbourne, Australia Airport waiting for a flight to take him back to London. He wasn’t able to tell the other three Beatles goodbye because of the early hour. Looking around his surroundings, hardly another person was present, and the ones who were paid little attention to the young man sitting all alone, the feelings of obscurity flooded him.  Returning to London he tried to use his 15 minutes of fame to build a music career with his own band, unfortunately no one gave notice to a short time Beatle. There were a couple of other fleeting moments where he sat in with the likes of the Dave Clark 5, but nothing permanent or even close to what he experienced as a Beatle. By the late 60s Nicol was totally out of the music industry saying in several interviews “Standing in for Ringo was the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

I once heard a quote that went like this; “When you’re dreaming with a broken heart the waking up is the hardest part.”

In a sense I relate very well to Jimmie Nicol as I’m sure many others do also. Not to the same level of course; this man was given opportunity to play with the greatest Rock band in history, and then it was over. But so many of us like Jimmie have experienced disappointment from what we thought our life was going to be to the reality of where we end up instead. Our visions of grandeur and honor are harshly replaced with the cold reality of just a simple ordinary life.

But one day my question became “So what’s wrong with that?!!” Yes like Jimmie Nicol, I had my hopes and dreams. Just because they didn’t pan out, does that really make me a loser? Is it so wrong to just have a normal life without the fanfare? I’ve come to recognize that a man made dream can often become a nightmare anyway. Let’s say I accomplished what I thought should be my goal in life; would I have what I have now? The wife of 42 years that I adore, the children and grandchildren who bless me so fully, the little house that we built and made a home, the trade I found myself in all these years, or even the opportunity to interact with you good folks? I think it’s a safe bet I wouldn’t have any of it and that, dear friends and family, I’ve learned is more important than fame and fortune. Of course I’ve had a great teacher that has taught me things like this;

Proverbs 3:5 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”

Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope”

2 Corinthians 4:16-18 “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

When I weigh all that; I’d say I’ve gained more than I lost, wouldn’t you?

As for our “Traveler of the Rock Road,” well I don’t know; but I always hope that others made the same discovery I did. I do know that Jimmy seemed to vanish for nearly 4 decades and it was even believed he passed away. But to the contrary he’s done quite well in the home renovation business and has a son that is an award winning sound engineer. He may have a legacy of being what the media has called the “Forgotten Beatle,” but still sounds like a winner to me!

See ya next time.

As most already know I’ll be retiring soon from my job. A friend told me I would be missed because of my positive attitude. Flattered, I thanked him, but also owned up that it hadn’t always been that way.  It was some years before I came to see my job, the place I worked and especially the other people who worked there as a blessing. He then proceeded to tell the story of his dad and his dad’s pal.

They both worked for the city where my friend lived as child. Their jobs consisted of street cleaning and repair, picking up trash, keeping the local parks neat, setting up and tearing down for special events held in the town, and giving new coats of paint to everything that needed spruced up in the community. His dad was well thought of and people would often stop and talk for a moment when they saw him. “They liked my dad because he always had a pleasant word for everyone no matter what. We didn’t have a lot of money, but folks were always giving him things like lawn furniture and items for the house that dad would take and fix up like new.  Every summer he would take our family on a nice vacation to places like the ocean, Niagara Falls, and even the Grand Canyon. He would pick up odd jobs through the year or work an extra shift on the garbage truck, anything to bring in money so we’d have a nice trip.”

His dad’s friend, on the other hand, was always in a bad mood. He’d yell at people for making his job harder so most would avoid him. His dad would try to get him to be nicer to folks but he would answer, “Why should I? All they do is make my life hell around here!”  He told me how his father would come home as soon as he wasn’t working, but his pal would head straight to the bar. “Said he had to ‘throw back a few’ before he got home or his wife and kids would drive him crazy, but I knew his kids.  They were terrified of him when he was home because of his terrible temper, even worse after he had been drinking.  They were like us and didn’t have much so dad would offer to share some of his side jobs with him, but he’d have no part of that.  What’s all that extra going to do for you when you work yourself into an early grave; no thanks!” He’d say. I began to get a mental picture of two totally different individuals, one that saw nothing good, and the other who was thankful for everything.

“Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.” –   William Arthur Ward

“The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.” –  H. U. Westermayer

I told my friend, “I’d considered it an honor to meet your dad someday.” But the look in his eye and the lowering of the head told me that wasn’t to be. “Dad was so proud when I went off the college. During my junior year mom called to say they believed he had a massive heart attack during the night and never woke up.” He went on to describe how hundreds turned out for the viewing telling the family how much they liked dad and how he going to be missed dearly. Even his disillusioned friend made an appearance. “Well I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, “but I always knew your old man would someday work himself into grave. Pity you weren’t even here to tell him goodbye.” “Whoa!” I said, “It must have taken a lot of self control on your part not to put a knot on his head.” My friend gently smiled and answered, “No, no need to; that just showed how much he didn’t know about dad.  My father was very strong in his faith believing one day he would be with Jesus, and he taught that to us kids. I may not have been here to say goodbye, but I know when I get to heaven he’ll be there waiting on me. Knowing that, I have peace that dad’s where he’d want to be.”  Then with a chuckle, “Probably wondering around heaven right now hunting for something to fix or paint!”

1 Thessalonians 5:18 – “In everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Psalm 100:4 – “Enter His gates with thanksgiving And His courts with praise Give thanks to Him, bless His name.”

Here was a Traveler of the Rock Road that knew the importance of being thankful in all situations, for he saw everything as a gift from God. I wonder how much the “gripe meter” would be lowered if we all took that attitude; just a thought.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” Colossians 3:17

Works for me!
See ya next time