The Fifteenth Annual Inspirations List: 2021

 When I was a kid, I used to think about what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Often I thought about the people I wanted to be like. Well, I'm just a year and some change shy of fifty now and most of the time I still feel like a little kid waiting to grow up.  And when I grow up, this year's slate of heroes is who I want to be like. 

The 2021 heroes stand out, not so much because of the heroic deeds they've done--though they definitely have done great deeds--but because of the kind of people they are.  They are people that, in their  faith, support, commitment, love, and priorities, I want to emulate. 

A couple of notes about this year's inspiring group.  The five men and five women are students and teachers, parents and pastors, mentors and role models. Two are being recognized posthumously, and I wish that I had been able to tell them how they inspired me while they both still lived.  Indeed with that reminder that it's important to let people know how much they matter while they can still hear it, this year I did something that I've only done occasionally in the past: I'm recognizing several individuals whose inspiring character isn't unique to this specific year.  Whether it's a bold decision made two decades ago or many years of exemplary living that I've followed with admiration for quite some time, these are people for whom acknowledgement is long overdue.  And finally there is a new "Heroes and Inspiration" record set. I've acknowledged a number of heroes more than once over the years, but for the first time, I am acknowledging a person for the third time--and she couldn't deserve it more!

Here they are, my heroes and inspirations for the year 2021:

Jeremy Wong

Dayshawn Stanford

Afia Ossei-Wusu

DeLaina Cox

Matthew Niemeyer

Rex & Clarie Kosack

John Abbott

Barbara Leen Maycock

Charlene Maloney

Jeremy Wong

I'm inspired by his commitment to youth

"I'm for your life."  That's the tagline to my favorite Mat Kearney song, "Life Time", a deep cut from his early years, and it describes exactly how Pastor Jeremy approaches his work with the youth he ministers to (see complete lyrics here).  Jeremy is all in what it comes to kids.  He plans the most amazing activities and adventures for the middle and high school students at Worthington Adventist Church.  He works hard to stay up on the latest youth trends, and he seeks to create an environment that is welcoming and youth friendly.  But that's standard youth pastor practice--what makes it meaningful is the heart Pastor Jeremy brings to everything he does.  He instinctively understands that the fun activities, knowledge of what's cool with kids today, and "making Jesus relevant" don't mean anything if he's not living the love of Jesus himself.  So Pastor Jeremy lives that love.  He is intentional in getting to know every one of the youth personally and letting them know that they are always welcome, no matter what.   I have personally witnessed his commitment to kids that others might have turned away.  He understands that kids aren't just part of the kingdom of God--they are its very heart.  And so he is fully committed to being an advocate and ally for all kids and doing whatever it takes to be there for them in their time of need.

 Youth pastors have tend to have a reputation for trying, perhaps too hard, to be hip.  But, to every kid who comes into Pastor Jeremy's orbit, he'll be the first to say.  "I'm not about all that. I'm for your life."

Dayshawn Stanford 

I'm inspired by his scholastic focus

He gets it.  He really gets it! It's like a switch went on and Dayshawn, went from having what we teachers like to call "potential" to living up to that potential, and even exceeding it. Seemingly overnight, Dayshawn  went from being a good student to being an outstanding one.  I remember reading his homework responses and listening to his observations during class discussions and being amazed by the depth of understanding he displayed.  Just watching his maturation and growth as a scholar, was a privilege. Now that Dayshawn is in high school, I fully expect he's continuing to excel.  But even if he hits a bump on his academic road, I know he'll get back on track. He knows how to succeed.  And as I continue to work with middle school students finding their way to greatness, I'll think of Dayshawn and be reminded that they can get it, just like he did.

Afia Ossei-Wusu

I'm inspired by her faith

Every morning she had the same prayer. Afia's prayer request was always that we'd be able to go back to school in person. This was her last year at Columbus Adventist Academy and she wanted to be with her classmates in-person before they all graduated from eighth grade.  I would dutifully pray for her request, but I confess privately, I was doubtful. We  were in the midst of a global pandemic that seemed to have no end in sight.  I just didn't see how we could go back to school this school year. I almost felt a little sad for Afia that she kept asking for the same thing--something that was basically impossible.  But Afia remembered something that I had forgotten in my grown-up skepticism--that with God nothing is impossible.  So I'm sure Afia wasn't surprised at all her when her prayer was answered.  Her school never went back to full in-person instruction during the 2020-2021 school year, but beginning in March 2021, her eighth grade class did.  She was able to spend every school day of the last three months of the school year in person with her classmates. Her year culminated with a wonderful graduation ceremony and epic class trip across the southeastern United States.  When I'm inclined to sell God short, I'm reminded of Afia's faith and my faith is strengthened as well.

DeLaina Cox

I'm inspired by her excellence

DeLaina raises every one's game. It's really that simple.  As soon as she signs on, she elevates the quality of whatever the endeavor is.  DeLaina is practical, no-nonsense, and asks the tough questions most would rather avoid.  And she does it all with deft tact and a kind spirit.  She's not about showing up other people or showing off her own considerable talent. She's brings a Fortune 500 level of competence and dedication to unpaid volunteer work. Her focus is an unselfish emphasis on quality and a successful outcome. I've had the privilege of watching DeLaina in action on a variety of school and church committees and she's never failed to impress me.  If you want something done right, make sure DeLaina is on your team.

Matthew Niemeyer 

I'm inspired by his legacy

His impact is that of a man twice his age. If you were to read the many tributes that have poured in for Matthew in the weeks since his untimely passing without knowing that cancer had claimed him too soon, you would assume that Matthew was well along in years.  His life may not have been long, but it was certainly full. His kindness, compassion, laughter and zest for life are inspiring to reflect on.  Though Matthew and I were schoolmates, we weren't close, but even so I could sense that he was a good and decent young man.  And in the wake of his death, I've been moved reading the many tributes of those who knew him and loved him, those who had been blessed by his professional expertise and soothing bedside manner.  As I reflect on Matthew's impact, I'm encouraged to seek to leave a legacy like his--one that recognizes that a full life is measured not in number of years, but in how we fill the lives of those around us.  I wish for the sake of his family and loved ones, that Matthew had been given many more years, but I'm inspired by how he used the years he had.

John Abbott

I'm inspired by his priorities

Pastor Abbott's most powerful sermon was preached without a word being spoken.  Well, not quite without a word.  I will never forget that Sabbath--probably around twenty years ago now.  Pastor Abbott was slated to preach but that morning he stood at the podium and announced that he was leaving.  His wife and daughter were sick at home and he needed to be with them. I was profoundly impressed by Pastor Abbott's bold decision to forgo a sermon we probably didn't need to provide the care his family so desperately required. I'm sure he couldn't have come to that decision easily.  After all, what would people think? In the end, that didn't matter--what mattered to Pastor Abbott is what God was calling him to do in that moment, and what his family needed.  So, he walked off the platform and out the door, and we sang a closing hymn and went home early.  And to this day, whenever I'm tempted to put "the work" above the people God has placed in my life, I'm reminded of the sermon Pastor Abbott lived out that day.

Rex & Clarie Kosack

I'm inspired by their marriage

We called them our Step Parents.  The name came from their leadership in our Marriage Encounter program, "Steps Along the Journey", a ten-week program of deep study of the principles of Marriage Encounter.  Rex and Clarie Kosack were, I believe, instrumental in developing the Steps curriculum and as far as I know the Mariana's Islands are the only place in the world where this crucial element is part of Marriage Encounter. 

But Rex and Clarie didn't just inspire me in an academic sense--they inspired me most of all by leading by example.  They showed all of the couples who went through the Steps journey what a working, successful marriage looked like.  Their willingness to share deeply of their experience had a powerful impact on us and on our marriage. The Kosacks modeled unconditional love, differentiated devotion, and mutual respect.  It wasn't that their marriage was perfect or without challenges--but that they showed how to work through imperfection and meet challenges with wisdom and grace.  Rex and Clarie lived out those familiar wedding vows loving and cherishing each other, for better or worse, in sickness and health, until death finally did part them.  My goal is to follow in the footsteps of my Step Parents and dear friends, Rex and Clarie Kosack.

Øystein LaBianca

I'm inspired by his example

Dr. LaBianca's master class is on how to live, and the syllabus is own life.  Pay attention and take notes everyone because there's no better teacher out there. There are so many things I admire about Dr. LaBianca.  He is intelligent, a deep thinker, and a man of many accomplishments. Yet he is also humble, kind, and thoughtful.  He has a practical spirituality that emphasizes care for his fellow man and for the planet we inhabit.  He is a man of deep conviction and great vision, and that combination of conviction and vision has resulted in a remarkable career, leaving his mark everywhere from Peru to the plains of the Madaba project to the halls of Andrews University. I have particularly appreciated how supportive Dr. LaBianca has been to me personally over the years. I've always felt that he was someone I could go to for a word of wise counsel and godly guidance.  In short, Dr. LaBianca is an example of the kind of man I want to be.

Barbara Leen Maycock

I'm inspired by her support

Babs has always been there for me.  I've known it and admittedly, I think I've often taken it for granted.  But I didn't fully grasp her steady support for me until I really needed it.  This year has been marked by what seems to be unrelenting grief for me. Dealing with the loss of one of my closest friends knocked me flat.  But it was Barbara's patient love, understanding heart and listening ear that enabled me to get up day after day and keep on going.  My wife is something of an expert in grief since the passing of her father in 2014.  She's been a strong advocate for the Grief Recovery Method in dealing with loss and her deep knowledge of what grief is enabled her to understand and accept my struggle. Thanks to her encouragement, I also did the Grief Recovery Method class this fall and found it to be instrumental in processing my loss.  But more than that she lived out the principles of Grief Recovery with me. She didn't hustle me to "get over it" and she didn't demand I justify my sorrow. Instead she sat with me in my sadness, comforted and supported me.  I have never felt more loved and I have never loved her more.  Thank you, Babs, more than you'll ever know.

Charlene Maloney

I'm inspired by her heart

A heart is the one thing that still works even when it's broken.  At least that's the case with Charlene Maloney.  I've known Mrs. Maloney a long time--ever since I was a teenager hanging out at her house with her daughter Chandra and our other friends back in high school.  She was always warm, welcoming, kind, and understanding. I remember those times when Chandra and I would be having one of our little tiffs, as adolescents do, and Mrs. Maloney would give me a comforting smile as if to say "It's okay, Sean, give it time. She'll come back around."  And of course Chandra did.  Charlene knew her daughter well and loved her with her whole heart.  And then a little more than a year ago Mrs. Maloney's heart was shattered into a million pieces with Chandra's sudden passing.  

And here is the miracle:  Though Mrs. Maloney carries a weight of unimaginable grief, her shattered heart still continues to love.  She continues to poor out warmth, welcome, kindness and understanding to her grandchildren, her children, to everyone around her.  And to me as well.  I, who hoped I could be some comfort to her hurting soul, found that so often she was a comfort to me.  The darkest grief has not dimmed to the light of her beautiful, broken and loving heart.

92: The One for Mrs. Hopkins

 by Heather Rice

The author and Mrs. Hopkins

This is a Here in America first.  For the first time ever, I'm posting an entry not written by me.  The honor goes to my dear friend, Heather Rice, who wrote this moving tribute to our high school English teacher, the incomprable Wanda Hopkins. When it comes to Mrs. Hopkins, Heather spoke the hearts of those of us who loved Mrs. Hopkins far better than I ever could.  Thank you, Heather, for being willing to let me share your heartfelt memorial to an amazing teacher and an incredible person.

This woman was such an inspiration to so many people. She was someone who was proper, polished, polite and passionate about literature and poetry. Wanda was someone I truly couldn’t get enough of, because just being around her made you feel like you were a better person. She inspired me to want to be someone to other children, and because of her I aspired to be a great teacher too.

She was my teacher for both high school and college, and I believe she is the most amazing educator I have ever known. She didn’t care about you earning an A, she cared for hearts. I remember I was a poor (very poor) student, who cared more for my social life and sports than I ever did about my grades. Wanda took me aside and asked me why I didn’t believe I was a strong writer? She sweetly told me that I was such a creative and brilliant girl, and one of the best writers she ever knew, but she knew I wasn’t giving her my best. It was that moment that I woke up and started caring. Sadly, it was late in my high school experience, but It left an impact on me I’ll never forget.

Wanda crossed my path again in college, where I was blessed to have her for Comp I and II, and soon I called her a colleague, after I was hired to work with her at Florida Hospital College. That’s where she changed from a teacher I loved to my mentor and friend. For nearly two years we had weekly working lunches, where we would go on about life and trials and laugh at the most ridiculous things. She would always lean across the table and pray the most earnest, heartfelt prayers anybody ever heard. Wanda was such a dear friend she coordinated my wedding , even reading a poem she picked by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “How Do I Love Thee?” I went and spent time with her a few weeks ago and I was blessed to be able to spend the afternoon reading that same poem to her, along with many she had us memorize in high school and beyond. What an honor to have been able to share that time with her. As I held her hand I whispered how much she meant to me in my life. I told her about the impact she had on me, and what her legacy truly was…one of love and kindness.

After our hilariously fun lunch dates Wanda would always finish, catching her breath from laughing and say, “Heather, when I get to heaven, I’m asking God to put my house right next to yours, so we can enjoy each other forever.” Wanda Hopkins, I can’t wait for the day when we are reunited and next door neighbors forever! I love you! Rest easy, beautiful friend!

Reflecting on Rex: A Life Well-Lived

 

Barbara and me with Clarie and Rex Kosack at the Kosack's home in Saipan. Christmas Day, 2006

"Life is short. I want to live it well."

Those are not Rex's words.  But they could easily have been. Because that's exactly what he did. He lived it well. And because of that I can hear his voice saying those words as clearly as if he had actually said them. I can picture us gathered in the living room of his and Clarie's beautiful home up on Wireless Ridge in Saipan.  We are getting ready to take our leave after an evening of growth and deep sharing, and I can hear Rex saying those words as some sort of a conclusion to a point he was making, offering this nugget of profound wisdom with his trademark mix of humility and confidence.

Rex's life was shorter than it deserved to be.  For a man who was so much larger than life, it seems impossible that death could take him at this time.  But cancer is a rat.  . .

But in the time that Rex had, he lived life to the fullest.  He lived it well.  Rex lived an active life. Cycling and windsurfing were among his many physical pursuits.  He also lived an active life of the mind. He was attorney and a sharp one at that. I would not have wanted to face him in a courtroom. I would definitely want to have him representing me.  But Rex also lived an active life of the spirit. He became a convert to the Christian faith as an adult and was an active member of his church.  He and his wife Clarie were also an integral part of the Marriage Encounter leadership team in Saipan.  It was through Marriage Encounter that we came to know and eventually became friends with Rex.

 For most people Marriage Encounter is a weekend experience, three days of bonding and deep sharing with your spouse. Even though you are at the weekend with a lot of other couples and spend at least some of the time in seminar type presentations, you really don't get to know anyone else other than your spouse during the weekend--and that's as it should be.  But Saipan has something unique, something you won't find many other places--if anywhere at all.  We have the "M.E." (Marriage Encounter) community, and Rex and Clarie Kosack were an instrumental part of that follow up. They coordinated a ten week series of weekly meetings called "Steps Along the Journey."  In them, participants review the concepts they learned at the weekend in depth.  And this time, its not "just the two of us. " We share this experience with two to three other couples led by a facilitating couple. The evening consists of some teaching and a lot of discussion among the couples and, if things went well, what Rex would call "deep sharing"; the sort of honesty that can only manifest where trust has been built.  Rex and Clarie were our facilitators in "Steps Along the Journey" and their mentorship and example enhanced our marriage immeasurably.  

Babs and I used to look forward so much those trips up to the Kosack's place every week .  It was our date night, and as such included incredible food and romantic panoramic views of the island from the Kosack's patio as the sun set over the sea and the lights of Saipan twinkled on.  But more than that, it was a time when we grew as a couple in a safe, loving space with other couples who became friends like family, couples who helped us know we weren't alone in the struggles that come with sharing your life with another human being.  Some of the stories shared on those evenings were incredible, life-changing, and  I've never forgotten them.   And Rex and Clarie presided over all of this.  We and the other couples jokingly referred to them as our "Step Parents."  They set a sterling example of a working marriage.  Just to watch the two of them interact, the synergy between them--Rex always the talker, Clarie the quiet, bedrock of the team. It was truly beautiful to observe them; the love they shared was palpable.  Rex and Clarie were different in fundamental ways--their differences would have broken up lesser marriages. But in them we saw that it was possible to navigate those differences and find a marriage that could last lifetime.

After completing our first "Steps Along the Journey" we signed on for "Steeper Steps" a four night series that focused specifically on anger and forgiveness.  We did a lot of reading--excerpts from classic literature, short essays, and Simon Wiesenthal's book The Sunflower, and then met with the other couples to discuss how what we'd read applied to issues of anger and forgiveness in marriage. Rex always had wise insights to share and he helped us see these difficult issues in fresh new ways.  It was powerful stuff.  When we finished, "Steeper Steps", Babs and I were sold on the principles of Marriage Encounter and became active members of the "ME" Community on Saipan ourselves. We volunteered on the Marriage Encounter weekends, and went through "Steps Along the Journey" and "Steeper Steps" again, this time co-facilitating with Rex and Clarie so that we could become facilitators ourselves.  We then went on to facilitate our own Steps meetings, becoming "Step parents" to other couples.  It was one of the most rewarding and enriching experiences from our time in Saipan.

A Saipan Marriage Encounter community Valentine's Day Banquet, February 2006. You can spot Rex and Clarie in the back row; Clarie is framed by the right side of the balloon heart and Rex is to next to her on the right.

One of the most rewarding aspects was the friendship that we gained in Rex.  He and Clarie became very dear to us. We always enjoyed spending time with them.  Rex was an avid gardener and he'd take us on tours of the his extensive gardens on their property.  He gifted Barbara with plants of his own for her to plant in our yard, as Barbara was eager to get in to gardening.  We'd see them at the interfaith service at sunrise on Easter Sunday and we enjoyed going to hear Rex preach at his church. On Christmas morning, their house was one of our stops for the day, where we'd enjoy a nice chat with Rex and Clarie and leave them with a gift of some home-baked cookies.  There were many special times like that. We came to rely on the Kosacks as wise counselors, almost like parents, that we could rely on whether for sound legal counsel or for advice on some of the biggest decisions of our lives.

Me with our two sons and Rex at lunch at Capriciosa restaurant in Saipan, April 2014, the last time I saw Rex in person. 

After we moved back to the U.S. mainland in 2009, we didn't see as much of Rex as we would have liked.  When we visited Saipan in 2010, we missed connections with Rex and Clarie, though we did have a nice lunch with them in 2014 when we came back to the island again. That was the last time we saw Rex in person.  The last time we spoke with him, was when he and Clarie joined Barbara's 50th birthday party on Zoom in August of 2020.  At that time, we talked about plans to come out and visit them in Port Townsend, Washington where they would soon be moving.  Rex was finally retiring and after an entire professional life in Saipan, they were relocating to the U.S. Mainland for good.  We didn't know then that cancer had already begun it's deadly march on Rex and that the opportunities to get together were far fewer than we realized.

Rex and Clarie in a screen capture from Barbara's 50th birthday party on Zoom.  August 9, 2020.  This was the last time we talked to Rex in person and it was a wonderful little moment as he shared some meaningful memories from our friendship.  We had plans to get together stateside; plans that will now have to be put on hold this side of eternity.

By February of this year, the news reached us that Rex was in the heat of battle with cancer--a nemesis he termed the RAT.  Clarie posted updates on CaringBridge letting us and other friends know how the battle was going.  They had just returned to Saipan near the end of November to close up the law office and ship their personal affects to their new home in Washington when things took a turn for the worse.  

And then on December 16, Rex was gone.

A great man leaves a great hole. And Rex Kosack was a truly great man.  So we feel his loss keenly.  But as much as we mourn his passing, we celebrate his life, a life he truly lived well. Not just because of his prowess as a lawyer, his athletic adventures, his many travels, but most of all because of the many lives he touched. It was his legacy of love, kindness, good humor, wisdom, and friendship that made Rex Kosack's life truly-well lived. 

Rex had one life to live, a love of a lifetime that he shared with Clarie. He had one full heart, and two hands with which he gave us all so much.  And in the end that was more than enough.

He lived it well.

Thanks, Rex, for being a friend, an example, an inspiration.  I love you and I look forward to seeing you on the other side.

Take the burden from my arms
Take the anchors off my lungs
Take me broken and make me one
Break the silence and make it a song

Life is short; I wanna live it well
One life, one story to tell
Life is short; I wanna live it well
And you're the one I'm living for
Awaken all my soul
Every breath that you take is a miracle
Life is short; I wanna live it well, yeah

I wanna sing with all my heart a lifelong song
Even if some notes come out right and some come out wrong
'Cause I can't take none of that through the door
Yeah, I'm living for more than just a funeral
I wanna burn brighter than the dawn

Life is short; I wanna live it well
One life, one story to tell
Life is short; I wanna live it well
And you're the one I'm living for
Awaken all my soul
Every breath that you take is a miracle
Life is short; I wanna live it well, yeah

I got one life and one love
I got one voice, but maybe that's enough
'Cause with one heartbeat and two hands to give
I got one shot and one life to live
One life to live, yeah
And every breath you take is a miracle

Life is short; I wanna live it well
One life, one story to tell (one love)
Life is short; I wanna live it well
And you're the one I'm living for (the one, yeah)
Awaken all my soul
Every breath that you take is a miracle
Life is short; I wanna live it well
And you're the one I'm living for

One life, one love
(One love) One life, one love
(One voice) One voice, yeah
(And that's enough) And that's enough, oh
(One heartbeat, two hands to give)
I got one shot and one life to live
One life to live

                               --Switchfoot "Live It Well"

A Welcome Home: Memories of Mrs. Carlos

  

Mrs. Carlos never sought the spotlight, but the fact is she was the anchor of the Carlos family, so she is appropriately front and center in this photo.  This was taken inside the RV she and her family were traveling on their Grand Tour together. Sabbath, January 4, 2020.

Mrs. Carlos is my best friend, J's, mom but she always felt like a "mom" to me too. Being in her house always felt like home. During my high school visits to the Carlos family in their A-frame home in High Springs, Florida I was treated to her generous hospitality.  The Carlos home always felt warm, safe, and loving. I always felt welcome, thanks to both Dr. and Mrs. Carlos. 

What I remember of Mrs. Carlos is that she laughed often and heartily.  She always made lots of delicious food.  She loved Jesus and was passionate about sharing that love with others--which wasn’t hard for her to do--because His love lived in her and shone out in everything she said and did. I remember her as gentle yet a force to be reckoned with. Mrs. Carlos got things done and she got people on board-- including people who didn’t even know they wanted to be on board, or people who actively didn’t want to be on board; all would be won over by her sweet, but determined persistence. Mrs. Carlos was humble, kind, and had a servant's heart. 

I feel lucky that the Carlos family’s path coincided so well with mine.  In 1995, they moved away from Florida to start a new chapter in Dayton, Ohio.  That might have been the end of any regular contact with them, but the very same year they moved, I met a beautiful girl from none other than Dayton, Ohio.  I met Barbara’s parents for the first time at Thanksgiving in 1995, but I stayed at the Carlos’s home and Mrs. Carlos prepared a sumptuous Thanksgiving feast for us.  Since then I continued to see Mrs. Carlos often whenever Barbara and I were in Dayton.

The last time Mrs. Carlos hosted me in her home was in 2018 when Barbara, the boys and I went up to Andrews University for our Alumni Weekend.  As always we ate well and laughed a lot. One of the highlights was having a paper “snowball” fight in the Carlos living room. 

 The last time I saw Mrs. Carlos was in the first days of 2020, when we once again met up in Dayton, where they had made a stop to catch up with friends, while taking an RV grand tour of the United States.

The next time I see Mrs. Carlos, will be in the Kingdom. I imagine her, with a crown laden with jewels representing the many lives she touched. And though we'll each have a place prepared for us by our Savior, I have no doubt she’ll invite me to her home once again to share good food and good times. I can’t wait for that day!

92: The One Where We Met in St. Louis

 

Anita Hodder as Lucille Pentard, Jason Connell as Lon Smith, and Chandra Maloney as Rose Smith in our senior class production of Meet Me in St. Louis, Thursday, November 14 and Saturday, November 16, 1991

Out of a class of one hundred, only maybe a quarter of the class was involved in the senior class play whether onstage or in backstage capacity.  I was one of the lucky ones who had a part to play; Duffy, essentially the villain of the play.  The production was the stage play (as opposed to the musical) Meet Me in St. Louis and it is one of my favorite memories of our senior year. 

As I recall, parts were cast back around the end of September and rehearsals began, I believe, the day of the Fall Picnic. Rehearsals were held several nights a week and I remember enjoying meeting up with cast and crew to rehearse at the music building.  That auditorium came to feel like a second home, cozy and safe, where we made our way through the play. Some of my good friends were in the play as well--Greg Wedel, Carissa Berard, Jeff O'Connor, Anita Hodder, and Pamela Foard were in the cast, and J Carlos and Geri Haupt were in the crew.  And of course, Chandra Maloney had the starring role as Rose.  I also made new friends with cast members that I hadn't known very well, people like Tonya Simoes, who met through the play.

Matthew Neimeyer who played Fred Gregory and Tonya Simoes who played Tootie Smith, hanging out backstage during dress rehearsals.

There were times when the rehearsals got tiresome or frustrating. Our director Julia Smith, and her student director, our classmate Mae Williams, were tough taskmasters with high standards.  By Senior Survival I was wishing I could just quit the whole thing.  Thankfully, I didn't and in retrospect I have to give credit to our directors.  They brought out the best in us.

Our director, Julia Smith

Our student director Mae Williams applying make-up to Julie Pederson, who played the family maid Katie, while crew-member Rachel Berlus and cast member Sean Forde look on.  Sean had a very short part but it was very memorable! He played the street car conductor who burst on stage to toss the dummy that the younger girls in the Smith family made and placed on the streetcar tracks, causing the streetcar to derail.  Sean's dramatic entrance brought down the house!

The play itself was so much fun.  The story revolves around four headstrong sisters (played by Chandra Maloney, Pamela Foard, April Watson, and Tonya Simoes) who are determined to prevent their father (played by Steve Jeffers) from receiving a promotion that will move their family to New York City right as the world is coming to St. Louis for the 1904 World's Fair. There's drama, romance (one onstage kiss between Chandra and Jeff Fulford, who played her love interest), and even violence (Chandra also "slapped" Jeff in the face and threatened to throw a lamp at him.  And Tonya, who was brilliant as the youngest sister, "bit" Greg Wedel's character, Mr. Dodge on the leg).  My character Duffy was determined to get the promotion promised to the girls' father and conducts his own scheming to make that happen.  I enjoyed the play so much that 18 years later I had my theatre club, REAL Christian Theater stage Meet Me in St. Louis in the spring of 2009.  I really enjoyed revisiting the familiar material and watching my students bring the characters alive that my high school pals had once inhabited (I also took on new role, taking on the part of the father originally played by Steve in our senior year production).

Chandra and Pamela on stage as sisters Rose and Ester. Among their misadventures were swallowing chicken hearts (actually pieces of jello) in the belief that if they shook hands with the boys they loved afterwards they would be destined to marry.  Hilarity ensued as they girls struggled to avoid shaking hands with anyone else in the meantime less they end up destined to marry someone else.

April Watson as Agnes Smith. She and her youngest sister Tootie got up to all kinds of mischief, which ultimately led to the "chipped tooth" you see in this photo

Steve Jeffers as Mr. Smith holds forth, while his daughters look on

Me in character as the scheming  Mr. Duffy. In the background Rachel and Jeff Fulford who played John Shepherd share a hug.

Eventually the hours of rehearsal paid off on opening night, on Thursday, November 14, 1991.  Here's what I wrote in my journal about the performance:

"Well tonight was it. The big performance. And it was awesome. It went great. Much better than we ever expected it would.  It was so much fun!  I can hardly wait until Saturday night [the second performance]. Our senior class production of Meet Me in St. Louis was a smash hit.  I did pretty good on my parts.  I didn't forget any of my lines and the only problems I had was about saying my lines too soon and almost laughing during the funny part of Act II.  Overall, the crowd loved the play. Rumors were going around that people were saying that this was the best class play they've seen in years.  They really seemed to like it.  We got a lot of laughs and applause.  They liked the thing about Chandra "Rose" and Pamela "Ester" not being able to shake anyone's hand because they ate chicken hearts.  The only mess ups, was well, the only big one was when Jason was supposed to join Carissa on stage but couldn't because he was still changing.  Carissa ended up stuck on stage by herself for at least 3 minutes. It was awful but Carissa handled it very well.  She stayed in character and tried to make it look natural.  Finally Jason got his clothes on and the play continued.  All in all an excellent performance."

Funny thing about Jason Connell's delay in the costume change. The issue was that he couldn't find his pants. I guess he finally found some pants but he never did figure out what happened to the pants he was supposed to wear.  Only later, would I realize where those pants were.  I had put them on by accident!  I never told anyone that I was the cause of Jason's late arrival on stage. Sorry about that Jason!

Two days later was our encore performance and it went well also, though not quite as well as the first. I wrote about the second show in my journal, while at a cast party held at Chandra's house. The date was Saturday, November 16, 1991:

"Put on our final performance of "Meet Me in St. Louis".  Tonight wasn't as good but the audience couldn't tell the difference.  The loved it.  Word is this is the best play anyone has ever seen. Sounds good to me.  The only screw-up was when Chandra skipped over a page of lines in Act III.  But Carissa, Steve, and Pamela covered it, Chandra kept her cool,  the skip was (surprisingly) not noticeable and the audience never knew it happened. 

Cast party now going on here at Chandra's house.  All of the above are here [I had listed all the cast and crew in the top margin of that page of my journal].  The food is excellent and good time is being had by all."

You may not have picked it up from my journal entries, but both performances were well-received.

That darn third act was tricky.  Some of the scenes were so similar that it was easy to get them confused (and also made it easy for the audience, who didn't have a script, to not realize we'd missed some dialogue).  But Chandra and company handled the misstep like pros and the show went on.

I think senior year is where I developed my love for acting and the theatre. I would go on to start several traveling drama troupes for kids,  as well act, write, and direct on several projects for both stage and television--most recently, just last year in the short film, Rear Views.  My favorite thing about being involved in a production is the camaraderie that develops among the cast and crew as we work together to bring a story to life.  It's those memories even more than the applause that I find most rewarding.  And it all began with our senior class play.  

Crew member J Carlos and Steve Jeffers on stage during rehearsal

Crew members J & Esther Pierre Louis, and Matthew who I would like to say is studying his lines, but I suspect is simply reading a magazine

Sound tech Tanya Castor and Greg Wedel who played my boss Mr. Dodge

Jeff O'Connor who played Grandpa, the family patriarch with Carissa Berard who played Mrs. Smith

Matthew with Geri Haupt who worked on the crew in set and makeup and Anita. I feel like that is Geri's mom doing Anita's hair.

Chandra and I share the stage. One of the climatic scenes on in the third act was the confrontation between Rose and Duffy.  We were nemeses on stage, best friends in real life.

92: The One We Survived Pt 4: Souvenirs

The last full day of Senior Survival, Tuesday, November 5 is the day that has stuck with me the most out of our entire adventure.  The day is a blur.  I guess we had more classes and more activities but I did not detail these in my journal. What will stick with me forever was that last night.

Things had taken a dramatic turn with some of my classmates and when I recapped that day, the entry was short reflecting the anxiety I was feeling:

"I'm very upset and don't feel much like writing. ***** has lost it again and this time it's worse than ever.  She won't talk to anyone. . .There's nothing I can do but pray.

Nothing much else. Chris C & Joey actually were out by our camp last night. So what. Nothing but ****** seems important right now. Got in and out of trouble with Reams group. Who cares."

Everything that had seemed such a "big deal" before now paled in comparison to much weightier concerns. In my mind nothing less than life and death were at stake.  Wars with other teams seemed silly now. 

The next day Wednesday, November 6, we packed up and headed back to civilization. That evening I concluded my account of Senior Survival with a description of that memorable night.

"Aah. . .a bath, flashing toilets, a soft bed, a house, a car!  I'm glad to be home.  I'm very short on time but  I will write what I can.  About what I was upset about last night.  The situation has remained basically the same. It hasn't gotten worse, thank God. I talked to Rees and J about it last night and they understood.  It was a very spiritual, emotional time for us.  We snuck out of camp around 12:45 and went out to the meeting circle to talk.  We stayed there till like three o clock this morning talking and praying. . . 

This morning we broke camp and packed up our things.  That's really about all we did. I talked to Jenny for a real long time. It was a good talk. . .We got back around 1:20 PM"

I remember being so upset and worried for my friends. I remember sneaking out of camp and making our way down to the meeting circle, with "the stars shining like nails in the sky."  I remember sitting around the dying embers of the fire talking and praying together.  I remember J punching the air as if shadowboxing Evil itself, as if he were trying to "kick the darkness until it bleeds daylight."  In that electric moment I believed, perhaps for the first time, really believed in love, in the power of prayer, in good and evil, in God and the devil.  Everything felt so real, so urgent, so meaningful in those early morning hours.  You can chalk it up to typical adolescent angst, but I felt like the three of us experienced a sort of spiritual enlightenment that night.  It's hard to describe, but I'll never forget how it felt.  

Many years went by and one day I heard a song that took me back to that last night of Senior Survival, when we sat around the glowing goals in the shivering cold and felt like our eyes were opened and we could see things so clearly, little knowing that we were still so young.  We had no idea. Life was just happening.  I brought nothing physical back from my time on Senior Survival. I still have the army cap I wore, but nothing else.  My souvenirs are my mental pictures of everything. My memories of that night as well as so many other memories--listening to Dale, connecting with Jenny, being with Chandra, being carried by Geri, talking to Carissa,  hanging with the Turkeys, bonding with that wonderful bunch of misfits that were the class of 92--all of these are my souvenirs. 

I close my eyes and I can see them all--Carissa, Dale, Jenny (both of them), Pam, Greg, J, Rees, Geri, Chris, Heather, Jeff, Joey, Mark, Steve and so many more.

And of course, Chandra, my friend forever.  I can see her smiling, and she's so alive.

Here's to the twilight
Here's to the memories
These are my souvenirs
My mental pictures of everything
Here's to the late nights
Here's to the firelight
These are my souvenirs
My souvenirs

I close my eyes and go back in time
I can see you're smiling, you're so alive
We were so young, we had no fear
We were so young, we had no idea
That life was just happening
Life was just happening

Here's to your bright eyes
Shining like fireflies
These are my souvenirs
The memory of a lifetime
We were wide-eyed with everything
Everything around us
We were enlightened by everything
Everything

So I close my eyes and go back in time
I can see you smiling, you're so alive
I close my eyes and go back in time
You were just a child then, and so was I
We were so young, we had no fear
We were so young, we had no idea
That nothing lasts forever
Nothing lasts forever
Nothing lasts
Nothing lasts
You and me together
Were always now or never

Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
I close my eyes and go back in time
I can see you smiling, you're so alive
I close my eyes and go back in time
You were wide-eyed, you were wide-eyed
We were so young, we had no fear
We were so young, we had just begun
A song we knew, but we never sang
It burned like fire inside our lungs
And life was just happening (and nothing lasts, nothing lasts forever)
And life was just happening (and nothing lasts, nothing lasts forever)
I wouldn't trade it for anything
My souvenirs.

              --Switchfoot "Souvenirs"

92: The One We Survived Pt 3: Cold

 

The Wild Turkeys and Eddy Rebels at "Wild Training" class, Monday, November 4, 1991.  From Left to Right: Eugene Armstead, Greg Wedel & Geri Haupt huddled together for warmth, Jennifer Everett, Chandra Maloney, Princess Edwards, & Jon Terryn,

I don't think it was really as cold as I remember.  Not technically anyway.  I looked up the high and low recorded temperatures for Monday, November 4, 1991 and the closest I could get was this detailed record for the temperature in Lake Mary, FL. We may not have camped in Lake Mary but we were still in Central Florida and the temps recorded in Lake Mary were likely not much different than what we experienced.  The historical record shows a high of 59 degrees around 3 PM and a low of 53 degrees around 8 that morning.  For context the high today here in Ohio, was five degrees colder than the low on that chilly November morning.

Of course, we were outside the whole time. And the fifties might be fine for playing a rousing game of basketball in a t-shirt and sweats as my students did today, but not so fine for bathing.  And keep in mind we are talking about Floridians here.  Our concept of "cold" is different.

Still, what stands out most vividly for me when I think about Senior Survival was how cold it was. I remember that the staff seemed to relax the rules about physical contact amongst the students as we hugged, snuggled and huddled together for warmth. I claimed Poupa "Jenny" Marashi as my "personal warmer."  It was purely platonic of course and we weren't the only ones cuddled up. 

Me and Jenny

Here's my journal account of our second day of Senior Survival, Monday, November 4, 1991. I'm amused by how I talk is if we'd been out in the woods for weeks rather than around 24 hours:

"A good day.  Days out here have a way of being that. Not great, not awful. Just good.  I guess the inconvenience that makes it bad and the camaraderie that makes it good kind of balance each other out.

Had eggs in the Wok for breakfast and they were good even with the flecks of ashes in them. The dishes as usual were washed with sand and water. The weather was cold, colder than it has been all year.  And it only got worse. 

This morning after a rather wasted worship (Our 'sealed orders" got left outside and got soaked in the rain) the Turkeys and the [Eddy] Rebels had wild training and then the M thru P's [students with last names ending in M, N, O, or P] had the obstacle course.  All marginally fun.   Jenny Marashi served as my warmer. I've been talking to her a lot lately and she is a really sweet person. . .

Chandra Maloney wishing the paparazzo would lay off

Geri Haupt and Chandra Maloney

Some sort of a team-building activity that appears to the M-P's as Jeff O'Conner, Scott Pena, Heather Pominowski, and Hector Morales can be seen in this photo.

During lunch we practiced for the class play. Man, I'm getting really sick of that play. I'd almost like to forget it. . .

In the afternoon we did something on animals with Chuck Town--the Senior Survival man and an awesome guy--and First Aid.  We also did the Nitro Crossing.

Tonight for supper we were invited over by the Eddy Rebels for chow.  It's fortunate that they did because they didn't have water or pots, both of which the Turkey's provided and both of which they couldn't have eaten without.  It was really cool.  Eugene and Jenny Marashi did the cooking and it was great.  Chandra and Geri and Pamela and Jennifer are living in a veritable palace.  It's huge and very well put together.  Chandra and Geri did it all themselves and I was impressed.

The meeting tonight was very good.  Cheeko Cotta spoke and so did Chuck.  Chuck's story was very moving.  ***** got really upset about something and walked off. I ran after her and talked to her and Chuck came and prayed with us.  I think I did the right thing because ***** thanked me and said she was glad I came after her.

Tonight we hung out at camp.  We were pretty sure the Indians were gonna come after us to try and shave Greg's butt but they never showed.  We were ready though.  Dale about went crazy.  He had a machete and was waving it at the bushes daring someone to attack.  Eventually we hid [the machete] from him as we weren't sure what he might do.  The man is profound.  There were a few false alarms but nothing else.  Getting ready to hit the sack and listen to some Beatles and Guns N' Roses [on my Walkman]."

The god of smoke calls forth the plumes

I chose to redact the name of the classmate who took off during the evening worship service, just out of respect for their privacy.  I do recall there was a spiritual intensity to the evening after the levity of the Russian ballerinas earlier on that night. That intensity would only increase in the next 24 hours.

Only teenagers can turn on a dime from faith to foolishness.  The tensions with the Indians continued, with poor Greg Wedel singled out as their target. Throughout the day they taunted him with threats of shaving his butt.  But none of us were going to allow one of our brothers to be manhandled and we were ready to protect him and his "sacred butt" as we called it.  Dale, especially, was out for blood and you never know, some might have been literally shed the way he was swinging that machete around.

I remember very well lying in the dark of our derelict tent listening to the Beatles and Guns N' Roses on my Walkman. It was one of those mix-tapes we used to make--a copy of the Beatles 20 Greatest Hits that I dubbed from Chris Cotta's cassette with GNR's "Paradise City" dropped in right between "Penny Lane" and "All You Need is Love."  I remember feeling that classic adolescent melancholy as I listened to those songs, warmed by the connections with friends I had throughout the day and chilled by the cold darkness that surrounded me and my companions, physically as well as spiritually.

92: The One We Survived Pt 2: Camp

 

It's pretty clear that my record of Senior Survival was written after the fact. I began my journal account of Senior Survival with a dramatic introduction pictured above.  I would have to have already returned from Senior Survival to begin my account this way. Here's the transcription:

Never had the tortures been greater nor the privation worse than on that event known as Senior Survival.  The only showers to be a had were the rains at night and the frigid lake by day.  Flush toilets were unheard of. Plastic sheets were the only building material available and everything from shacks to mansions were made of it.  And these primitive conditions were made doubly worse  by rainfall at night and bitterly cold temperatures during the day. 

Could an entire senior class survive these squalid conditions for four days?  They could and they did.  In fact, they flourished. In the following pages, this memorable event will be described for all posterity.

Next up, was my first official journal entry of Senior Survival.  The date was Sunday, November 3, 1991:

The beginning of our four day ordeal began with foreboding hints of things to come.  The sky dawned gray and overcast.  The forecast was rain followed by dropping temperatures. But these ominous factors meant nothing to those who were taking us out there.  The possibility of war with Reams group was also strong in our minds as we prepared to go that morning.

I got up this morning about 7:10 or so, took the last shower I was to have for the next three days and got dressed.  J and Rees spent the night of course and we hurriedly loaded up our gear as I had SAT's to take at 8 o' clock.  We arrive at the school minutes before 8 and I cruised into the classroom in jungle boots, camo pants, and an Army cap with a knife at my side.  I was ready to go. . .

Me, looking less than enthused in my Vietnam era military garb, most of which I picked up at an army surplus store.  To the left are Jon Terryn in the red cap and Jason Connell in his famous Colts cap.

After the test Greg and I grabbed some lunch at Taco Bell and then hit the road.  The rest of our class had left around 11 and we were shipped out with the other SAT students later.

The drive over was short, about 45 minutes.  We arrived at camp around 1 or so. 2 o'clock Survival Time." 

I have to chuckle at this image of myself all decked out like some sort of soldier of fortune, arriving to take my SATs. I thought I was so cool!  I had also forgotten that they had us on "Survival Time", an hour a head of the rest of the world.  I guess that gave us more daylight?  I'm not sure what the rationale was.  My journal continues with a description of the trials of setting up camp:

The afternoon was spent setting up camp.  The Turkeys chose an excellent spot, far away and excellent for defense, located on a hill surrounded by palmetto bushes with only two hidden entrances. It turned out that our camp, instead of the Indians', whose location was unknown. Sometimes even to us.

Our only material for making a tent was duct tape, rope, and 3 pieces of 10 by 12 plastic.  Most of the tents turned out all right, with P-Roy's and Jason & Dale's probably being the best.  Rees, mine and J's was very uncool.  It was probably the ugliest tent in camp, probably in all Senior Survival.  It was a lopsided, misshapen thing but it served us decently and at least I didn't get too wet.  

Around four we went down to the Orientation and after that was supper.

Tonight we set up a few booby traps, trip wires, and holes etc, just in case.  The program was interesting.  They had Reams team dress up like Indians and do a little song and dance for us.  It was really funny.  After the meeting, J, Rees, Ty Walker, and some others of us went exploring in the woods. It was pretty cool.  When we got back to camp we chilled by the fire and listened to Eugene tell about being lost and Dale be profound.  All in all a fairly good first day. . .It doesn't appear that the natives are too restless tonight.

A sketch of our campsite layout

The shelter J, Rees, and me built, affectionately known as The Dump. I stayed dry because I was in the middle.

Two members were especially key to Wild Turkey camp life: Eugene Armstead was the chef of our camp. As I recall we had to make all our own food, and Eugene had brought a wok, which he used to make all our meals--everything from broccoli to eggs could be cooked up Gene's magical Wok. We called him the Master of the Wok or the WokMan.

Greg Wedel and Our Master of the Wok, Eugene Armstead

The other young man crucial to the Turkeys was our guru, Dale Robertson. We called him "the god of smoke" because campfire smoke used to follow him wherever he went. I may have been the appointed leader of the team, but Dale was the Turkey's soul.   Dale was a wild man, a crazy city kid from New Jersey that kept us in stitches throughout our time in the woods. He would say the most insane things, but somehow they ended up profound. We all adopted his favorite catchphrases such as "That's uncool bro" and "Oh yes!" and "All living things must burn" and of course the ultimate Turkey dis: "Step off!" Long before he entered into service for our country, Dale had a warriors heart and the spirit of a true iconoclast. Even when we weren't quite sure what he was going on about, we loved Dale.

Dale Robertson, the man who put the "Wild" in the Wild Turkeys. Before he was AIRBORNE, he was the god of smoke, the profound one, OH YES!

Despite the bad weather and the constant threat of Indian attacks, camp life was a highlight of Senior Survival.