The Idea... Part 2

From Part I you may have surmised that I am sometimes all over the place from a thoughts perspective. I definitely have a multi-track mind, sometimes thinking through multiple things at once. This of course is probably true of any paramedic who has had significant time in the field. Automated, critical thinking regarding what has happened, is happening now and the probability and scripting of what may happen occurs simultaneously.

Anyway… back to where we left off in Dallas (which is a place I really like by the way… hate it when I am trapped in hotels and airports and can’t explore).

“September 18, 2012 – 8:17pm Central Time – Dallas, TX: Am now on the plane preparing to depart for Evansville. Long day.  I can’t wait to see Annette and the kids. I need a glass of Reggae Red before bed. I am glad that I have tomorrow off even if I have a commitment to be at Deaconess for the EMS Symposium, and a company related dinner to follow for my primary employer.

We will be flying at 37,000 feet this time. A two hour flight time.

I had a great Bison Burger at DFW for dinner. Really good. Don’t see much Bison served in Evansville. Talked with Annette on the phone. She advised that we got tagged by the City for the water meter cap in the front of the house being broken. It’s actually the one to the shut off valve and it is on the City side of the connection. Guess we will have to figure out why they expect us to hire a contractor and fix it. It has been broken since we moved in back in 1998.

As we taxi out for takeoff, a crescent moon hangs to the west near the horizon. With the runway lights, this creates an awesome view. The sky is filled with the bright colored and white lights of many planes around the airport.

This flight is not even half full. Everyone looks tired. No one is talking. This is a stark contrast to my last flight. Few reading lights are on… not even mine as I write, secured in my seat.

I wonder how many of them are actually from Evansville? I recognize no one. Several are asleep before takeoff.

Not me.

I can’t wait for the internal game I will play trying to identify cities at night by their light shape, size and our presumed flight path.

Many in-bound lights, dropping as we taxi for many minutes. Hate to leave Texas again, even though I was only at the airport. My life however is at home and I love my family.

The lights rush by. Takeoff. This thing is fast… Embraer jet.

Dallas glows as the landscape tilts into view as we climb. Most likely I am looking at Arlington and Irving as well. The lights go on into darkness at a distance. How would Twain or Thoreau describe this? No words again. It is simply an amazing view in its urban beauty; the night time city-world aglow.

The lights thin out as we fly into the night. I can no longer tell where Earth meets sky.

It looks as if Little Rock will be the first big town we fly by tonight. I may see Texarkana and Memphis off in the distance.

I love geography, can’t you tell?

I never had Geography as a class in elementary or high school. As with a great many things, I am self-taught.

Maybe that is why maps, compass, orienteering and the modern GPS are important to me in Scouting. I seem to be fascinated by knowing elevation as well. Small towns dot the Earth below. Some are larger but so far as big as Evansville since we left Dallas. I lose track of time when flying.

The flight attendant has brought my coffee. I like it at night too. It does not affect my ability to sleep.

I believe I see Texarkana off to the east (I drew a flight line on the magazine map). I know that the Ozarks will be down there soon, even though I will not be able to see the folds of forested hills at night. Only seeing Little Rock will tell me that they are near.

Finally, Little Rock is a spread out splattered star below. I have only been there once. I believe I was seven. My Dad took me and Mom down there to visit his retired partner from the Evansville Police Department, Jim Crawford. Turns out that my Dad and Jim just wanted to hunt for a criminal on the loose in the Ozarks around Little Rock. I remember getting into Jim’s pickup (first time I had ever been in a truck) and going down old, pine needle covered, mountain, two dirt tire track roads. They were acting on a tip. Of course, Jim was retired and my Dad was way outside his jurisdiction.

We found the guy’s campsite, but the fire was cold. He was long gone.

Jim died a few years later. He had been outside chopping wood. He came in the house, sat down in his recliner and asked his wife for a glass of Iced Tea. When she brought it back from the kitchen… he was dead. Heart attack. This would have been about the time that Johnny and Roy were running around on TV in Squad 51 and rural areas were just learning what a Paramedic was from the entertainment box. No paramedics existed for Jim.

That is all I know about Jim Crawford, or remember about him I suppose. I can’t seem to remember his face.

The running lights flash against the metal on the wing in the darkness. I now see Memphis… I have a story to tell there too from when I was seventeen. I may only decide to tell it in person though as I was surprised my friends and I survived and it involved a high degree of parental disobedience on my part.

I am on my 12^th page of journal entry tonight. What has snapped??

Memphis appears as a fireball. It is more densely lit than Dallas earlier. I can see a bridge from where we fly, maybe 12 to 15 miles away and 35,000 feet up. I can also see the highway that brought me there the first time… 31 years ago. I went with a friend named Chris… cannot remember his last name. he wanted to visit a Catholic college he was thinking about attending… oh well, not tonight. The Mississippi River is the large, dark snake forming the abrupt, curved western border of the city.

Somewhere up there soon is New Madrid. Site of the great earthquake and a constant worry for the Midwest… and Evansville, as it will go off again someday. Praying for a no go on that one.

Took a thought break and read I Corinthians Chapter 16. Verse 9 stood out to me tonight for some reason. “There is a wide-open door for a great work here, although many oppose me.” That is from the NLT version (my small travel bible). I will need to look at it in the ESV or maybe even look at the Greek meanings. Still sounds like the world we live in today. In my mind, all Christians have a (or more than one) personal ministry, whether fledgling, strong or weak. The secular world directly opposes the learning of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Many therefore oppose us.

The words of Martin Luther come to mind from across the ages. A Mighty Fortress Is Our God. Enough said?

No clue where or what we are flying over now. I will have to get my bearings and identify a landmark. Paducah, Kentucky may be the next city on this Pathway.

Yes… it was Paducah. I am getting pretty good at this. It would help a bit if I would bring a compass on these trips. Just for fun.



Birdsville Cemetery



The last time I was in Paducah was during the family meal following the burial of Annette’s Grandmother Barton at Birdsville… a cemetery high on a hill overlooking the Ohio River in rural western Kentucky. Her ashes are buried there.

There is a change in the tone of the engines. Must be starting the slow descent into Evansville. I see Marion, Morganfield and the lighted coal beltline that delivers the black rock to the barges on the Ohio. The coal beltline is lit up like a chopped up snake across the dark ground.

Landing prep has started and I can see Henderson Airport (or Geneva International s they called back in 1987 during my paramedic internship there). I can see Evansville to the northeast across the Ohio. Evansville is home. Ree Ree and Peter. Michael and Luke. My wife.

Kat is of course at OSU, many miles to the northeast in Columbus, Ohio.

Five out of six still makes it home and it is easier knowing that Kat is doing well. After all, she is no longer a child, but an adult. It is the strangest feeling to have been on a wine tasting tour with your daughter. It’s fun, but really brings home the fact that you are old.

Over the west side of town now. I can see the Casino and the Lloyd Expressway. We are going straight in to runway 4. I know this angle. Then there is a sudden change. Now we are going around to land on 22, from exactly the opposite direction.  I have never made an approach into Evansville at this low of an altitude before.

The landing… I would describe as way hot with extreme braking. Looked like we overshot two-thirds of the runway. The landing was less than pleasant.

Good to be back in Indiana. Its cold here compared to Nevada and Texas. I guess this hot, drought marked summer had me off guard. Fall is only a few days away (Friday).

I drive home to the Sola Gratia Haus (for it exists by the grace of God).

Time for a glass of Easley Reggae Red. Goodnight.”

That is it for the sum of my written journal from that day… but that week was far from over. There will definitely be a Part 3 of this topic as the idea of this blog reached its fruition… maybe even a Part 4, before I get on my self-designed, four sided soap box.

You will see me use the Sola’s quite a bit from time to time. In Latin, they are:

Sola Scriptura, Sola Gratia, Sola Fide, Solus Christus and Soli Deo Gloria.

Or…

Scripture Alone, Grace Alone, Faith Alone, Christ Alone and Glory to God Alone.

These tend to say it all for me. They may be centuroes old, but the statement fits my beliefs. I even used these in the designs for our Cub Scout Pack and Boy Scout Troop neckerchiefs at our school.

Troop and Pack 310 Neckerchiefs



Although I have no idea who wrote this single sentence description, it is an excellent incorporation of the meaning of the Solas:

“Scripture alone, being our final authority, teaches us that salvation is by His grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone, for the glory of God alone.”

That sums it up for me… till next time when we shift gears to EMS for awhile.

Namaste