A Flawed Legacy - 21

We stopped in Oil City, OK, for breakfast, a place I will never forget.  I got off the bus, walked through the front door of the restaurant and was greeted by the waitress (there was only one) who exclaimed, "My, you look bright and chipper this morning" to which I replied, "I think I have just been born again'" to which she replied, "Well, praise the Lord.  Have a seat."  So, I did.  "What are we having for break-fast?" she asked.  Recalling that I only had $10 to my name at that moment, "I'll just have a cup of coffee."  "No way," she responded, "That's no meal for a man who has just been 'born again' - it's my treat,  Get whatever you want."  She seemed to realize I was embarrassed, so she added, "Never mind, you're my new brother and I'll get you what I know you will enjoy" and she was gone.

What a meal I had and what a hug I received as we were leaving.  I was embarrassed by the fact I wanted  to  leave a tip, but I only had the 50+ cents I had in coins in my pocket, but I also was excited by her confirmation that God had apparently reached my heart, by revealing hers.

After a brief stop in Oklahoma for an check on the engine of the bus, we would be late in arriving in Tulsa.  At this point, I was beginning to get nervous about meeting this "great man" of God, but there was no need to be concerned.  My call to the college revealed that this was graduation day, that he would be speaking and afterwards, he and his wife were leaving for three weeks on vacation.  What was I to do, how could I explain my reason for being in Tulsa, a long ways away from San Diego?

We had passed a "labor" office on our way into town, so I had not changed clothes.  I was still wearing jeans and a tee shirt, ready for work I reasoned, so I headed that way.  On my way, I noted an older hotel with a sign, "$10/night".  At least, I thought, I have a place to sleep.  The office was not unlike the offices I had run in California.  "Sign in, take a seat.  If you're lucky, you might get some work."  I took a look at my watch.  It was 10:30 in the morning and there were three other guys waiting.  I sat down.

Just before Two in the afternoon, the phone finally rang.  "Any of you guys good at counting?" the dispatcher asked and my hand flew up.  "Grab your bag and head for the truck," he yelled as I headed that way, "If you're not back here by 6PM, you'll have to wait to get paid in the morning."  That sounded like good news to me.

The job was only a few blocks away and John, my boss-to-be was waiting as I climbed out of the truck and asked, "Are you sure you can count?" he asked and I replied, "I'm a college graduate," to which he replied, "I didn't ask you that.  I asked if you could count."  "Yes, sir!"

It was a parts supplier for several manufacturers and you not only had to count the parts, you had to make sure the right parts were in the right bins.  I didn't realize it, but as I was finished with one row, I was sent to another on the opposite side of the warehouse.  What I did nor realize was that John was double-checking my work on the previous row.  After three rows, he called me into his office and explained, we have to finish this job by Friday afternoon.  "Can you work ever day?"  What he was asking, "Can I count on you to be here every day."  "Yes, sir!"

When they were ready to close, John noticed the bag I was carrying.  "New to town?" he asked, "Yes, sir!"   He explained that he knew the owner of the hotel I had seen, so he told me he would give me a ride to it, went inside with me and told the clerk, "Put Mr. MacRae's bill on my tab and I'll settle with you on Friday night."  "Yes, sir!" as he handed me the key to my room.   "Oh my," I thought, I can have something to eat, tonight."

John was there when I came out of my room and said, "Let's have breakfast." and we were on our way. For the next four days, that was the routine.  I still had the $10 bill as he had also paid for my breakfast and ran a tab for my evening meals.  He brought me lunch every day as he poured out his life to me as though I was interested, which I was, and he never asked me questions about my life.  We were finished with the inventory by Thursday evening and he brought me back on Friday to make some changes he had been wanting to make, but needed help in getting it down.  He signed my ticket by 3PM on Friday so I would be sure to get paid and gave me his card.  "If you ever need a job in Tulsa, see me.  I always need some sort of help."  When I got to the Labor office, I discovered I had a check waiting for me, 40 hours of work at $2.50/hour more than I expected and the dispatched had another job waiting for me on Monday morning.  When I got to the motel, I discovered my bill had been paid and a room had been reserved for me at the local YMCA.

I walked away, crying.  I had never ever been treated so well and I could do nothing but praise the God I had been reading about  - faithfully, every evening.

I was about to have the shock of my life.  As I was walking toward the YMCA, I happened to see a cocktail lounge on the same side of the street.  I began to reason, "Since I had worked hard all week, I had "earned" the right to have a beer" - obviously forgetting that I had seldom been able to stop with "just one" beer.  I took hold of the door handle and it appeared to be locked.  I tried again and again as I could hear laughter from inside.  The windows had been painted so you could not see inside.  I began to reason that it must be a private party.  I started to walk away when two couples approached and asked me if it was open.  "I don't really know.  You will have to try it for yourself," and walked on.  To my amazement, they walked right in.  I began to wonder and it was then that I recalled my promise on that bus.  My life was going to change.  Obviously, it appeared that I needed help.

A Flawed Legacy - 19

San Diego on any day of the year is a good day.  We were fortunate to have found a nice duplex apartment that was close to the elementary school we needed for our children and across the street from a shopping center. It was a great new start and it should have worked well for us.  Unfortunately, it did not.

My problem was that I had not yet learned how to deal with rejection and working for a company that promised to "Write your Congressman" on behalf of the companies I was able to convince that they needed to participate, meant that I was being rejected on 60 to 70 per cent of my "unannounced" calls. More often that not, the owner was not available.  I should have anticipated this, but I did not.

Instead, I turned to what I had begun to believe was my old "dependable" as far as jobs were concerned.  I dropped by an employment agency looking for a "better" job and would up with another promise of the future and more drudgery.  I had some breaks.  The young Indian emigrant with more clerical skills than I had ever seen was easy to place in an "employer paid fee" job.  That impressed her father who came to the office with the resumes of the other children I had yet to meet and told me not to worry about fees; he would pay the fees for any of the others I placed.  That became my goal, but I did not share my thoughts with the agency manager and soon she became critical of my efforts.

Then came the bomb shell.  The mail box of the people in the adjoining unit had been pilfered and it did not take long for the authorities to visit Janice.  From what I would soon hear from the investigators who talked with me, she was blaming me for my financial failures.  To be honest, I almost lost it.  I came close to beating on her after she hid in our bedroom behind a locked door.  I kicked it in and was ready to beat on her, when I realized my promise to her and to myself.  One more incident like we had experienced earlier and I was through with the marriage.  The next morning I was talking with a lawyer about the possibilities of a divorce.  I would learn that we could not afford one.

So, I let the inevitable happen.  She was arrested, went to court - alone, and eventually, she was found guilty.  I never visited her in jail and was not interested in visiting her in the prison she was sent to for an evaluation.  Instead, I went to the appropriate offices in the State to see what assistance I could get to stabilize our family situation.  It would take time, I was told.

I called an old friend we had known in a Los Angeles church we had attended, shared my sad story and asked him if he could arrange to find me help for my problems.  By this time, I had to admit there had to be something wrong with me to have worked so very hard with no significant results and now, to find our family in disarray and my wife facing ten years in prison.  He came to San Diego, picked me up and we met with two others who were supposed to understand family crises.  We talked for over three hours and I realized, I was trying to convince them of my realities and they were fixated on what they had read about Christian family dynamics.  We were getting nowhere, but something my friend had said began to resonate with me.  My problem were more spiritual than any of us cared to admit.

With that I called a man I had known briefly, but who had made a lot of sense to me, so I called his office in Tulsa, OK.  Unable to reach him directly, his secretary suggested I come to Tulsa so that it would be easier to have him understand my predicament.  I thought that was a good idea.  I could not think of anyone in California who would be interested in listening to me.

I went back to the people I had talked with at the State offices and asked about the possibilities of placing the children in temporary (90 days) "Foster care" homes.  I assumed that before the 90 days had elapsed, Janice would be out of her temporary hold in prison, I would have learned more about my own sense of reality and we could establish a plan to our children.  To this day, I thought it was a good idea, it had been endorsed by the child welfare people.  Things would work out for the best of everyone.