JOURNEYS with Mr. Lackey

    A composed, erect gentleman wheels himself around the halls of Apple Valley Christian Care Center (AVCCC).  This is Mr. Lackey, a resident at AVCCC for a little over a year. His manner is courteous, rather genteel, his conversation is measured and thoughtful.

    North Carolina is his state of birth and where he spent his early years, growing up in a semi-rural environment.  With a quiet chuckle he recalls how he, with his older brother and his friends, built a “tree cabin”, or tree house in a nearby forest. Long hours were spent building the tree-cabin.  This was done under the supervision of a friend whose father was a contractor-builder, with the boys believing that the symbiotic relationship of father/son magically included the transference of building knowledge. There was no lack of creativity and achievement, for their tree-cabin was a two-story tree-cabin, with swings. To accommodate the high-flying seep and inverted arc of the swing, the boys cleared the branches high on the tree from the path of the swing.  Of course, the swing was hitched to the highest branch available. One day, for some unknown reason, Mr. Lackey’s older brother fell out of the swing at the height of the arc, and broke his wrist. He says the tree-cabin construction seemed to have lost it’s appeal at that point, and they moved on to other interests. There were other world-shaking events happening, as the approach of World War ll replaced the interests and efforts of citizens, old and young.

    Mr. Lackey was seventeen years old at the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor. He recalls that a neighbor’s son was stationed at Pearl Harbor at the time of the attack, and that they were notified their son was killed during the attack, and how the citizens of the small town gathered around the parents, and grieved with them. Then about a week later, the parents were notified by the War Department that there had been a mistake, and their son was alive and well. Once again the citizens gathered around their neighbors, this time rejoicing with them at the good news.

    He was drafted into the Army, completed basic training, was assigned to the Signal Corps, and sailed on a troop ship to Bremerhaven, Germany. When Frankfurt was secured by the Allies, he was stationed with Headquarters Division, serving under General Lucius Clay, who would later become the Military Governor of West Germany. Mr. Lackey had gained “Top Secret” clearance, and was responsible for carrying classified and coded documents. Two Signal Corpsmen traveled together on these assignments which took them to and from Headquarters Division in Frankfurt into various parts of Europe and North Africa. As portrayed in the movies, a courier had the pouch of documents sealed , strapped or cuffed to his wrist. Only he knew the combination to the lock, and what the code word the recipient of the documents must use before the documents would be released to him. He relates that on one occasion, after delivering the documents, and returning to Bremerhaven, he missed the Frankfurt train, arriving in time to see it leave the station. He was very distressed and was pacing up and down the station platform, trying to figure out how he would manage to get to Frankfurt. A German man dressed in civilian clothes, noting his distress, offered to drive him to Hamburg, (where he could catch up with the train and board it there) He accepted the invitation, and much to his surprise, found himself being driven across northern Germany, all night, in a German Army vehicle.  The driver would not divulge his name, nor did he learn how the driver had access to the Army vehicle.  The German would not accept any payment for the wild ride (Mr. Lackey described the ride as “riding so fast I felt like I was swallowing my heart”).

    Shortly after the wild ride across Germany, Mr. Lackey was reassigned to the American Graves Registration Command (AGRC) near Stuttgart, Germany.  He stated that not all of the ”shooting was over”, and there were still some enemy snipers active from time to time.  It was in this command that he experienced the most gut-wrenching, horrifying, nightmarish experiences any soldier could have. He shared these memories, one halting word at a time, his eyes filled with tears, and in a voice trembling with emotion and pain, there was no doubt that the mental pictures were still so very clear and so very haunting. It was the duty of this command to search and retrieve, for identification, the bodies of American soldiers who had been killed in the woods, ditches, fields, and forests. Soldiers, who had not been located in the immediate aftermath of battle, whose bodies and body pieces lay half-buried in mud or hidden by brush, and were unrecognizable and deformed by hell-driven ammunition, in a hellish war. The bodies, body parts and any dogtags or other personal effects were taken back to military morgues for registration and identification so that families could be notified and military records completed.

With reverence and head bowed, Mr. Lackey paid homage to the spirits of those soldiers who fought so valiantly, and died, a very long way from their homes. As with all veterans of war, the deep respect and honor for the total sacrifice made by these loyal Americans and their families, is felt as intensely today by Mr.  Lackey, as it was over sixty years ago.

Prepared by Marie Reeves

11/2009

JOURNEYS with George Bates

    Mr. Bates greets one with startling blue eyes and a crisp “hello”. This, from a man who is a big rig trucker, and who has travelled extensively throughout the United States. Imagine the wisdom and self-determination it takes to adjust to life in a skilled nursing facility. Not in his wildest imagination would he have given credence to this turn of events for his life. He has a very lucid way of expressing himself, and on his bed and table, there are several books, with markers, suggesting that he is an avid reader, which he confirmed.

   George, in his eighties, has never had an easy life, but he doesn’t complain. “How could I?” he asks? Then he revealed his philosophy: “Life deals you a hand, and you live with it. You try not to hurt another person. You do the best you can with what you have, and go for it.”

   As a youngster, at age five, George and his brother were removed from the family home by a social worker. It seems that both of his parents were prone to alcohol abuse and were somewhat neglectful of their children. They were taken to the Lund School, a boarding school run by the State of Utah.  George  lived there, off and on, through his fifteenth birthday. He went to school (reluctantly), worked hard doing physical labor in maintenance, truck farming and other field work. He was fed, provided with the minimum of clothes and a safe place to

sleep. There was little time for staff to give personal nurturing to the young children. He says he must have tried to run away at least fifteen times to go home to his parents, but was always picked up by school personnel. He would ask “When can I go home?” That question was not addressed or recognized, and George would hope against hope that someday his mother and father would come for him.

    At school, there was no time for acting like a little kid, and no time to learn how to play. Finally at age sixteen, he left for the last time and enlisted in the Air Force, insisting that he was eighteen and was accepted, as World War II was in full swing. He completed basic training at Fort Bragg, went  to Fort Benning to an airborne unit and paratrooper training. He served with the 101^st , which was stationed to serve in Europe. He made five jumps, and was wounded. He made a full recovery, and continued to serve until 1947 when he was discharged.

    After the war he was at a loss to know what to do, where to go. He hitchhiked from coast to coast, searching, looking, wanting to do something good with his life. One night near Grants, New Mexico, on the side of Highway 66, he was picked up by a driver of a big rig. During that ride he felt excitement grip him when the driver allowed him to drive the large, powerful piece of machinery. As he experienced the harnessing of horsepower to move along on the highway, he felt an inner satisfaction he hadn’t known before. A plan for his life was building in his mind, something he felt was worthwhile. He describes it this way. “It would give me an anchor, albeit a moving one. There was a purpose for my life.”  That is exactly what he did, he was off to Truck Driving School, and from there, he subsequently drove over one million accident-free miles, one of a few honored truck drivers to do that, receiving recognition and award for that meritorious accomplishment.

    What were some of the important rules along the way that he applied to other situations? His answer was succinct and simple. When one is a trucker, one always has a log-book; a bill of lading; the destination and time of arrival; what to eat and what cargo one is carrying.  Then he added, “…and you should always know that the load on your truck belongs to someone else. They depend upon your honesty and integrity  to get to the destination on time and safely.”  How does he use these skills in his present situation? He makes notations of appointments, schedules and maintains a working knowledge of what is going on around him. He doesn’t have the mobility or freedom to get about by himself, so he has adapted to limitations that cause him great frustration, for he has had to learn to depend upon assistance. He made the observation that anyone who has experienced disability can understand…”it bothers me so much to have to depend upon so many other people.” He has good memories of his independence and coursing through the highways, by-ways and back roads of the United States.

    On the wall next to his bed is a picture of George and a very large and magnificent, handsome, truck. At a glance, the joy in his eyes tells its own story. In the seventies, he purchased a PETERBILT truck. It was his delight and pure pleasure, and as King of the Road. It had all the bells and whistles, lights and chrome, enormous tires and a sweetly tuned powerful engine that represented several hundred horses, which he guided down the roads and through the towns and cities. It was his…he was so happy with it, something he did that helped others, and it cost a “pretty penny, $132,000, with a monthly payment of $2300.  I was never late with one payment, and paid it off in three years.” The pleasure and satisfaction in his eyes and face  as he shared his story from his heart,  was moving and genuine. How many stranded people did he stop to help… he has no idea, it’s not important to him…he did what he could to make life a little better for others, the best way that he knew. As he reminisced, there were times when he had a faraway look in his eyes, a smile played around his lips…perhaps one could say that pleasant remembrances bring serenity and fulfillment to a man for having lived his life well.

Prepared by Marie Reeves

04/2010

JOURNEYS with Alfred Ward

    Relaxing in his room, Alfred Ward is a study in contrasts. He is fifty-ish, friendly, welcoming and perfectly at home surrounded by many elderly individuals. When he came to Apple Valley Christian Care Center (AVCCC), the staff wondered if he would be a survivor. He was admitted from an emergency room, reeling from the incapacitating and frightening effects of alcohol abuse interacting with prescription drugs. Admittedly this had been complicated by poor self care and personal problems. Now, some months later, he is happily planning his discharge and departure to his own apartment, and a life of self support with renewed contributions to society.

    Alfred grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, with four sisters and two brothers, he was a middle child. The family was part of a community of various cultures:  Italian, Irish, Viking and Black. Though each group had their own interests and culture, it was a homogenous community. He shared a bit of his heritage, which involves his grandfather, a slave on the Bill Chase Plantation in North Carolina. When given the opportunity, his grandfather moved to the Cleveland area, where many members of the extended family still reside. Alfred’s parents were very hardworking . He recalls that his dad, Sam, would never say exactly what he did, because the company for whom he worked, required its employees to sign confidentiality agreements to not divulge company information. That company had a contract with the Atomic Energy Commission. He believes that his dad came in contact with radiation, in spite of the rather primitive efforts at containment and decontamination in place during the 1950’s. His father died of cancer at age fifty. His mother, Bernice, in addition to her family responsibilities, was employed by the judicial system in Cleveland. She was given responsibilities in the judicial offices, was trusted to handle confidential materials, directing the processing of papers and any distribution or disposal.

    At age twelve, Alfred had his first paying job, that of cleaning mortar off of used brick, he doesn’t recall how much he received for each brick, but agreed that in today’s market it would be considered “labor intensive”, and likely be worth several dollars per brick as opposed to the couple of pennies per brick. Summer excursions to an amusement park, rented by his dad’s employer made an impression upon the growing young boy, but more treasured are the memories of the family picnics with his large extended family of some eighty to one hundred people (aunts, uncles, cousins ). At these outings, they played sports, swam, hiked and ate the side dishes prepared by the women, and relishing the ribs, chicken and hot dogs always  barbequed  by the men. His was a happy childhood, including the teenage years. One could say this was preparation for a confident launch into adulthood. With a slow grin, he admits that his Aunt Margie, a registered nurse, had a “tendency” to spoil him, and that was just fine with him. For example, when he wanted to learn to play the drums, she got him the drums and the lessons; for graduation from high school she presented him with a new car.

    Alfred was a good student and an avid reader, noting that there were times in his growing up years that he read by flashlight “under cover” in bed. He seems to have seized opportunities to integrate ideas and concepts within whatever setting. When a senior high school student, he took a job as a grill cook, working diligently at improving his skills and subsequently became the grill chef in Stouffer’s, a leading and popular restaurant in Cleveland.

    Since education was treasured by the family, it was no surprise he made the decision to attend the University of Toledo, graduating with a degree in technology and engineering. First job out of college was in the general field of oceanography, drawing marine systems having to do with sonar cabling technology for the Navy. Later, he designed bent strain relief systems for use with off-shore drilling, the oil rigs, the flow of electrical power components to tankers or to shore. Other designs were used in the construction of the Airbus and Boeing aircraft. His employers recognized the effortless intelligence and creativity of Alfred, and his ability to move comfortably in unusual environments and in other countries, and assigned him the job of traveling to many nations. This was particularly true in  instances  where their  Army, Navy, Air Force, or private business partners required up-dating and on-the-job-training, to maintain their cutting edge leadership or commercial capabilities.  He has had some unusual experiences. On one occasion, as he was being escorted to a dinner, he happened to look up at the roofs of the buildings along the street. He was somewhat surprised to see men in military gear, with rifles, standing watchful guard over his group’s progress the few steps to the hotel As he reflected upon it later, it occurred to him that the reason for doing this was because that nation had all of its top Air Force Generals gathered in that hotel at one time, under one roof, and then he understood the need for the intense security. His travels took him to Italy, Greece, Europe, Taiwan and China. Based upon his description of the tasks he carried out, he was a friendly and trusted unofficial American ambassador to many foreign nations, which he performed willingly, and with honesty and integrity.

   When asked what was his greatest challenge related to this hospitalization, he said, “Hearing the doctor say I would never walk again, or leave the hospital. That got my attention. I made up my mind that I WOULD walk again; I WOULD leave the hospital; I WOULD be able to take care of myself.”  He credits his remarkable comeback to the help of God; to his family and friends that gave him strong, prayerful support; and to a committed, supportive AVCCC staff.

Prepared by Marie Reeves

04/2009

JOURNEYS with Lois Redding

    The very gracious, kind and gentle voice of Lois Redding, a resident of Apple Valley Christian Care Center (AVCCC), relates the story of her great-grandfather migrating to Utah with Joseph Smith and his beleaguered band of Mormons. For them, life was tenuous and difficult. After they settled, the group worked together, sharing the fruit of their labor, the drop dead, dry bones of the desert took it’s toll, not every baby lived, some children and some adults were hungry when they went to bed, but they persevered. They prayed, they worked dawn to sundown, they struggled and endured the hardships. That spirit is the essence of Lois and her life. Her family lived in Kanosh, which is named for Chief Kanosh, of the Pahvent Indians, members of the Ute Tribe. Historically, Chief Kanosh chose to negotiate with the settlers for the use of the land, rather than resort to conflict, obtaining assurances that the tribe would receive help and instruction in growing crops. Into that setting, two generations later, came little Lois, born in her grandmother’s house in Fillmore (Millard County) Utah.

    Lois’ father was a cattleman rancher, who had many other talents as well, e.g. drilled deep wells  that produced excellent water; repaired and rebuilt scarce farm equipment; sought out by other farmers/ranchers as a bee-keeper; involved in  church work and local mission work. The family provided support to the Indians, as some members of the tribe experienced difficulty changing from a hunting and gathering culture into one of ranching and farming.  Spiritual education played a role in the activities of the community. The Golden Rule was in effect, and demonstrated by the work and assistance to others. In an almost casual way, little Lois learned that one helps ones neighbors when they are in need. She recounts her absolute delight one Christmas when she received a little red wagon as a gift. Her Dad’s instructions to Lois were “Go and give those other children who didn’t get a present like, that a ride first, then you can play with it.” She did just that, and remembers how she felt joy that she had made it possible for some other children to share her happiness.

    Her recollections include her mother doing the weekly and daily food preparation and willingly sharing t his food with the Indians.  When they needed help, the Indians would come to the door of their cabin, and with minimal conversation present themselves. Whatever food her mother had prepared, she gave them. The Indians particularly liked freshly baked bread, and frequently stopped on those days!  Lois would peek from behind her mother’s apron, or “hide” with her brothers and sisters, behind the big casts iron cook stove. The active imagination of the children had them fearing for the loss of their scalps!

    Planting a garden and reaping the harvest was one of the things that Lois learned early in life. She and her sisters helped with the canning, preserving, pickling and drying of the food for use during the cold winters. The boys job was assisting with the ranching/farming activities. As a bee-keeper, her father was sought after for many reasons.  Crops requiring pollination did better when bees were around, and honey was used extensively as a sweetener, preservative, and was considered to have medicinal qualities. He had learned from his father the art of “hiving” a swarm of bees. Dressed for the part , armed with a “smoker”, he and his sons kept the bee community environment clean and producing. It was a family affair to “render” (process) the honey, packaging it in containers, and selling it . It was one more way to supplement their sparse income.

    After she completed high school, Lois moved for a short time to Victorville, living with one of her sisters. When Pearl Harbor was attacked, she remembers there were  “blackouts” in Victorville. She moved back to Salt Lake City to work at a factory  (IT McClella Company), built to help in the war effort. Her job was to inspect light bulbs used on submarines, by which bombs and depth charges were detected. It was during the war years that she met her husband on October 29, 1943, at the local Walgreen’s Drug Store. When he returned from military duty, they were married in April of 1944.

    When the war was over , her husband worked for Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad, and was also busy establishing himself as a successful businessman in Barstow, California. Lois was very active in the local Mormon Church, serving in the Relief Society that provided assistance to members in need as far away as Newberry Springs and Victorville, California. She helped to organize and teach home-making skills and methods; worked together with others to make clothes and blankets for distribution; managed, requested and dispersed supplies from the Storehouse. Lois was so immersed in good-will and compassion, that it seemed to rub off on those who received the services. Many who were served and received assistance were able to repay and/or give back by helping in other ways, at other times,  with other people.

The Redding’s adopted two children. The children brought great joy and happiness to the family and their friends. Lois loved to sew and was a precise and creative seamstress. For the musical productions in which the children were involved, Lois created their stage attire, and often assisted with the production in other ways. Tragedy struck the family when their musically gifted young adult son died in an auto accident. That loss was deeply mourned by the entire Mormon community. Lois is now a widow, and is surrounded by family and friends. Church members visit, honoring her for her humility and for the quiet contributions she has made in the lives of many. She has been a member of AVCCC”s Resident Council, during which she  served as an advocate for residents, and additionally, is a friend to many residents who have limited mobility.

Prepared by Marie Reeves

12/2009