February 25, 2013

Joe

When I was 17 years old a close friend was killed in a car accident.  His name was Joe.  He was drunk driving late at night and went into oncoming traffic. He and another friend were killed instantly.  A few months after the accident I had an experience.  Some may call it a dream.  I knew it was more.  I knew my friend and I recognized him.  We had an exchange that was real.  I knew the difference.  I would like to share a portion of our visit.

  • Joe was happy.  Like really happy.  There was a noticable difference in his countenance.
  • He said he was going to school and that he loved it.  I quickly questioned him since he had dropped out of high school.  He explained that he really liked this school because there was no homework.
  • He talked of having things wrong.  There were things he did not understand.  He talked about learning and that he had lots to do.

I was 17 years old.  At the time of this visit I did not live at home.  I did not live with my parents.  I myself was a kid in trouble.  Joe reached out.  He made a difference.  Our visit changed me.  Slowly.  His visit rescued me.  There is more to this story.

To be continued…..

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