Life-Changing Moments
Events that Chart Life's Course
|
Life-changing moments happen when you least expect them. An automobile accident. The death of a close relative. The birth of a child. A misstep that results in a fall. These often have life-changing consequences that can potentially last for the rest of our lives.
I experienced several of these in my lifetime. After dating more than thirty different young ladies, I met the person who became my life-partner. Being married changed everything about me. The birth of each of my children changed everything about my life and my family’s life. |
But, one event in particular was the catalyst that sent me in a direction I had not intended to go. Please excuse the self-indulgence as I share how it changed me so radically that I took a totally different path than the one I had planned throughout my youth.
In December 1968, my wife and I were living in Chicago. We celebrated our first anniversary and talked about the possibility that I might be sent to Vietnam. “Why else would they send me to Ft. Sheridan, Illinois?” I said. I was a commissioned officer with only a two-year commitment to the army. I knew there was no other reason for assigning an infantry officer to Ft. Sheridan, Illinois, except to keep him busy until the Department of Defense could cut my orders to serve in the Vietnam War. The orders we feared arrived a few weeks later.
In May 1969, I faced my first experience with combat. I heard bullets whizzing over my head. I stopped to see if I could tell where the shooters were. Suddenly a large hand grabbed my shoulder and threw me to the ground with a thud.
I looked over to see a man who looked a whole lot older than me. The face above the master sergeant stripes said, “Sir, I apologize, but you can’t just stand and look around when you hear bullets being fired toward you. You have to duck first, find cover, then try to locate the enemy.”
He was right. I knew what to do from my training at Ft. Benning and Ft. Bragg. I had experienced a momentary dose of reality. The old sergeant then said, “This is real life out here. You can get killed in the brief time it takes to think about ducking for cover. So, never think about it. Just do it immediately.”
I thanked him and reassured him that I was not angry. I said, “I needed the reminder of my training. I’ll never make a mistake like that again.” How prophetic that statement was for me.
In January 1970, I was on a “seek and destroy” mission with two platoons (about sixty men) of South Vietnamese Regional Forces in the Mekong Delta region along the Mang Thit River in northern Vinh Long Province. We arrived at a large canal crossing. A thirty-inch wide pole about fifty feet long was placed from one bank to the other. We needed to cross that canal.
A local merchant boat arrived at our location at about the same time, so the Vietnamese commander that I was attached to as an advisor told me not to waste my time walking back to the command post. He suggested that I ride in the boat with a couple of men who had been wounded by an explosive device.
My mind went back to Ft. Benning where one of my instructors said, “Never, ever, leave the side of your advisee no matter what he says or even orders you to do. Stay beside him. Period!” So, I looked at the young man and said, “No thank you. I think I’ll walk with you.”
The boat departed with the wounded and several guards. The soldiers were in the process of crossing the foot bridge. Then it was my turn. So, I stepped out onto the pole that pretended to be a safe passage to the other side and walked about a third of the way across.
Suddenly, I heard the whizzing of bullets right near my head, one just barely missing my ear. I started to dive down. But, there was no place to dive. The canals were often filled with poisonous bungee sticks just under the surface.
I ran back the way I came as the bullets seemed to be flying toward the other bank. I made it back as the troops I had left. They were attacking the village from where the shooting originated.
We never found the Viet Cong that ambushed us. Then about ten minutes after the shooting stopped, the boat in which I had be told to ride in floated back toward our location with everyone in it dead from multiple gun-shots.
That moment made me wonder just why I wasn’t one of the ones in the boat. It had to be because there was something so important that I was to do that I was spared by some Power to perform it. When I returned to the states the end of March 1970, I entered graduate school and received a master’s degree in speech and drama. After that educational break, I began a career working with youth and college students that lasted thirty-five years.
I had planned on being a performer working in radio, television, film, and the stage. But, that one moment helped me to realize that I needed to dedicate my life to helping others, not entertaining others. I look back and sometimes wonder “what if.” But I push that away. I have accomplished so much by helping others as a teacher in high school and college. There was no “what if.” There was only “I teach!” And I have done that with no regrets.
My question to you is: “What about you? Do you know why you are here? Do you know what it is that you’re supposed to do in life?” Please understand that I was 25 when all this happened. I am now over 70. I needed that shock to find my place. You don’t need to go through the same experiences as I did. But, you do need to get serious with yourself. Assess your talents and desires. Decide. Then stick with it. Oh, and don’t look back.
Oh, yes. I know; you'll make mistakes. I have made plenty (some I even regret). But, I have lived my life the best way I knew how. And with that understanding and knowledge I am content. I am at peace. And I have joy. Love the life you’ve chosen with no regrets, and the rest of your life will be a joy.
In December 1968, my wife and I were living in Chicago. We celebrated our first anniversary and talked about the possibility that I might be sent to Vietnam. “Why else would they send me to Ft. Sheridan, Illinois?” I said. I was a commissioned officer with only a two-year commitment to the army. I knew there was no other reason for assigning an infantry officer to Ft. Sheridan, Illinois, except to keep him busy until the Department of Defense could cut my orders to serve in the Vietnam War. The orders we feared arrived a few weeks later.
In May 1969, I faced my first experience with combat. I heard bullets whizzing over my head. I stopped to see if I could tell where the shooters were. Suddenly a large hand grabbed my shoulder and threw me to the ground with a thud.
I looked over to see a man who looked a whole lot older than me. The face above the master sergeant stripes said, “Sir, I apologize, but you can’t just stand and look around when you hear bullets being fired toward you. You have to duck first, find cover, then try to locate the enemy.”
He was right. I knew what to do from my training at Ft. Benning and Ft. Bragg. I had experienced a momentary dose of reality. The old sergeant then said, “This is real life out here. You can get killed in the brief time it takes to think about ducking for cover. So, never think about it. Just do it immediately.”
I thanked him and reassured him that I was not angry. I said, “I needed the reminder of my training. I’ll never make a mistake like that again.” How prophetic that statement was for me.
In January 1970, I was on a “seek and destroy” mission with two platoons (about sixty men) of South Vietnamese Regional Forces in the Mekong Delta region along the Mang Thit River in northern Vinh Long Province. We arrived at a large canal crossing. A thirty-inch wide pole about fifty feet long was placed from one bank to the other. We needed to cross that canal.
A local merchant boat arrived at our location at about the same time, so the Vietnamese commander that I was attached to as an advisor told me not to waste my time walking back to the command post. He suggested that I ride in the boat with a couple of men who had been wounded by an explosive device.
My mind went back to Ft. Benning where one of my instructors said, “Never, ever, leave the side of your advisee no matter what he says or even orders you to do. Stay beside him. Period!” So, I looked at the young man and said, “No thank you. I think I’ll walk with you.”
The boat departed with the wounded and several guards. The soldiers were in the process of crossing the foot bridge. Then it was my turn. So, I stepped out onto the pole that pretended to be a safe passage to the other side and walked about a third of the way across.
Suddenly, I heard the whizzing of bullets right near my head, one just barely missing my ear. I started to dive down. But, there was no place to dive. The canals were often filled with poisonous bungee sticks just under the surface.
I ran back the way I came as the bullets seemed to be flying toward the other bank. I made it back as the troops I had left. They were attacking the village from where the shooting originated.
We never found the Viet Cong that ambushed us. Then about ten minutes after the shooting stopped, the boat in which I had be told to ride in floated back toward our location with everyone in it dead from multiple gun-shots.
That moment made me wonder just why I wasn’t one of the ones in the boat. It had to be because there was something so important that I was to do that I was spared by some Power to perform it. When I returned to the states the end of March 1970, I entered graduate school and received a master’s degree in speech and drama. After that educational break, I began a career working with youth and college students that lasted thirty-five years.
I had planned on being a performer working in radio, television, film, and the stage. But, that one moment helped me to realize that I needed to dedicate my life to helping others, not entertaining others. I look back and sometimes wonder “what if.” But I push that away. I have accomplished so much by helping others as a teacher in high school and college. There was no “what if.” There was only “I teach!” And I have done that with no regrets.
My question to you is: “What about you? Do you know why you are here? Do you know what it is that you’re supposed to do in life?” Please understand that I was 25 when all this happened. I am now over 70. I needed that shock to find my place. You don’t need to go through the same experiences as I did. But, you do need to get serious with yourself. Assess your talents and desires. Decide. Then stick with it. Oh, and don’t look back.
Oh, yes. I know; you'll make mistakes. I have made plenty (some I even regret). But, I have lived my life the best way I knew how. And with that understanding and knowledge I am content. I am at peace. And I have joy. Love the life you’ve chosen with no regrets, and the rest of your life will be a joy.
|
Download this article:
|
| ||