November 17, 2008
Heinz 57
I once read a quote that referred to misfortune as being an uninvited guest that came to the table ate all the fruit and meat leaving only pits and bones.
A lot as transpired since the last time I blogged and I felt it necessary to step away from the situation and just focus on school and wrestling. But now, it at 4:50 am, having just finished the final draft for my History 101 class, it’s probably time to get back into the flow of things which means updating everyone what has happened on campus from my perception.
Classes-
Classes are going well. I decided to stop hand writing my notes and just type them. It keeps me from drawing pictures. And ironically enough, I save time and can take better notes! I register for classes on Tuesday and I hope to take five classes. 1) Public Speaking 101, 2) Latin 102, 3) Religion 104 – Religion of China and Japan, 4) Religion 172, a continuation of 171, and 5) History 200 – History of Christianity.
Professor Himsel was hesitant and I were both hesitant. But my Dad reminded me when I was in high school that I was the most efficient and productive when I was in wrestling season, working 40-hour weeks at Zumiez, and a full time student. Hoping that putting more on my plate will pull me up a bit. Weird theory I know, but it’s pretty dead on for me.
Dump Truck T-Shirts-
I sold my first one, and they are indeed selling. If you would like one get a hold of me via email, and I will make sure you get one. They are $12 and I have all sizes. I will try and get some pictures up soon. Lol, I’m so used to not have a camera and putting up pictures that I’m beginning to feel bad.
Wrestling-
So far I have had ringworm twice, had a severe left LCL strain in my right knee, which forced me out for a week, a black eye, and cauliflower ear. As soon as I deal with one, I’m out with something else. It is the most frustrated I have ever been. To see people out on the mat practicing, working hard to get a Varsity spot, to represent Wabash College sucks. I hate being out. Right now, I have cellulites in my right knee, so once again I’m out. However, I have no intention of giving up. That’s not what I’m about. Giving up is something I have never done nor to I plan to start now.
Delta Tau Delta-
We were punched in the face again and it was not a soft blow. Wabash College revoked their lease on our house, forced everyone over 21 to move out to campus owned facilities or off campus housing, our cook was fired, and a brotherhood was left shaking their head. Notice I said shaking their head. The pledges and brothers of Delta Tau Delta are still a brotherhood. Our house is only a physical landmark of our brotherhood, not the bonds that hold us together. In fact, at the bell game, we without a doubt had the most spirit. The parents had a tailgate for us that was of the gentleman culture. Below is the email sent out by President White to the Student Body:
Dear Students,
This morning, Dean Mike Raters, Associate Dean of Students Rick
Warner, and I informed the students living in the Delta Tau Delta
fraternity that the College has decided to withdraw its recognition of
the Beta Psi chapter and terminate the lease of the property at 603
West Wabash Avenue.
This decision was reached after considerable investigation and
conversation. From recruitment to the beginning of pledgeship and
through traditions and ritual, we have discovered at Delta Tau Delta a
culture and practice of ungentlemanly behavior and irresponsible
citizenship, which are inconsistent with Wabash’s Gentleman’s Rule,
mission, and core values.
We will use the property at 603 West Wabash Avenue as a College
residence hall effective immediately.
Each current resident of the facility who is under the age of 21 may
continue to reside in the residence hall, move into alternate campus
housing, or seek off-campus housing.
Current residents who are 21 years of age or older will no longer be
allowed to reside in the facility and have been offered alternative
campus housing. All students will now take their meals at the Sparks
Center.
Further Delta Tau Delta activities of any kind are strictly prohibited.
As you can imagine, we are working through a range of communications
this morning. I will be in touch with more details as we move forward.
Sincerely,
Pat White
I understand the Administrations decision. The Gentleman’s Rule on campus has been abused over the years, and something needed to happen to let people know that it needed to be taken seriously. No more *wink *wink. The Delta Tau Delta house was shut down. It was ‘a sacrifice of a few for the betterment of the whole’; the whole Student Body, Wabash Community and maybe even the next generation of Wabash Men. However, I was deeply, truly, and remain offended by this particular portion of President White’s email,
From recruitment to the beginning of pledgeship and
through traditions and ritual, we have discovered at Delta Tau Delta a
culture and practice of ungentlemanly behavior and irresponsible
citizenship, which are inconsistent with Wabash’s Gentleman’s Rule,
mission, and core values.
Anybody that has come to the Delta Tau Delta house knows that it is a group of guys who would literally take a bullet for one another, would go out of their way to help someone. It’s no different then every other fraternity on campus. What really sealed the deal for me on coming to Wabash was the Delt house and the guys in it. And to call them, us, me not a gentleman is probably the worst insult I have ever received. I have sacrificed so much, my parents are sacrificing there time with me and their money, my brother is sacrificing his time with me, an I am 1637 miles away from my Grandfather who has paid a huge role in my life and is not doing amazingly well, to come to a school and get told I was not proper and was not a gentleman. Hmm… that really makes an individual want to stay here. Regardless I’m going to stay at Wabash and get a degree, but this will be on my mind forever.
I trust the Administration. I believe that they are good people and good at what they do. I just hope our sacrifice is with held. I ask for people not to be angry and frustrated and be filled with resentment towards the Administration, but to the situation. My dad also told me that it is not the people that are just complaining that you listen to but the people who are raising questions and providing solutions that you listen to. This is a difficult time for everyone. Don’t just support the members of Delta Tau Delta, even though each one of us desperately needs it, but support Wabash College, and the campus as a whole.
Misfortune may just leave bones, but I have seen some pretty cool stuff built out of what others thought were garbage.
Posted by gastone12 at 05:24 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
November 02, 2008
Coffee Anyone?
Three Wabash Men will engage in a Gladiatorial (don't even know if that is a word but a dreaded little red squiggly line didn't show up underneath it) like competition to try and find out the answer to a question that will help, not only the Student Body as a whole, but the Wabash Community and my readers
Energy drinks are getting expensive, so I have been forced to find alternative energy resources. (Wish the auto companies would follow suit)....
Chris Daniels, a freshman Sigma Chi, football player, and classmate in Himsel's Freshman Tutorial, Caleb Mast, a senior Independent,former Wabash basketball player and close friend, and myself are going to spend the next week, unselfishly, finding the best cup of joe at Wabash College. We're going to go into the various academic buildings and snag a cup of coffee. The rules for this very important competition are as follows:
1) Cups of coffee that are a said 'acquired cup' are limited to one cup a day, from each individual academic building.
I. Academic Building-n.- place a Wabash Man may have knowledge and wisdom progressed by a person or persons. Includes Administration building/Center Hall, as knowledge and wisdom radiates from the building.
2) Cups of coffee must only be obtained following this statement, or similar statement, "Good Morning! How's your day going? Mind if I snag a cup of joe, Gar Stone is trying to find the best cup of coffee for his amazing readers and Wabash Community. What a guy huh?"
I. A cup of said 'acquired cup' must be taken directly from the pot of coffee at hand.
II. Private coffee from individual parties, including but not limited to, Professors and Administrators is permissable and will not result in said, 'acquired cup' to be null and void.
III. Personal additives, including but not limited to, half-n-half, sweet-n-low, or individual flavors of creamers, including but not limited to, Hazelnut, Vanilla Cream, Harvest, Chocolate Carmel, are permissable and will not result in said, 'acquired cup' being deemed null and void.
3) Every said, 'acquired cup' must be gained with a smile at all times. And must be followed with a statement, or similar statement, of appreciation like, "Thank You! Your awesome!"
Haha, you think mi Padre's legal influence as rubbed off? Hopefully we will have some fun with this, make some people laugh and smile, meet some cool people, haha and get some much needed energy. I will post the results! Have a good night and mark your calendars for Saturday morning as I will give the highly anticipated details of the best cup of joe at Wabash College, including the roast, brand, if any additives were used, what additives were used, who found the best cup, and who had the best conversation and interaction with the person who gave them the cup of steamy delightfulness.
*Correction- I wrote in a prior blog that Mr. Amidon's coffee was 'strong'. I have been informed by the powers that be, (Mr. Amidon *cough *cough) that it is not strong, but simply a 'deeper roast' and has half the caffeine as a normal cup. Learn something new everyday I guess. ;)!
Needless to say, I will be wide a wake all week, but with a big pearly smile!
WABASH ALWAYS FIGHTS!
Posted by gastone12 at 11:59 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
Great Weekend! Night of the Chargers... not the NFL team.
What a great weekend! Allan and I spent Halloween over at Howard's. He had his house completely decked out and was dressed as a crazed professor. Haha, I know what your thinking and I assure you he wasn't dressed as Professor Webb. He had Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' blaring and was dancing to it. After watching him dance, Allan and I decided our lives were complete. Cathy, his partner in crime from Indy, was dressed as a witch and was occasionally dancing along when she wasn't preoccupied scaring the prince and princesses that came visiting. Somehow amongst the chaos she managed to loose her witches hat that she had burrowed from a friend. Brent Harris was also hanging out at the house. After trick-o-treaters were done, we all went inside and watched movies. We watched The Happening and The Strangers. More than once I was tempted to jump into Scotland's lap, but to things prevented me. 1) He is another guy and that would be awkward for us both. 2) He was about to jump into Brent's lap. We ate pizza, and overall just had a GREAT night! Halloween is always a big deal back home because not only does my Madre loves the festivities, but also because it is my Grandpa's birthday. This year marked his 86th! So I called to wish him a Happy Birthday.
Saturday Caitlin and Claire came to the Cocoon. How's that for an alliteration for you? Caitlin is Scotland's better half. And Claire is to Dylan as the nut is to the squirrel from Ice Age I and II...his treasure. A great alliteration and analogy in the same blog... what else can you ask for? Haha, Dylan will be doing homework and start making random duck noises or some other strange thing. Haha, I use to think it was the weirdest thing. When I found out she does the same thing! As Claire was happily raiding our stash of Chewy Chips Ahoy she made the same random noises when she was bored. I spent half the day laughing. Caitlin made us †cookies. Homemade baked goods... always a good thing to have in the Cocoon. I got a letter from a friend back home that read my 'From the heart...' blog and a 'Halloween' care package from home. As it is wrestling season, and Dylan and Scotty (Scotland, Allan, he has so many names lol), are done with soccer, their season ending in a heart wrenching 2-3 double overtime loss to Overland, the other boys in the Cocoon have enough sugar to last a lifetime. However, mi madre e padre sent a box of Apple Cider packets that will me consumed by me.
I went to church today at the Pleasant View Baptist Church with Caleb Mast and Anthony Noles. Afterwards we went to Applebee's with a couple of Wabash Men I didn't know and two teachers from the area that were friends of Caleb's, were their food to seem to take forever. Watching my weight I enjoyed my coffee with creamer. The company was great however and I enjoyed myself. Afterwards I grabbed some homework that I needed to do and headed over to my god-grandparents house (Karen's parents). I†caught them up with recent events at the Delt Shelter, and Cocoon, and then headed out to their porch and got stuff done! I finally got my thesis paragraph done for Professor Lear who has patiently awaited it. Which only leaves my paper for Webb, and my research update on my research paper on Shay's Rebellion for Himsel to do for the week. 'It aint no big thing'.†
I got back to the Cocoon and realized that I left my charger for my MAC at my grandparents and couldn't find my phone charger. I hunted for my phone charger around the house before going back over to the Powell's to grab my charger for the MAC. I couldn't find it. I'm broke as a joke, so I didn't want to run to Wal - Mart and buy a new one when I†was reminded what mi padre taught me. I'm passing the torch of this knowledge but if any of you have a PALM†CENTRO, and pull this, and then I come along and try it, but you have already been there and taken the last one, I'll be a bit upset. He taught me to, when I loose a phone charger before I invest in another, to go to a local franchise hotel to see if they have one in their lost and found! It is brilliant! People always leave phone chargers in the room, I always do it myself, lol, and there lies why I'm always having to find another one. Sure enough I went to the Holiday Inn in Northern Crawfordsville and right on top of the box was a charger for my phone. Priceless. So I write this with a charging computer and a charging cell phone. Excellent!
Well it's been a great weekend and I†hope everyone else's was just as good. And I'm serious, if ya'll use my technique on finding a charger and take the one for a PALM CENTRO.... oh man oh man.†
OH P.S! I get to get back into Wrestling practice, as tomorrow after my rehab session with Colston, my knee will be ready to rock and roll. We have our first dual on Friday and I†am looking forward to it.†
WABASH†ALWAYS†FIGHTS!
Posted by gastone12 at 10:03 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
October 29, 2008
"...hmm...ohhh....yeah... good point.... I see... go on..."
My dad always told me that I when I got into college I needed to take advantage of the free entertainment. One because it would keep me active in student life, and two well, duh, 'cause it is free. Until tonight I hadn't really gone to any lectures or plays or anything of that nature.
Andrea James gave a talk in the Korb Classroom in the Fine Arts building. Andrea is a female alumni of Wabash College. She transitioned genders after graduating from Wabash and now is a great advocate for her cause and community. When I first heard about this I was highly intrigued because I have never heard of such a thing. Well, to make a long story short, which looking at my last couple of blogs I'm not very good at, I wasn't quite sure what to expect once I got in and sat down.
Grab the remote... rewind to back when I was walking over to the Fine Arts Auditorium. While I was walking across campus I talked to people as they walked by and asked if they were going to hear Ms. James speak. Some of them said yes, some said no, and then some just said some really ignorant comments. Understandably, some may choose not to agree with that lifestyle, but for me as long as your happy and not imposing on others and staying within boundary of the parameters of the law, to each person their own. Now, I don't want to talk politics or any of the jazz cause quite frankly, Professor Himsel as drained me of political debate.
Grab the remote...fast forward back to me being in my seat. Gary James, I don't believe there is a relation, gave the introduction and as he was introducing Ms. James, I was thinking to myself, please don't be preachy, or angry, or bash out on the straight population of American Culture, or talk about food, cause I am wrestling and having to cut weight for wrestling and talking of food would just make me hungry...hold up Kyle Dunaway just came in and we're going to walk to the Quickmart to get an Arizona Tea, be back in a flash... and I'm back, haha Arizona Pomegranate Green Tea is good for the soul.
Anyway, so in front of a packed Korb Classroom with people standing in the corners and aisle ways she delivered a very powerful message. She didn't talk about how mean people were to her, or how she has been scared by the treatment of others, she talked about finding ones true self. Ding, Ding, Ding! She talked about how we need to not worry about what other people think about us, and how we need to live our lives for ourselves not the people around us. And how if we really feel strongly about something to stand up for it and not to back down. My favorite thing that she said was, "Don't let jerks rent space in your head."
Overall I think it was very well done and very powerful. There was a very diverse group of people, gay, straight, and different nationalities in attendance. As each person in the room pulled something different, there was a universal tone of just being yourself, love it and enjoy it. I was pretty impressed and I hope next time people who might have hesitated to go because of sexual orientation or what have you, can go and hear some one that is totally opposite of your own theology, because in the end, that's how one gains knowledge and a better sense of perception. It was a great talk, and I think no matter what, Wabash should be proud to claim her as an alumni. Keep it up Andrea!
Posted by gastone12 at 11:33 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
'Oh Happy Days' from the Wabash Family!
Everything is going well! The last couple of days I have gotten caught up in all of my classes. I thought it would never happen. I'm getting A's on my Latin quizzes, being more aggressive in my debates in my Freshman Tutorial, Founding Father's and Revolutionary Characters. I even am starting to understand the order of the cosmos in History 101. We had our take home exam assigned for Religion 171, which is to defend a heretic theologian. It only has to be three or four pages, so I'm pretty excited to write it.
Throughout the eight weeks I have been here I have discovered a very key piece to what makes Wabash such an amazing place. The professors, and facility genuinely and sincerely care. In high school, we all have one or two teachers that we could always go to for help. Here at Wabash, I know I can go to all of my professors if I need something, want some extra help, or simply to shoot the breeze with. They love to engage with students! For example, I have spent more time talking with Professor Webb, getting help or clarification, then I ever spent total in all of my teachers in high school classrooms. Haha, and for some odd reason he doesn't like to call me Gar or even Grayson. So far he has called me Stone, Stoney, G, Gary Son, Son of Grey, Son of Gary, You, Stoner (only cause my hair has grown out and I wear bandanas) and my favorite... Gaylord.
Another great example of how the professors care is in Professor Zatta, a visiting professor from Italy. I struggle with Latin vocabulary simply because there is so much! And so much of it looks like a word that has a completely different meaning. At least twice a week I can be seen walking into her office. And every time that I do, I'm greeted with a huge smile and, "Good morning Grrazzon." Haha, hearing my spoken with a heavy Italian accent is pretty cool. Anyway, she always is so willing to go over things, even if I was in the day before struggling with the same concepts. I don't know how she can be so patient with me.
As I mentioned above, it is not just the professors that care, but the faculty as well. I have become very close to Howard Hewitt. Haha, I really do not know what his full job description is, but the man does a ton! He is an advisor to The Bachelor, shoots photos of all the events, and a lot of public affairs stuff... I think. Anyway, to just give you an example of the amazing character of man I want to tell you guys about my first NFL game.
Immediately following Johnny's death I had nowhere to go to distance myself from campus. My god grandparents live about a block away from campus, but it is still very close to the situation. Knowing this, and knowing I was down from our conversations, (even though I wouldn't tell him) Howard decided he would take it upon himself to turn my frown upside down. Haha, I love that saying. Anyway, he invited me to go to a Colts home football game against the Ravens. I eagerly accepted, kind of shocked that I was even asked, and Sunday came along and I found myself only 13 rows up from the field. I could have punched Ray Lewis in the face if I had wanted, but as Howard assured me that probably would not be the greatest of ideas. The Colts destroyed the Ravens. After the game he took me to Costco, got the necessary munchies for Cocoon to thrive, and then took me to the Olive Garden where I was mistaken for being over 21 and we were seated in the 'lounge'. I love Olive Garden, a frequent patron, outside of wrestling season. I didn't even know they had such a nice area! Haha, it was pretty funny. Howard felt weird about it, but I adjusted my Red Sox hat and drank my Mt. Dew on the rocks with pride. I don't think I will ever be able to forget the dinner, one cause we were seated in the 'lounge' but to because of what Howard taught me, slash made me realize.
This was after I built the loft, but before I wrote the paper for Webb. So I would say I was still unsure about what was spiritually going on in my mind. I confused on how I wanted to go forward on how to deal with Johnny's death, so many choices. Somehow, whether it be from his fatherlike words, or warmth of being under his wing, he straightened my moral compass from slightly East or West to pointing directly North. I distinctly remember asking him a question, he looked over at me over his chicken something or other, his food wasn't as important to me as mine was, and answered with a look that only Howard can give and said, "Do what you think is right." It wasn't so much the words that he said that made the impact but it was how it was said. There are levels to my relationship Howard. A buddy, a complimentary political critic, a story teller, and a father figure/guiding light. I knew when he said, "Do what you think is right." which Howard was speaking to me. Every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday after our 7:00 am practices, which always seem to come so soon, you can bet on finding me sitting across from Howard relaxing and venting, trying to enjoy the last bit of Jim Amidon's very strong coffee shooting the breeze.
I guess my point of this rant, sorry about the length, is to show not only to prospective students, but just as equally important to parents, that Wabash cares. From the moment you step foot onto campus, your instantly part of a very close knit, loving and supporting family. It is a family, in my opinion, that CANNOT, and NEVER WILL, be found on any other campus. At a time when our minds are being molded, our morals and values are being defined that will dictate our lives, it is imperative to have a Stephen Webb that relates to you like a 22 young man and then 'wows' you with his very complex, diverse and sometimes awkward mind. And the Claudia Zatta's, that cast aside their own daily itinerary to greet you with the millionth 'Good morning Grrazzon' as you walk in the door. Or the Howard Hewitt's, one of those rare one and a million people, that pick you when your laying face down in the worst of things without any kind of compensation.
I guarantee to you this can be found at only one place... and that is right here in Crawfordsville, Indiana at Wabash College. If you haven't seen where your son goes to school (Mom *cough *cough) I'd ask you to come check it out and see first hand the influence that is playing such a key role in your son's future. To the prospective students, if you have any interest as all in this place, I CANNOT ENCOURAGE YOU ENOUGH, come to campus check it out, and see if you could see yourself a Wabash Man. It's worth it tenfold. Shoot me an email, and I'll personally show you around maybe take you to lunch at the Delt House...haha, how's that for a perk package.
For those of you who have your faces pressed against the keyboard from reading to much , wake up, its almost over!... All right, that's all I got for today. Keep smiling, 'Remember the Dump Truck Challenge', and be sure to ask yourself before you click the light off at the end of the day, "Who did you Dump your smiles on today."
P.S, Mrs. Metcalf, I'll see you Friday for a 'Cup of Joe' after Howard's... I'll bring the creamer.
Posted by gastone12 at 05:09 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
October 26, 2008
From the heart...
So I was about to start working on a History paper, or a research plan for my Freshman Tutorial Class, or maybe even break into some Latin, but I felt really compelled to write another blog. As of late I have felt a very overwhelming emotion. Genuine, raw, unfaltering happiness. Even when I'm stressed to the max, or laying sprawled out on the wrestling mat absolutely worn out, I'm happy. So happy in fact, that I'm going to tell all you readers about it. :)!
Growing up, as everyone does, I had some tough times. My situation may have been more intense then others, but it only in the long run, it only made me appreciate the situation I'm now in more. I was angry. I was depressed, I felt alone. In reality I wasn't, but I hadn't truly defined who I was yet to be able to appreciate everything, aka, I wasn't happy. I vividly remember a conversation that I had with my godmother in route to pick up my godsister from school at Southern Oregon University it was a lllloooooooooonnnnnnnnggggg drive so we had plenty of time to talk about. I was driving and somehow Wabash came up, as it always seemed to with Karen and she said that Wabash will define me, it will strip me down of my many fake personas, and reveal the real Gar Stone. I was pissed! I couldn't believe my godmother was telling me I was fake and superficial.
Well, now I'm sitting here in the Cocoon, the name of my room, ( I'll get a picture up stat), conversing with Dylan and Allan and well... everything is perfect. Awhile back ago I asked Allan after practice, (I apologize that this is getting lengthy but I gotta tell it :)), if he had known, all the trials we would be put in, Johnny's death and other issues, if he would have come to Wabash and still became a Delt. He looked at me like I was stupid and said of course. This was the pinch I needed to make sure I wasn't in some sort of dream.
Over the course of the extraordinarily brief time I have been at Wabash College, I have been stripped of any superficial characteristics that I had, and, as I personally see it, stepped out into the world as a changed but genuine Gar Stone, and I love it. And I think Johnny's death had a role, but I don't believe it was the only factor. Over the last two months I have been faced with the opportunities that I was faced with back home. A path to compromising my true self, and I undoubtedly chose the other. I know this is all warm and fuzzy, Dr. Phil type stuff, but it's great.
The best and most important examples I can give to you of how I have developed as my own person emerged from Johnny's death.
The two things I struggled with growing up I think were my relationships with two people. The first with my mother, and the second with God. My mother and I are so much alike. The ol' magnetic theory proves true that opposites attract and similar forces push against. It's ironic that this is the farthest I have been from her, yet it is the closets I have felt. I used to think that I didn't have a mother figure. I can't help now, pardon the expression, but to think of myself as a dumb ass. I never reached out to build, only to spite and hurt her. I can't believe the time I wasted with such a wonderful and beautiful person. hehe Love You Momma!
My relationship with god is a little more tricky... I'm taking a religion course called Intro. to Christianity from one of my role models on campus Professor Webb. The week following Johnny's death I didn't go to a single class. He was worried about me and came numerous times to check up on me. We had a test the following Wednesday and I was flying out Tuesday to go home. He told me he didn't want me to flunk the test and to write him a 3 page paper. We were never able to finalize a paper topic so I ended up writing the following paper. It turned into a very powerful 8 page realization for me. And I am so thankful for us not communicating, which prompted me to write it. I'm just going to copy it on here, and read so you guys can read it. But before I do, Mom I love you and I am so very proud of all your accomplishments, going to back to school to get your SECOND degree in Culinary Arts, and how amazed I am at how far you have come, how far you will go, and I'm thankful I can be apart of this. She has even learned how, with help of a friend, to work a very foreign thing for her called a 'computer', I think that's french or something. So read the paper if you'd like. And thanks for letting me vent. Wabash always has and will fight... and remain a school for men... :).
Quomodone non id?
Diorum potenorum sacrique et pulchri et poteni et doni multi
As a small child my mother emptied more than the beer bottles she would leave beside her nightstand. My self-esteem was nonexistent, and my relationship with God, lost. I remember when I was about six one night, my mom had been drinking heavily, since probably noon, and I was sitting at the kitchen table with my dad was sitting next to me. He took my hand, and told me with tears in his eyes he loved me. With his hand in mine, I prayed to God for him to help mommy… until recently, I felt help never came. Over the time my mom was abusing alcohol I fell apart emotionally, and physically. I essentially let myself go. I was envious of my friends whom had been able to find and secure a friendship with a man that I felt I have never met. Four years ago I began to seek him out. Going to different churches and talking to multiple pastors representing various faiths, helped create, in my heart and mind, the belief that a ‘supreme being’ truly existed. I began to analyze aspects of life, death, etc. for reason and purpose. The scientific answers proved to be unsatisfactory and I emotionally felt empty, in the sense that I didn’t feel psychologically complete. I knew something was definitely missing, but instead of trying to find God, I accepted it and moved on.
In the 19 years, that I have finally realized I have been blessed with, I have buried not one, but four of my friends. Joshua Barnes, a non-medicated bi-polar baseball teammate, killed himself in a stand off with the Idaho Swat team. Justin Hernadez, a teammate on my high school wrestling team, died cliff jumping at Dierkies Lake in Twin Falls. Trevor Heine, another competitive teammate and brother of another teammate on my wrestling team in high school, was killed in a car accident a week before I drove out to Wabash. And most recent, Johnny Dupree “Dump Truck” Smith, a friend who I was just getting to get close to, died in a freak alcohol related accident.
Josh’s death hurt. He was full of potential both athletically and professionally. He was a son to great parents, a great friend, and an even better brother. Josh’s speed in the outfield and amazing glove was can be paralleled to few. He was a hard worker; he just struggled, as we all do, to come to terms with his emotional issues. I have had my own emotional battles, faced them and walked away without any repercussions. Why did couldn’t he have?
Justin’s death stung my heart. I draped my national championship singlet on his grave as well as the left shoe of my wrestling shoes on his grave. He was a beloved son, an idol and great role model to his younger brother, and my little buddy. His death left a wrestling team wounded and grieving. As a team we honored him by dedicating my junior season to his memory. I still remember I was the first one at his funeral, and was in tears in the front pew, when his mother came in. We wept together. Then she turned to me and said four words, “Win. Win for Justin.” I wrestled in honor of him in my first appearance in the Idaho State Wrestling Final, my highest accomplishment in my career at Twin Falls. I had enjoyed jumping the very same cliffs hundreds times, and had been able to simply swim away without any repercussions. How couldn’t he have?
Trevor Heine reopened the Twin Falls Wrestling healing wounds. He was a true pain in the ass in the room, always being a goofball. At his funeral our wrestling Coach Saiid Dabestani, a Iranian World Champion wrestler, who always spoke with a few strong Iranian, spoke very clear perfect English as Trevor’s loss had slowed his speech down. With everyone in tears, they played Kid Rock’s “Summertime”, as we watch pictures and video footage in a full auditorium. It was the perfect song, it fit him his personality so well, for the perfect little brother, son, and another potentially great brother.
Johnny D. “Dump Truck” Smith’s death was the decisive blow and a turning point in my life. I was not as close to him as I would have gotten closer to him had he been giving the opportunity to live. He was a football player from Arizona that I met at Honor’s Scholarship weekend at Wabash. We both stayed at the Delta Tau Delta fraternity, took the same Honor’s test, which in the end we laughed about because we decided they had ‘taken us’. This was the weekend that he began, “Dump Truck” after Benjamin “Dump Truck” Walner, my brother’s best friend at the University of Idaho. He loved and hated that nickname.† He was a guy that didn’t talk much, but when he did, you listened. He was always putting others first, doing others chores around the house, even when he wasn’t asked to, even pulled an all nighter to make sure the Delts’ Homecoming project was perfect the night before the game. Sunday morning of Honor Scholarship wekkend came, and we went our separate ways looking forward to the start of the four great years we would spend together in the fraternity at Wabash in the fall. Fall came and we were limited, but once again blessed, to half a semester together. He was a cherished son, ruthless competitor, a guiding light for his younger brother, a future Delt, and a great Wabash man. Hundreds of thousands of people of all ages, including the young and elderly have consumed, and will continue to consume grotesque amounts of alcohol, and wake up in the morning to continue to go about their day with a regretfully painful headache. Why couldn’t he?
I went to two out of the four funerals. Justin and Trevor’s. This was very rare for me because I had always tried to avoid them. I had a psychological image and theory when I attended funerals that one day my body would be in the casket, and that nobody would come to pay their respects to me, or would even care I was gone. I’d walk away from them, not with closure but with a sense that I was worthless and disposable. Another reason I think I didn’t funerals was because when it came to a death, I was the guy that would try and not let if effect me. I would try and sweep the passing of someone under the rug, and move on. Looking back at it now. It was the wrong thing to do. I never allowed myself time to grieve and celebrate their lives. Believe it or not, it is ok for the tough guy to cry. If I could go back, I would have attended every funeral of all the people I held dear.
I physically couldn’t attend Johnny’s funeral because it was in Arizona. But in a sense I had one of my own that lasted about 15 straight hours. There wasn’t a church, flowers, music, body, or a casket. It was just I, downstairs in the bottom of the Delt house, creating a loft. Little did I know I would sleep in it a totally transformed person.
As I was sitting on the couch sanding away on a 4x4, I played the situation through my head logically over and over and over again. And every time I felt worse and worse. Then, I looked down at myself and saw all the sawdust from sanding and thought. God that’s a lot of sawdust. That’s when it happened. I felt a very small almost comfort. It literally scared the shit out of me. I said it to myself again…God…. there it was again but a little bit stronger. I then begin to analyze the situation ‘spiritually’, or as ‘spiritually’ has an agnostic can. Now, before I can continue on this, I need to take a step back to the summer of my sophomore year in high school.
August 12, 2004, I was in the basement with a .22 Ruger revolver pressed firmly against my right temple. My mom had been sober for a couple years, but our relationship was still a total wreck. Earlier in the evening we were at T.J. Maxx getting clothes for my brother for school because he was leaving the next day. One thing led to another and there was a verbal fight between my mom and I, and my brother said he was going to leave that night instead of in the morning. One thing led to another, and I had enough. I went downstairs, wrote a note, loaded the pistol, and put it to my head, the steel of the barrel against my hair and I pulled the trigger.
The gun misfired, or I put the bullet in the wrong slot. Regardless, I dropped the gun, and ran away from home to a friend’s house where the police were called and the situation was handled. Since then I have been through hours of counseling and therapy… so don’t worry, I’m much better now, I promise. After awhile though, I realized that some force, one greater than myself, had made me mis-load the bullet or made the pistol misfire. Regardless, I decided that I had essentially been giving a second chance by somebody, but I never knew who until this year.
So there I was in the basement of the Delt house at Wabash College, with a belief in ‘some force stronger than myself’ when I had this image of Dump Truck smiling. Then the floodgates opened and I felt this overwhelming sense of comfort, like somebody had put there arm around me and somewhere in the back of my mind came the words keep going. My thoughts from there are a blur. But the result of those 15 horribly amazing hours is I now have a very strong, yet raw, belief in God, and answered my questions of who gave me my second chance and why they did.
I can’t say point-by-point what I believe in as far as religious affiliation nor can I say I am a member of a church. I have never read the bible cover to cover, nor have I looked into the principles or fundamentals of each denomination. But does it really matter? Aren’t all denominations simply branches off the trunk of the belief of an almighty and loving God. Yet, I do believe that as I investigate deeper into the different churches I will find one that I feel I agree with most, and my relationship with God will become stronger and stronger because of the fact I will be able to have people who feel the same, and believe the same around me.
So far the best way to describe my religious views are through two images. First, ironically I view my religious progression as the very thing I was working with when I had my ‘spiritual awaking’, a piece of lumber. Life is just like a big solid piece of 4x4. It is ugly and rough. Yet, the more you sand, and the more you work with it the better it looks and feels. You sand that sucker down, and stain, and then put a couple coats of polyurethane on it, sand it some more, and seal it again, your going to end up with something beautiful. The grain will radiate and shine, and it will be nice and smooth as glass. All the raw material was stripped away with hard work and its beautiful core is found. Life is no different. The more we work to make our lives better and also the lives of those around us, the smoother we become and the closer we are to finding our true selves and grain. But, this can only happen once your willing to allow it. Other than my suicide attempt I can honestly say that I was at the nadir of my life. I was completely exposed, and emotionally weak, which allowed me to discover who I really was: a hurting individual.
The second image that portrays my beliefs is that of a long and narrow back country road. However, most back country roads have sage, or other wild plants. This road is tunneled in with beautiful, tall, fully blossomed roses running down both sides. So dense in number and in size that one can’t see what awaits them on other side. The road itself symbolizes life and the roses temptation. Once we have sanded ourselves down to our core, found are true selves, and found God, the Grand Architect puts on it so that we may journey back to him. As each day passes we journey farther and farther drawing closer and closer to him and to Heaven.
As time progresses we began to wonder what’s on the other side of the beautiful blossoms so we swerve off and try investigate, we give into temptation. At first we want only a glance, but then we want to get a closer look so we try and get further and further into the roses and the thorns on the stems began to cut into our flesh. Then all of a sudden we find ourselves stuck, and not able to get out of the roses. God realizes this, and cuts us free, and clears a path for us to get back, but with a price. Sometimes the price is very minute, other times it can be quite severe like death. The price is not to punish, but to serve as a painful reminder that we don't need to see what lays beyond because anything we ever need is on the road towards God.
This figurative road to God helps me find meaning in deaths like Josh’s, Justin’s, Trevor’s, and Johnny’s. The pain we feel from their passing is the reminder to stay on the road. Too many people were caught up in the thorns of temptation, and God needed a way to get us all back on track, and at the same time, make it so we wouldn’t immediately give right back to temptation. With each passing of a close friend, we all analyze are own lives, and find things that we can do better within ourselves.
So here I stand, at the very beginning that long road. And I realize that I have two very distinct choices. First, I can do what I always do and just try and play the tough guy; ignoring any sort of emotional reactions to anything and just get angry. Or, I can accept God into my life and find answers in his divinity. When I ask the question why couldn’t he, I can get angry and depressed, or grieve but then celebrate their life. I have already given then answer to that question. Quomodone non id? Diorum potenorum sacrique et pulchri et doni multi. Why couldn’t he? The answer lies in the knowing of the sacred and beautiful gifts of a powerful God. My right foot will go in front of my left, each day drawing closer and closer back to God. If I am tired, he will let me rest. If I am hungry he will allow me to eat. If I swerve he will realign me. In my times of need his arms of comfort will embrace me.
The best of things can result from the worst of things. For instance, God’s divine light. It appears most vivid in the darkest of times and all you have to do is reach up and grab it. Once you do, that light will be come apart of you, comforting and guiding you until that sacred day, when the road will end, and you will stand before him.
Posted by gastone12 at 09:55 PM | Comments (12) | TrackBack (0)
Victory is sweat...
'Victory is sweat'... is painted in bold letters on the North side of our wrestling room, and about half way through practice, when I'm hurting, I just stare at that phrase. I can't tell you why, but for some reason it keeps me going. In the wrestling room in Twin, which is about a quarter of the size of the one at Wabash, my focal point was the water fountain.
I can already feel myself getting physically stronger. Coach Slotten, a grumpy wrestling coach that could literally tear a grown man in half, would always ask me how much time I spent in the weight room knowing full well that my lifting career had figurative cobwebs on them. Haha, I really wished I would have hit that weight room. College wrestling is more demanding physically, mentally, but also academically. Wabash is already very challenging academically, throw another huge time commitment into the mix, and you got yourself quite a challenge.
I can honestly say I am enjoying myself though, my heart is set on helping the team grow as much as possible, even if it does mean I don't eat the third bowl of cereal, or millionth candy bar, life at Wabash is sweet enough without it...
Posted by gastone12 at 12:07 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
