The print. (Oregon City, Oregon) 1977-1989, May 11, 1988, Image 6

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    Most people have a special
place that they visit whenever
they can. Sometimes they go to
the mountains or the ocean or
another place that means
something to them. My spot is
much easier to get a chance to
visit because it is in my own
backyard, and I take advantage
of it as frequently as possible.
There is a special bench
beside the back door, which
calls to me whenever I am in the
vicinity. When the newspaper
arrives, a knowledge of what has
happened overnight becomes
imperative and I rush to get the
paper, but instead of doing the
expected thing and returning to
the warm living room and televi­
sion, my path leads around the
house to my special seat on the
patio. That is where the paper is
read, under the bright night
light, which bathes the whole
area in an artificial glow until
the sun's first rays hit the
automatic switch that ex­
changes one kind of light for
another.
A glance at my watch sends
me hurrying into the house to
begin my day while life on the,
patio goes on. The birds sing and
chatter, with periodic stops to
guard their territory against all
real or imaginary intruders.
The sun rises high in the sky
and the morning's energies
change to a time of quiet rest
while the sun's heat seems to
diminish the importance of any
unnecessary exertion. The day
passes.
The mail box is my first stop.
Then from there I go back to
that special spot to read the
mail. It is sorted before it ever
ìr
enters
the
unbelievable amount of mail
seems to find its way to my
house. The number of lists that
contain my name or that of my
children or my deceased hus­
band and mother seem to go on
forever. In fact, my step-dad,
who has been dead for more
than 30 years, still has mail for-'
warded to my house.
Glancing up, I see my resi-,
dent robins, with their wings
outspread, beseechingly looking!
at me and waiting for the
sprinkler to be turned on.|
Everything can use some water,
after a day with such oppressive •
heat.
;
Birds come from everywhere. I
They flit through the shifting
streams of water as if this was
their own special entertainment.
The resident robins are pa-1
tient. They act as if they unders­
tand the needs of others, but
when one of the visitors tries to
pull a worm from the ground,
they turn on the others and try
to drive them out of the yard.
They might share the water, but ]
they certainly weren't going to
share the worms. Enough is
enough.
Hours pass and shadows fall
across
the
patio.
The
temperature starts to fall and.
the birds slip into their overnight'
shelters. The fuschias sway gent­
ly in the soft breeze.
It is watering time. My plants
are beautiful, but they are con­
sumers of more drinks than I
really want to spend time giving
them.
The sun drops below the
horizon leaving behind a bright
glow in the sky, which gradually
darkens until it almost disap
pears, and just as it does, th<
automatic light comes on an<
turns everything bright again.
Another day has passed an<
the time has come to leave m,
special place and go into th«
house for the night From tim<
to time during the darkness, 1'1
peek out a window making surf
that all is well.
by Bee Hall
“Inner Strength
After just a few years of marriage, the tarnish of real life had
overcome us. I was disenchanted as my knight on the white
charger began to look more and more human. We had both
become complacent and were taking each other for granted. I
complained that he didn’t pay enough attention to me or spend
enough time with the children. Any ailment sent him reeling, and
I perceived this as weakness. It never occurred to me that he was
working in conditions that were not conducive to extra energy or
high spirits.
His morning started as any other. He was working on a por­
table power transformer when the electricity jumped forth from
the energized switch, like a mad dog, aiming to attack anything
within its reach. The huge fireball came into contact with his right
wrist between the cuff of his jacket and his glove; 34,500 volts
tracked over him. It raced up and under his arm, and then across
his chest. Some current entered his body and found its way out
the palm of his left hand and thigh which were resting against a
steel beam. The force knocked him backwards off the ladder he
had been standing on. He fell approximately 10 feet and landed
on a metal grate, splitting his scalp and ripping open his face.
When his working partner reached him, he was not breathing
and his heart was stopped. His tongue was swollen and pro­
truding from his mouth. His muscles had contracted to such an
extent that his neck, huge and tight, resembled that of a buck
deer in rut. CPR was started, but there was no way of giving ar­
tificial respiration. All of the sudden he took a deep breath
through his nose. In shock, he began to try to get up and was
mumbling something unintelligible. When the paramedics arriv­
ed, they placed him in the ambulance and began attending his
multiple injuries. They doubted that he would survive the 45 mile
trip to the nearest hospital.
Once in the hospital, his charred clothing was cut away, expos­
ing the extensive damage. Blisters hung from his body like huge
water balloons. He shook the table so hard that the rattling of it!
metal parts could be heard in the waiting room. Through all ol
this he heard and recognized my mother’s voice. He demandec
to know where the children were and who was taking care ol
them.
Weeks of painful debrising followed the accident. Several dif
ferent treatments were tried: some good, some bad, some
helpful, some damaging. The force of his jaw muscles constric
ting had shattered seven of his teeth and loosened the rest, mak
ing it hard for him to eat. The bum on his face from the flash had
started to heal and gave it an eerie gray look. His head was par
dally shaved to accommodate the black worm-like stitches. His
arm had started to swell and was elevated by tying it in an upright
position on an I.V. pole.
He laid there helpless and in torment for 30 days. He rarely
complained, and when he did it was justified. At one point he
realized he was becoming addicted to the medication. During an
evening visit, he informed his doctor that he would no longei
take the pain medication. His reasoning being, he was going to
have enough to overcome without a dependency on drugs.
Seven months later he returned to work for the same company,
repairing the same equipment. He would say, “If you fall off the
horse, you gotta get back on.”
Many years have passed and he has hit mare obstacles. Each
time he is faced with a situation where the odds seem insurmoun­
table, I watch him draw upon the faith that kept him alive, the
strength that brought him through the pain, and the determine
tion that helped him return to the profession that he loved. He is
not the man I thought I married; he is much more.
by Alta Ray