Planes, Trains and Automobiles
When my brother and I were in high school, we went on a spring break ski trip to Steam Boat Springs in Colorado. The trip took around 24 hrs via a chartered bus carrying kids from 2 or three high schools. It was the chance of a lifetime but tragically, on the long ride home just outside of Utah, our bus driver fell asleep, the bus rolled, and we landed upside down in a dark, icy ravine.
The crash took the life of one boy from my school and a girl from a neighboring school who were crushed under the bus. There were also crushed jaws, punctured lungs, and many broken bones.
I remember my brother helping me out a window where I could walk to safety while he went back to help more kids. Adrenaline is amazing because as I climbed aboard the bus that stopped to help us, I realized I had broken ribs (from an air-born boom box), a large laceration on my leg, and blood coming through my sweatshirt and jeans. I would come to find my wounds, and that of my brother was minimal compared to others that night.
Many parents flew to Utah right away to be with their children who were hospitalized or just to pick them up and travel home with them. Our parents had been on vacation themselves and were hard to reach back in the days of no cell phones. ( as a mother of teens now, I can imagine this nightmare for my parents.) A number of us who had minor injuries were released and flown to Vegas and then onto LA.
I remember a little puddle jumper we rode from Utah to Vegas with like flip-down seats. My brother and I shared a look as if to say, "Now we are going to die in a plane?"
Our clothes were ratty and bloody, and I am sure we looked like we'd been in a bus accident. When we were finally reunited with our parents in LA, there was media everywhere, these days referred to as paparazzi! And even more at our house! What an excellent story.
"Local brother and sister survive deadly bus accident film at 11!"
The days following were very uneventful. We missed a bit of school while our injuries healed, everyone sued the bus company that went bankrupt after settling, and I remember some insurance man taking my picture across from my house as I crutched to the mailbox one day.
Then after that, business as usual. I don't think I developed a fear of buses or traveling or the sorts, but I did think I gained a heightened awareness of my mortality. In that, I mean I am always aware that my car, bus, plane, or boat, COULD crash, and my captain COULD
make a mistake.
My brother and dad and I used to take a chartered bus to Mammoth every February with my dad’s work. We did so again after the accident, and I remember sitting right behind the driver, offering him coffee and talking to him all night. Perhaps he found it distracting, but my goal was to keep him awake. For many years I was skittish like that; to this day, turbulence is not my friend.
This week I put my daughters, 11 and 13, on an airplane by themselves for the first time to visit their grandparents in California. For me, it felt like my heart was in the air until I heard they were safe and sound on the ground.
While they were in California, my boys (6 and 7) and I went to Kids Kamp at reunion ranch in Georgetown. Every day at 8, we would load the bus at church with 52 campers under the age of 10, me, and a few other chaperons, and head 1 hour northeast of Austin for a day of outdoor fun! We did it with water slides, pony rides, and zip lines. All with a little bible theme about HERO that we weaved throughout the day.
So here I am, on a bus again, this time at the back. But of course, upon boarding, I met my driver and asked him how he was feeling today! It was loud and crazy and hot and sweaty, and my attitude every day would swing from, "I dislike these stinky whiny, selfish brats" to seeing what God must see, all these little children of His filled with potential and raw untapped talent, leaders of our next generation and I began to dream about the great plans God had for them. Every day at camp, my group met under a tree for 20 minutes to talk about the Bible. I had 14 6-7-year-olds who could see the playground over my shoulder, so 20 minutes was an eternity for them and for me.
But one day, in particular, made riding a bus all worth it for me. Most of my group were church kids, but a few were there just for the cool camp. We talked all week about following Jesus as your example, and when I said to my group, "so you can't literally follow Jesus because he does not live on the earth like you and me." One little boy raised his hand with a shocked look and asked me, " Where does he live then?"
As I paused to think about what to say, my sweet little group jumped in to answer him! They explained to him where Jesus lives. "In Heaven!", "No! in our hearts," "Well, everywhere!" My campers and I explained the gospel to him and how you can follow Jesus as your HERO. I know there is still so much for him to learn, but it was my great pleasure to help that coin drop for him.
Today as we rode home, I sat in the back of the bus with my own sleepy boys and watched the tops of tired heads bobbing to stay awake.
I always pray for safety before I travel and before my family travels away from me. But today, my heart was full of a different prayer. " God, thank you for sparing my life. Thank you for giving me the courage to board a bus full of potential and hearts that can be turned towards you. Thank you for giving me one more day and counting me worthy of teaching them about you."
When I stepped off the bus yesterday, stinky and sweaty and ready to go home, a parent was standing there with flowers for me. Thanking me for "taking care of their daughter." I was moved to tears and casually said, " it was my pleasure!" They will never know the truth of that statement.
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." Deut. 31:6