My first book

The first book I read, 'Fun with Dick and Jane' was a series written in the 1930s and it rose to popularity in the 1950s.  My school used it long after other schools had moved on to more modern works but the area was poor and we couldn't afford anything better.  My classmates and I didn't know that at the time.  All we knew were the words on the page as we struggled to translate them into words we already knew in our heads.

See Dick.
See Jane.
See Spot Run.
Run Spot Run.

It was a basic form of learning but I struggled mightily at first.  The teaching method my teacher choose for this book was a reading circle.  Each kid took turns trying to read a three word page and once they finished the next kid would tackle the following page.  It's been many years since but I can still remember the anxiety I felt as it grew closer to my turn.  I was too young to understand that this panicked feeling hindered my learning though it didn't really matter.  Even now I still blush uncontrollably.when speaking in public.  It is part of who I am.  

One other thing my teacher did was to split us into groups based on her evaluation of our ability.  She probably did this to spare our feelings so that kids that struggled wouldn't have to watch the kids that did better.  She put me in the B reading group and all my friends were in the A reading group.  I must have protested because other than the memory of the general terror I felt at reading in front of the group I remember one thing: she told me that I'd always struggle to be a good reader.

Kids are often told they are little angels and I think this was the first time I was told that I might not be able to get everything I wanted in life.  I didn't want to believe it.  I told my mom who promptly yelled at the teacher but I took it a step further.  I decided I was going to show this teacher that she was wrong.  I was a stubborn little kid (and a stubborn adult if I'm honest with myself).

When anyone asked me what I wanted for Christmas or my Birthday I asked for books.  One grandmother answered my request and bought me a subscription to the 'I Can Read' series that delivered one book per month for much of my early childhood.  She also spent a year driving past her normal store to one that would give you one encyclopedia book for free if you bought enough groceries.  I was too young to understand just how much I would come to value those later in life but I do remember my happiness as the bookshelf my parents had bought for our living room slowly filled from A to Z.  

I read everything I could find and sometimes I found it necessary to fake reading things I didn't understand as I liked the attention I got from reading advanced books in front of adults.  Despite that hubris, my reading skill improved far beyond other kids my age. When we took the standardized tests in 4th grade to determine our learning progress I remember testing at an 8th grade reading level.  Up to that point I'd always thought I was stupid and predictably my thoughts returned to my 1st grade teacher.  I didn't have the courage to approach her directly but I had beaten the words that had prompted my reading passion.  Later in life I realized I probably misunderstood her words and meaning.  In fact she probably would have been thrilled to know about my progress and her part in inspiring me.  Either way, her words kickstarted my learning using the power of books .

My parents divorced by the time I had gotten the test results and by that time I was no longer close to my paternal grandmother that had bought so much of my personal library.  That gap never closed and I regret never taking the time before she died to thank her for her part in making me who I am today.

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Being lost in the desert & Christian Hypocrisy

I had an 'interesting' experience with a church a while back.  It's a long story but I promise it has a point.

My parents live next to a desert park and when I visited them last year I took the opportunity to do some hiking.  The park is huge with a few mountains in it and after a few short hikes I decided to go on a much longer one and climb one of the higher mountains in the middle of the park.  I packed plenty of food and water but as I knew he worried, I loaded some software to my phone so my dad could track my progress on Google Maps.

Three hours later I'm at the top and call my dad to brag about my accomplishment and see that my phone has used about half its charge.  Since I'm halfway done with the hike I don't think much about it.  I climb down using a path I'd predetermined and make my way to a gully I saw on Google Maps that would take me to a path I'd used before to return to my parent's house.  When I arrived I saw the gully had a few vertical walls and looked impassible without climbing gear.

At this point in a hike you have a few choices.  The gully was the shortest path.  To go back the way I came would feel like defeat.  If you know the territory and have good maps you can explore but it would be getting dark in about four hours.  That made the choice easy and I turned around.  The problem was because of the way I'd descended there was literally a mountain between me and the path I needed to get to.  With no way to know how long it would take I decided to go with the safest option which was to walk out of the park (the park is probably 20 miles long but only 8 miles wide) to the nearest road and have my parents pick me up.

When I got my phone out of my pack as I saw the battery had dropped below 20% and falling fast.  I'd hiked with it before with no issues and I realized the tracking software I loaded had drained my battery so I turned it off (pretty dumb in hindsight and I've since bought a battery backup).  At that point the mountain was blocking my cell signal so I checked every 10 minutes until I could make a call.

My dad sounded relieved as his first comment was...

"We've been tracking you all afternoon but it just stopped about twenty minutes ago."

I only managed a few words before my phone went dead.

I've done a lot of solo hiking and while I know it is dangerous it is great to be able to hike at your own speed and take the paths as your mood and your legs dictate.  All I could think about at that moment is how that must have sounded my my dad's end of the call.  I considered going back around the mountain but I was pretty sure it would get dark before I got out of the park and night hiking is stupid if you don't know the area.  I set a fast pace for the park's nearest trailhead exit.  It took about two hours and the whole time I kept thinking about my parents and how they must be worrying.  When I got to the road that led to town I expected to see some businesses so I could make a phone call but found everything shut down as  it was nearly 5pm.  Not wanting to approach a strange house I headed towards town.

I saw a church in the distance.

It's always surprised me how many churches you can find in the country.  I've done a lot of biking and I love churches as I've found they are a great refilling location as they never turn their water off.  The sign in the front of the building said 'Church of Christ' and the parking lot was half full.  Surely I could find help here.  I heard singing as I approached the door.

That's when I saw it.  A water fountain.  Great!

Any hiker/biker takes the opportunity to refill whenever they see water and I made straight for it.  The water bladder I carry was about half full when I noticed someone had approached.  I'd been hiking for 5 hours at that point and knew I must have looked terrible as I was sweaty, covered in trail dust and hadn't shaved in 4 days.  The man didn't say a word but his stare looked apprehensive.

I spoke first.  "Umm.... I got lost in the nearby park and am refilling my water bottle."

The man didn't speak but I noticed the singing had stopped and two other men had joined him.

I asked, "Would you guys happen to have a phone?"

The man finally spoke.  "No.  The church doesn't have a phone."

I could tell he was lying but I decided to be pushy because of my parents.  "Not even a cell phone?  I know my parents are worried sick about me and I need to call them."

The man relented a little.  "I have a cell phone.  What's your parent's number?  I will dial it."

This part stumped me.  I didn't know my parent's number.  When I call my parents I push the little button on my iPhone with their name.

"I don't know.  I just push the button on my phone but it's dead."

The man shook his head.  "How can you not know your own parent's number?"

While I explained I saw a few other men had come outside.  At this point I was desperate.

"Guys.  I can see you don't believe me but I've been hiking in the desert all day and ended up on the wrong side of the park.  My parents are expecting me home now and they are going to going to be worried sick.  It wouldn't surprise me if they call out a search party soon.  All I need is the information service on someone's phone so I can call my parents.  Or if any of you have an iPhone, I could use your charger.  In fact, if you have a USB power hub, I have my charger cable in my backpack."

My worse fell on deaf ears.  "There's nothing we can do and you need to go out to the road.  Maybe someone there can give you a lift.  Or you can make your way into town.  It isn't far."

I was flabbergasted.  Was he suggesting I hitchhike despite being in a parking lot full of cars?  Why was he so hesitant to let me use his cell phone?  I always carried cash on me and was planning to pay him for the cost.

As I struggled for words, I noticed the man had crossed his arms.  He said, "Are we going to have a problem?"

At this point I think all the men inside the church had come out but not one said a word.  I was getting a little nervous.  Anyone that has ever seen a bar fight knows the phrase, 'Are we going to have a problem'.  That's usually the last thing that is said before fists fly.  I thought about mentioning that I'd pay for using the phone but decided against it as they looked to be getting pissed.  Of course, the man could have only been talking about calling the cops on me and in hindsight that would have saved the taxpayers a lot of money.  Instead, I walked out of the parking lot but not before asking a final question as my trail map only covered the park.

"How far is town from here?"

"About a mile."

I looked it up later.  It is six miles.

I'm a strong hiker and thankfully the road was smooth and flat.  The walk didn't bother me.  What bothered me was this was a church.  I was raised Christian but grew out of my beliefs by my middle teens.  Despite that I've always believed that Christians were mostly good people.  Of course this was only one guy in only one church and I know there are many other good people in other churches.

But it bothered me.  A lot.

Every step made me madder and madder.  Here was a group of people that had taken time out of their Wednesday evening to sing songs to a man that had spent 40 days in the desert and come out preaching psalms they supposedly believed in.  Things like 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone', 'blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth', 'turn the other cheek', and 'love thy neighbor'.

I spent 4 hours in a desert and they wouldn't let me use their phone.

I thought about approaching some of the houses I passed but after the reception at their church I decided that wasn't smart as the area is very fond of the NRA and technically I would be trespassing on their property.  It was pitch dark when I got to town and I got quite a few strange looks as I was carrying my hiking poles and wearing my headlamp.  After calling information and getting my dad's number I called his house but got no response.  As I was getting tired I thought about getting a room in a local hotel but they picked up on my 5th try.  My ordeal was over after about 9 hours and 15+ miles.  As you can imagine my parents were relieved as they had been out looking not realizing the only number I could call was their listed home number.

When I hadn't arrived, they had gone to dinner hoping that as an experienced hiker (and knowing me) that I was probably running late.  Word spread at the restaurant that I was missing and when I hadn't returned when it got dark they called the sheriff.  Two teams of deputies with dogs headed into the park to the location where my dad lost my signal on Google Maps while the county helicopter with a spotlight searched overhead.  A few of my dad's friends made it about a quarter mile up the darkened trail in a nice but futile gesture.  Somehow word had spread through the community and ironically a prayer vigil started at the trailhead where I'd entered the park.  It is too bad none of these people were at church that night though it would be funny if they were and didn't realize it.

My call brought an end to it all and in hindsight I know I made some stupid decisions that were the root of all that followed.  It is one thing to hike and only be accountable to yourself but sometimes you have to think of others before charging blindly to the next peak.  I didn't use enough planning and foresight.

On the other hand, it all could have been averted if one guy and one church stepped up and actually lived up to the words to which I'm sure they damn others for not following.  This whole episode reinforces my belief that church isn't about salvation or compassion but a selfish enterprise full of people not able to deal with the ambiguity of an existence that no one can fully explain and the reality of a death that will eventually come to us all.

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