"Being There"
As my eyes slowly opened, I became aware of a surreal
scene enveloping me. I was lying down in a fast moving vehicle and inside of
some sort of tunnel as red lights flashed and bounced off the walls. Sirens
wailed and reverberated against the thick concrete walls as they interlaced
with the lights to create a cacophony of sound and light that confused and
bewildered my senses. At first it seemed that I was on an ethereal journey and
floating on a transforming voyage somewhere between heaven and earth. Then I
realized I was in an ambulance and passing through an underpass. As we emerged from the viaduct I grasped that
I was near the main train station terminal in downtown Fort Worth and headed
for one of the hospitals.
The next thing
I saw and heard was Ted leaning over the gurney where I lay and appealing in a timorous
voice filled with grave concern, “David, are you all right?”
I looked at his glum face and haggard
appearance as I listened to his earnest appeal, and thought “Man you should look at yourself
in the mirror”. His face was bruised and his forehead was cut above his eye.
“Where are we”, I asked, “and what happened?”
As I spoke, the anxiety drained from his face and was
replaced with a broad smile, as he realized that he hadn’t killed me after all.
It had been a long night and it took me a few moments to recall the last things
I could remember. We were both in the high school band and we had travelled to
Marshall on a school sponsored train trip to perform for our football team at halftime.
Ted’s girl friend, Becky, had gone along on the trip. The return trip did not
arrive back in Fort Worth until 1:00-2:00am and then we had to take her home in
Grand Prairie. After dropping her off around 2:30am we headed back to our home
in Fort Worth. I fell asleep in the back
seat with my trombone case in the floorboard and unfortunately, Ted fell asleep
while driving. Handley road was unique in that at one point it made a hard left
for about a hundred feet and then a hard right, which was difficult to maneuver
in the best of times. At almost three in the morning, when you are exhausted
and drowsy, it proved impossible. I was asleep when it happened, so I have no
personal recollection, but Ted later described the scene to me.
After dropping Becky off, he had decided to take a
backroad shortcut through Handley because he was tired. He was driving his
pride and joy, a solid green ’56 Chevrolet two-door coupe with a stick shift
and a 265 cu in V8 engine plus overdrive that roared like a lion. He became as
exhausted as I was and he doesn’t remember exactly what happened; just that
when he came to the two turns, he missed the first one and drove straight into
someone’s yard and connected with an 8” cottonwood tree. He was traveling at sufficient
speed to uproot the tree and flip the car over on it’s left side as it slid to
a violent stop. The trombone case and I must have done some major flopping
around, because I was knocked unconcious and the horn case and the trombone
were badly mangled. Ted tells me that shortly thereafter, the engine caught on
fire as he was crawling out of the front passenger side window. Though he was
obviously in shock and banged up, he realized that I was still lying in a heap
in the back seat and not moving. A neighbor came running out of a nearby house
and Ted got him to help drag me out of the back seat of the car. He knew that I
was breathing, but he was concerned about the massive bump over my left eye. An
ambulance picked us up and Ted insisted on riding with me.
I was a sophomore and Ted was a senior. Fortunately, the concussion was my only
injury. My state of sleep had relaxed my
body and prevented me from further injury. Unfortunately, Ted’s revered car was
damaged beyond repair and a total loss. He had worked hard and paid for the car
himself, but he didn’t have insurance to repair it. I know that it was a bitter
pill for him to swollow, but he moved on.
I don’t know why I regained concsciencesness in the
middle of the underpass, but it was a moment that I will never forget. I will
always be grateful to my brother who pulled me from the car and who was sitting
next to me when I re-entered the world. He was doing something that I have seen
him do on numerous occasions since then. When someone is in trouble, he is
there to help pull them to safety. I can vouch for that because it was not the
last time he helped me escape a catastrophe. It is his nature to help those he
loves. He has a steady demeanor that you can depend on, regardless of the
circumstances.
In the insuing years, Ted stoically endured the loss of
his unborn child in an automobile wreck that injured all of us and his wife. In
the days before seatbelts, we were all thrown about, but Becky smashed into the
windshield of the car and her unborn child was slammed into the dashboard. He
was a rock for her to lean on and he provided the strength to sustain them.
Ted has retired now and he enjoys a good life in a small
town near Fort Worth. He worked 40 years at General Motors and he wisely saved
for his leisure years. He raised two beautiful girls and a son who have blessed
him with grandchildren. After a divorce that was not of his choosing, he
married a sweet lady named Fay and picked up two more daughters and another
son. They are proud great-grandparents and they have another due at any time. He
is a Godly man who walks the walk and talks the talk.
We have both had some close calls on health issues in
our later years, but he usually doesn’t tell anyone about his issues until they
are passed. When our brother Mike had a heart attack in Dallas, Ted dropped
everything and accompanied him throughout his open heart surgery. I joined them
from out of state, but Ted was there daily, accountable and eager to assist. My
open heart surgery came next and both Mike and Ted arrived in North Carolina to
be at my bedside before and after my surgery. They stayed until they knew I was
out of the woods and on the road to recovery. In recent years they returned to
North Carolina for my cancer surgery and repeated the process of making sure
that all was well before they left. Most recently, Ted and I flew to Phoenix to
join Mike during his chemo/radiation treatments for cancer. Ted was there and
showed care and concern throughout the first week’s treatment.
Like all of us, he has endured hard times and he has not
always made the right choices. But he never sits idly by when something needs
to be done. Just as he did whatever it took to survive at GM, he does whatever
it takes to help others survive.
Thriftier than a Scotsman but neither selfish
nor greedy; on the contrary, he is generous to a fault. Family matters are most
important and he is respected by all.
Just as he was there when I awoke in that ambulance, one
can expect him to be there whenever there is a need. He has spent a lifetime in
“being there” for others. He is steadfast and dependable in every facet of his
life. If you have a need, ask Ted and he will do everything in his power to
solve that need.
It’s not just that he is my brother; he is a loving , caring,
compassionate human being who genuinely cares and wants to help. It is his
nature, and I am privileged that he is my brother. Love you Bud.
Teddy, Davy, Donna Kay (Spitfire) and “Little Mike”
Elvis, Nerd, Sweet Mother, Airman First Class
Where the tree kissed the car The side that it rolled on to
Ted tells his first love goodbye
Just
after my cancer surgery in North Carolina
Mr Dependable