I reached out and took the bell from my friend and fellow St. Matthews in-the-Pines Episcopal Church parishioner, Nancy Reid, and settled in for my annual hour of standing at a red steel kettle for the Salvation Army. If you’ve never had the pleasure, it takes a little moment for you to get your groove on. To snap that little handbell just right, so the clapper raps the other side of the bell just right. Doesn’t slide around, indicating a less than perfect throw. A lifelong percussionist, the paradiddle I raised with that bell today, almost a San Francisco-cable-car-driver-kind-of-ring was medicine for me.
One o’clock sharp, I was standing in front of a place I haven’t walked into since December of last year. Our St. Matt’s parish decided to take care of this Saturday’s Salvation Army Christmas kettle site on the grocery side of the Wal-Mart Supercenter out on the 280 Bypass in Phenix City. I did the one-hour shift alone since Jill is under the weather on this, her birthday.
I, my bell and the kettle parted a human highway. Because I am a sick, twisted asshole, I started out doing what I love to do at Wal-Mart, making fun of the wacky “people of Wal-Mart” inside my head.
I’m ringing the bell. Ringa ding ding. I’m smiling. “Merry Christmas!” I’m thinking, “Nice man bun, dude.”
Ten minutes into the thing, I’m really on a roll.
Then I started making eye contact with every single person in the eastbound lane of the Wal-Mart human highway. A hispanic family came toward the door. Fluent Spanish. Three kids and two vertically-challenged parents. The stocky boy, he was about 6, I guess, and I did one of those quick “Hey, how ya doing” bobs of the head. He had a two-inch tall flattop haircut and a round, tanned face. They walked by me and through the door without stopping, my “Merry Christmas” greeting trailing off to their left like a graphic rendering of a Christmas doppler effect.
The bell I had handed to me this year was nice. It was substantial, with a nice, heavy clapper. The handle was short, but sturdy and it rang out just right.
A woman came out of the door, finished with her shopping, and pulled up next to me. We talked. Her husband had died this year and she moved down here from North Carolina to be near her children, who live in the area. “I always like to give to the Salvation Army. They do such good work,” she said, “but I don’t have any cash.”
“Why don’t you just write a big check?”
She reached into her purse, pulled out her checkbook and wrote a $200 check! I gave her a hug and we wished each other a Merry Christmas and she headed out into the sunshine.
I was beginning to feel my Christmas mojo stirring. A few years ago I had a chance meeting with John Henry Clark that ended up being my favorite Christmas gift that year. Today, it was a recently-mocked throng of everyday people at a Wal-Mart that opened my heart to Christmas.
A family of five, three of whom were physically challenged, reached into their pockets and hit the kettle. Another family came by: Two adults walked by, but their three children stopped. The little girl had a coin purse which she zipped open. She took out a few coins, looked me right in the eye and dropped then into the red kettle. The two boys reached into their jeans and did the same thing. “Merry Christmas!” This time, I’m saying it with a huge smile on my face. I could not possibly deny that feeling I had coming on. I felt just like I did at 3321 W. Britt David Road. Christmas morning, all four of us straddling a floor furnace in the central hallway of my family home. Christmas warm.
No more mocking the Wal-Marters. These were my people. We were working this thing together to raise money for folks who would really need it this Christmastime. I had so much fun. The world felt back on its tracks. No Donald Trump. No mass shooting. No one shouting. No one angry. I highly recommend this. If not this year, ring a bell another time.
More people coming out. I’m starting to recognize people I greeted on the way in. All are delivering on their promise to, “Hit you when I come out.”
Here comes the hispanic family. Little flattop boy walked over, reached into his pocket, and dropped a nickel into my palm. He looked up at me with dark chocolate eyes and I swear to God, said, “Feliz Navidad.” Sometimes a writer just gets a lucky story gift.
These are the days that make a life. Chance encounters with people who teach you something. Small gifts from big hearts. I am fully open now. My arms are out in a wide embrace of my family and friends.
It all started with a bell.
John Henry’s Special Day
Let me say right up front that it was shocking for me to see what a fat ass I am on television. And, knowing that I was going to look like a fat ass and still charging forward with this, shows just how much I wanted to make this helicopter flight happen for that sweet boy. Seeing the look on John Henry’s face when that chopper got down to treetop level was worth all the fat jokes I’m sure my friends are too nice to tell, but that I will tell on myself. I am more than happy to take one for the team.
Here’s why:
This is a story that has so many facets. This may be a long post, so just get out a box of tissues and settle in with me for a while. With the news of the re-occurrence of my kidney cancer 17 weeks ago, I have been in a state of mind that I’ve never before had to experience. The bruising pressure of knowing you have a tumor inside of the bone of your spine that could grow astoundingly fast and that you are powerless to move the practice of medicine along fast enough to get it taken out in a timely manner (at least, timely to me) is crippling.
During the 15 weeks I spent waiting for the radiosurgery at Emory, I had periods when I couldn’t concentrate. My mind would start running scenarios about possible outcomes of this cancer. One minute I could see myself healed and whole. The next, I would think about what kind of funeral I wanted. Blissfully happy one minute and lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut the next. I did all of this without medication and with a single counseling session with my good friend Stephen Muse at The Pastoral Institute. He agreed to see me, even with his huge caseload, but we agreed there wasn’t much he could do for that that I couldn’t do for myself. I was just sad. Even with my incredible wife and children, I was sad. While still having both my parents and a mother-in-law whom I love, I was sad beyond belief.
The cancer is here. I can’t do anything about it. It is incurable over 90% of the time โ an auto-immune juggernaut waiting to metastasize and take me down. This is the way you think when you know there is a malignant tumor growing hot inside of you. What a person in my condition has to do is learn to deal with the sadness. Sometimes it can happen on its own and sometimes it takes an unlikely event to snap you out of the doldrums of a cancer reality.
Then John Henry Clark came along. Bouncing up the sidewalk in his stroller on a cold Saturday morning with an enormous grin and some healing Christmas mojo that he didn’t even know he had. I got that photo. It really is special. So special that I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I kept looking at it and it moved me to tears every single time. There must be some reason this picture touched me so.
Then I heard about his love for helicopters and I knew what I needed to do. I want to thank all the law enforcement folks that made this flight happen today. These guys are the real heroes of the day.
There is much more to this story. That’s the way stories are. I needed John Henry on Saturday. Someone else needed him today. Local WRBL employee, Reggie Phillips, has also been sad during this holiday time. He lost her 24-year old son, John on February 1 of this year. He was a Down Syndrome child, too. John Henry’s thing is helicopters. John Phillips’ thing was Christmas.
Reggie called co-worker Pegi Taylor this morning and said, “I can’t get my Christmas spirit.” She is missing her son, John, and the perpetual Christmas he brought into her life. Pegi asked Reggie to meet her at South Commons this morning at 10:30. Although she didn’t know why, she braved the drizzle and stopped by John Henry’s party this morning. Seeing his joy, his smile and the unconditional love he spreads wherever he goes was just what she needed to open her heart to a Christmas without her precious son.
John Henry’s story is really a story for all of us. What is more healing than a smile, a hug, or a wave from a little blond boy wearing a badge and a crooked cap. It is impossible not to be touched by this little man with the big Christmas spirit. This has been a great day.
Now, I’ll share some great photos taken by my friends Wesley and Neely Ker-Fox, who responded to my call for help at the very last minute this morning, when we realized this flight was going to happen. Thanks, guys!
John Henry’s Getting His Wings!
Just like John “Hannibal” Smith, the “A-Team” character played on television by George Peppard, used to say: “I love it when a plan comes together.” God is giving us flying weather. The Metro Narcotics Task Force is providing a helicopter. And, John Henry Clark is giving us the spirit of Christmas!
If you’d like to watch John Henry’s chopper flight, come down to the Civic Center parking lot at the south end of Veterans Parkway between Memorial Stadium and the Civic Center at 10:30 a.m. this morning and cheer John Henry on! We’ll see you there.
Pray For Good Weather
Santa Claus is coming tomorrow for a local three-year-old. Thanks to Russell County Sheriff-Elect Heath Taylor, Russell County Sheriff Tommy Boswell, Muscogee County Sheriff John Darr, Harris County Sheriff Mike Jolley, Phenix City Police Chief Ray Smith, Columbus Police Chief Ricky Boren, Metro Columbus Narcotics Task Force Agent-in-Charge Lt. Charlie Kennedy and Columbus City Counselor-Elect Judy Thomas, three-year-old John Henry Clark is going to check something off his bucket list.
Melissa Clark, John Henry’s mom, sent me an email this morning in response to my last blog post. She said John Henry’s favorite part of Saturday’s Reindeer Run was the helicopter that brought Santa Claus to the party. She said he kept saying, “Me, Me, Me!” He wanted to fly. John Henry is a Down Syndrome child. His mom says he works hard for the things he accomplishes. I made a couple of phone calls and some really great people have said “yes” to a little boy’s Christmas wish.
Pray for no rain tomorrow. If the rain holds off, John Henry Clark will get his wish and take a ride on the Metro Columbus Narcotics Task Force whirlybird. No public funds will be spent for this ride. The Task Force is funded by drug seizure money and drug proceeds confiscated in Harris, Muscogee and Russell Counties. Sheriff Mike Jolley, Sheriff John Darr, Sheriff Tommy Boswell, Chief Ray Smith and Chief Ricky Boren oversee the Metro Narcotics Task Force.
Tomorrow morning, sometime around 10:30 a.m., John Henry and one of his parents will lift off from the Columbus Metropolitan Airport. Keep reading this blog for the rest of this wonderful Christmas story.
Thank You John Henry Clark
This is John Henry Clark. We had a serendipitous meeting this past Saturday morning on the sidewalk on Broadway in front of Country’s Barbecue.
John Henry and I both braved the cold to come out for the Reindeer Run to benefit The Children’s Miracle Network at The Medical Center. I was there to shoot photos for our publications and to support my friends at CMN.
I don’t know exactly why John Henry was there. I’m sure his mom wanted him be a part of all the hot chocolate, fake snow, colorful T-shirts, cannon fire, Santa Claus in a helicopter, running and family camaraderie. If the look on this little man’s face is any indication, he was indescribably happy to be there.
If you know John Henry, or his family, I’d like you to please get in touch with me so I can get this photo to them. I want them to have a snap shot of the moment their son gave a 57-year-old, magazine publisher, cancer survivor the spirit of Christmas.
I was walking along, shlepping my camera gear and scanning the crowd for Kodak moments when I saw John Henry coming up the sidewalk toward me being pushed in his stroller by, I’m supposing, his mom. He looked up at me, saw my big Canon camera and flash and he did three things: He threw his arms out wide like he was about to give me a big hug. He snapped them back to his chest and offered me a giant grin and โ then โ he stole my heart.
I haven’t been able to get this little guy out of my mind since I met him Saturday morning. I’m guessing from the shape of his eyes and his face that me may have some challenges. I know from the tiny amount of time I spent with him and his mom that he is loved beyond measure and is in a wonderful home. The other thing I learned from John Henry Clark is that everyone has the ability to touch someone else and make a connection with them on a spiritual level.
I needed to find my Christmas spirit. John Henry needed to have his picture made. We both got what we asked for. Thank you John Henry.