Hey, Joe, how you doin’?” I patted him on the shoulder as I took the barstool next to his. Looking up from his drink, I could see he was not doing any better. “Hey, John.” He said sadly. Seemingly with nothing more to say. As I ordered a drink, I watched him in the mirror over the bar, this guy who had always been ‘Mr. Happy’ now looked beyond sad. He looked like a man waiting to die.
Joe Peterson and I had met years before when I was sent out of the union hall to work on the crusher conveyor tunnel at the Tilden Iron ore Mine, in National Mine, Michigan. Joe was the foreman of a crew everyone called the ‘tunnel rats’. Most of these guys traveled together working tunnels all over the country and knew the ins and outs of placing rebar from the constraints of working within a tunnel. I did not. But Joe was a good teacher and a good boss. We became friends. Even after the job was done and the ‘rats’ moved on to the next tunnel, we stayed in touch for a while, then life moved on.
Now over ten years later we had met up in Utah. Joe was now a big boss for a company that erected silos and my company had landed a contract with them to install the rebar on a ‘six pack’ silo outside Ogden, Utah. Neither of us thought it weird running across one another hundreds of miles from where we had met, that was part of being a ‘boomer’ in the construction trades. You were sure to meet people you worked with down the road, if you stayed alive long enough.
The thing was, Joe was different now. That once happy-go-lucky guy who used to tell some of the worst jokes I had ever heard now was silent most of the time. He, like myself, drank a lot. But unlike me, Joe had never been a drinker. And the way he drank now scared even me, a professional drunk. He drank with deadly seriousness and I was always surprised when I would see him on the job the next day. I was sure one night he would drive that big pick-up of his into oncoming traffic, but so far, he hadn’t. Yep, Joe was a different man since his son had died.
From everything I could gather, Joe’s boy had been a ‘knock off the old block’, as we used to say. A lot like his old man. From the time he was a baby happy and full of life and laughter. Joe and his wife had just the one son and he was the center of that family. I guess, about three years ago Little Joe, that was what he was called, caught a cold or so it seemed at first. But the symptoms never went away and after a month they took the boy to the doctor. It shocked both of them when they found out he had Leukemia, and nothing seemed to stop its progress. Within two years, Little Joe had succumb, and big Joe was changed forever. Never a man of faith now he found no solace anywhere. His marriage destroyed by grieve. He now seemed to be a man who lived to die.
As I sit writing this today, I am sad remembering those days being around Joe. We drank together often. Most of the time sitting in silence, I really had nothing to offer him except a warm body on the barstool next to his. The unpalatable grieve he had was untouchable or, so I thought. Then the miracle happened. One day Joe was not at the bar and he was not on the job the next day or the day after that.
I asked around his company office, but no one was speaking. I hit all the bars where we frequented but no luck there either. I watched the papers to see if his name would come up in the Obits but nothing. Joe had disappeared! Till about two months later, I heard something I could not believe, Joe had been in a rehab unit and even more unbelievable he had been ‘born again’.
Joe, a Christian? I shook my head when I heard it, “No way!” I had said to the bartender who gave me the scoop. How could that be? I still did not believe it, until a week later on the job, there he was. Joe was back and all I had heard was true. Sober and if not happy-go-lucky, there was a new something, hmmm, the only word to describe it was joy. One day after a safety meeting in his company trailer he approached me, “How you been, John? Sorry I dropped out of sight but here is what happened…” He went on to tell me a story about transformation.
Out of desperation he had gone to an AA meeting at a local church, there he had met a man, a recovering alcoholic, who just happened to be the pastor of that church. They talked for a bit after the meeting, no big deal. But soon this pastor was seeking Joe out, finding out his number, calling him and just caring in a way that was loving. Joe at first was bothered and angry but soon was looking forward to meeting with his new pastor friend. Simple conversations led to Joe’s own recovery and a changed life.
I don’t usually share other people’s testimonies here, but I know Joe would not mind, if he was still with us. He passed away about seven years ago, but not from suicide, a life ending illness. The last time we had talked, I had visited him in a Northern California hospital. Retired from the construction trade, he had spent his last years working with those who had lost children as a Christian grieve counselor.
From total despair to a life well lived and filled with hope, Joe shared his favorite verse from God’s Word with me that day, “The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17). It is this verse which I read this morning during my time in the word of God that brought me back to Joe’s bedside. Remembering how we laughed together, two recovered and saved men. His jokes were as bad as they had ever been but his last words as I was leaving the room, still stay in my heart, “Don’t choose despair over hope ever. I know for certain, my son, you, and I will live in a place a lot better than this. What jokes we will tell then!” I remembered his words and that hope when I dealt with my own wife’s passing. And I have tried to live by his example and that of the pastor who be-friended him. If we simply offer the love of Jesus to a wounded person, if we know the God who loves us so much he is singing over us, we will find so much more to laugh about. It is my turn and it is yours today. Thanks Joe for showing me the way!
Blessings and Happy Sabbath,
John
9/28/18
