Looking_Back

Looking Back Over Ten Years

January 2006

I knew better than to call this our annual Christmas letter, so I had envisioned simply calling this our Christmas or New Years letter, but then I thought that even that would imply that sometime over the last 10 years you had received a previous letter from us at this time of year. So I will simply call this a letter from the Rabenhorsts, reflecting on what has transpired this past year, and maybe over the last 10 years.

Over the last several years I thought I should write a letter like this one, but each time there was a certain inertia that prevented me. Its hard to know how far back to go. How far back will a reader endure. How far back does the story require. Five years ago, right around this time, Annie became engaged to Nick Hathaway (a truly wonderful guy). As a nurse in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) at the Univ. of MD hospital in Baltimore, Annie had to work hard to be able to schedule time off at Christmas. Nick drove down to Columbia SC (where we always celebrated Christmas with the Hudgens family at their home) to surprise her with the ring, and all the rest of her family were “in on it.” After graduating from Northwestern HS (where he had played as their #1 golfer), Daniel had moved to Columbia SC the previous June (of 2000), so he was already living in Columbia at the time. But that was in the midst of a difficult and uncertain time in his life. He was mixing a desire to pursue a career in golf with a drive to live beyond the reach and scrutiny of Judy and me. So he took a cheap apartment in the city and started working at Hickory Ridge golf course on the outskirts of West Columbia. We were a little hopeful, but mostly unsure, and rather anxious.

Taken as a whole, Daniel’s high school career (academic and athletic) had been pretty good. He had tested into the county Science and Tech school (Eleanor Roosevelt), which not only had high standards for entry, but required a full load of courses to stay there (since it was not his neighborhood school). This he did for three years amassing 6 science credits, a year of Latin, three math courses plus all the other “regulars.” As a freshman and sophomore, Daniel lettered in wrestling. He was small for his age, so he wrestled at 95 and 103 lbs, but he had a natural toughness about him. He was a fighter and at times was angry, and so he won a great many of his matches. During the early summer between his sophomore and junior years, he discovered golf. His passion was quickly kindled - but as we discovered it was a passion that would persist. He took a job on the grounds crew at a local 9 hole golf course so that he could play free golf to feed his growing habit. That Summer he worked hard and he played hard - and that may be a pretty good description of who Daniel was. He was at the course every day at 5:15 am ready to mow. Around 2:00 or so he would breeze through the house for a quick shower and a change of attire before he returned to the course with his clubs for at least 18 holes. He would then move over to the lighted driving range, often until it closed around 10pm. He worked and golfed like a fiend that Summer of his 17^th year. But when the golf season came around in his junior year, he made the team. He started as one of the alternates (#7 on the team), but by the end of the season he was a regular starter. Golf was clearly the focus, and over the following summer other priorities began to blur into the background. By the time his senior year had begun, there would be no convincing him of the importance of maintaining a full course load in order to remain at Eleanor Roosevelt HS, and our appeals to the school administration to allow him to attend half days and work half days fell on deaf ears. The hard work of his earlier HS years meant he actually only needed 1 credit of English in order to graduate. So in early October 1999, Daniel transferred to our neighborhood HS (Northwestern), to begin what I referred to as the easiest senior year on record (English, Student Aide, and two Art classes!) He would attend classes [most] mornings and work in the afternoon, except during golf season when matches were scheduled in the afternoon. He graduated with a GPA of 3.4 and was offered scholarships to attend two different colleges in NC with PGM (Professional Golf Management) programs. But in the end, he was worn out with school and studies and (despite flawless, well reasoned and compelling arguments from his old man) remained unconvinced that a college degree was necessary to pursue a career in golf. So he headed off to the warmer climes of SC to work in the golf industry and to work on his game, which is where he was that Christmas when we all rejoiced in the good news of Annie’s and Nick’s engagement.

That same summer, Annie had just finished her Junior year at the University of Maryland in Baltimore where she was studying nursing. She and I took a three week trip to Wyoming and Montana where the basic agenda was for me to fish and for Annie to draw and paint. The first day we drove to St. Louis and stayed with the Douglasses (and got a tour of Covenant Seminary). The second day we drove to Denver and stayed with Margaret Condron (a former graduate student) her husband Gaylord and her three sweet daughters Julia, Elizabeth and Annie. We camped for a few days on the ranch of Fred Kuhl’s sister Margaret and her husband Walt near Gunnison, CO, before working our way north toward Montana. At least one day on the Lamar River in Yellowstone National Park, Annie took a fly rod in her hand for a short while, but unfortunately laid it aside about an hour before the cutthroats started rising madly to a PMD hatch. The trip was great, and we learned a lot about ourselves and each other, and especially how two people that are very much alike traveling in close proximity for an extended period can begin to drive each other crazy! She and I arrived back ready for the start of the fall semester. Annie began her final year in Baltimore while to the south, Daniel was off to life on his own.

The year and a half which followed were challenging for us, even difficult. Communication across 500 miles is not easy, particularly if there is resistance. Having other family in Columbia was a huge help, and they managed to keep us informed during those times when Daniel was less forthcoming. We normally were in Columbia a couple times each year anyway, and his living there gave us additional incentive and occasion to visit. Daniel also made a couple of trips back to MD, so over those two years we probably saw him 6 or 8 times. Despite the stress of teenage years, desires for independence, struggles, successes, and failures of various sorts, our relationship and mutual love remained strong. Unabashed hugs, kisses and “I love yous” always populated our visits. His life looked a bit like a roller coaster, and our hearts were jerked up and down those hills. After the first year in SC, Daniel’s close friend Paul moved down to Columbia, and they rented a small house on the west side of the city. Our hearts took a plunge when shortly afterward, Daniel announced that he had quit his job at the golf course and that he and Paul had started working for a guy who lived down the street who ran a business cleaning office buildings. So from August through March, he spent his nights cleaning the Verizon building in downtown Columbia and he spent much of his days playing music (drums and guitar).

That was the summer of Nick and Annie’s wedding which as it turned out was just four days after our 25^th anniversary. So any possible plans for a big celebration for our 25^th were replaced with joy filled planning for their 0^th anniversary! Daniel was in the wedding party along with Nick’s siblings and other friends. It was a great event and we were pleased that many of you came. Annie and Nick took an apartment in north Laurel about 25 minutes away. Annie moved from temporary to permanent on the floor of the PICU at the Univ. of MD hospital in Baltimore, and Nick traded in his job teaching English at Suitland High School to become youth director at our church.

Living away from family, the events of September 11, 2001, seemed to shake both Daniel and Paul, and for a while they became particularly “plugged-in” to a college fellowship group. Oh how we struggle to let go of our children! We think we could spare them a 1000 hurts. But they are who they are, and they are not us! Daniel wandered through spectral lands and stared down many dark roads, mostly unaware of the hand of providence and protection that was always with him. But from time to time it broke through unmistakably even to him, as when he told me one evening he endured the taste of a gun barrel thrust into his mouth. In the perfect ordering of time and events, we arrived around Easter of 2002, just as Daniel’s truck died. We were able to help him find a reliable 9 yr old Civic, and were especially glad to learn that he was ready to hang up custodial work and get back to the business of golf. Before we left at the end of the week, he had secured a job on the greens crew of a public course on the North side of Columbia. He and Paul had also decided that the influences of their old neighborhood were not helpful, so they quit their lease, and Paul headed back to MD. Having moved most of his things into storage, for a month or two Daniel lived in a household of guys from the College Fellowship and then moved into a spare room at the Hudgens’ (his Aunt and Uncle). He continued there through the Spring and into the Summer, still riding life through peaks and valleys. We saw Daniel for a few days during the week of July 4. Our annual Summer Fellowship gathering was a Duck, NC that year, and he drove up from Columbia. It was the 25^th anniversary of the Summer Fellowship event, and everyone in our family had matching blue T-shirts for the occasion.

When Judy and I went down to visit in early August, Daniel decided to come back with us to Maryland. He quickly got a job through a friend, working at the Bethesda Row Cinema - an upscale theater that would often carry less well known films. Although the choice was unsavory to him, his wages at the cinema did not allow him to both pay rent and utilities and also pay for upkeep and insurance for his car, so he had to choose. Still desiring to be out from the folks, he and three friends rented a house in North College Park, and his car went into storage at his grandmothers house (about an hour away). His house was close to the metro station as was his place of work, so he was able to commute on the subway, and so for a while he settled in for life and work at the cinema. Of course there isn’t much golf in the winter in Maryland, so his internal tensions were kept manageable, but as the Spring thaw began to approach, his dissatisfaction with his [lack of] long term prospects and his enduring love for the links began to unsettle him. Following a tip from a friend, he interviewed for a job as a caddy at Columbia Country Club in Bethesda and began his training in March (2003). It was a perfect fit for a young man with exceptional people skills, a love for golf, and as it turned out, brilliant insight in helping people with their golf game. On March 11 our whole family was together to celebrate Daniel’s 21^st birthday. It was a fun occasion, and after dinner I toasted him and read the speech I had written for the occasion. The old man waxed long if not eloquent.

Also, in March of 2003, keenly sensing his need for a car (especially to make his commute to CCC easier than riding the subway) Daniel approached Judy and I saying that he had found someone who could cover his lease and that he would like to move back home. We were mostly glad about this, but I explained that if he were to move home, there were a few basic expectations that I would need him to follow. As he reflected on my stipulations, he explained that if he were to move home, he also had a few basic expectations. We were mainly concerned about his respect for the community of our home and he was mainly concerned about our respect for his independence, so we agreed that our mutual desire for respect should cause us to respect one another and would provide the necessary foundation to our agreeing to one another’s expectations. There were times over the next two years when we each offended, but overwhelmingly it was a great arrangement. So Daniel moved into our basement (which was unfinished but had a sink and a john and a separate entrance.) And with the money he had been saving, he registered his car and paid his insurance and began his life as a caddy. Working for Caddy Services Inc. (who provides caddies to courses all around the country - including Augusta National) he thrived in the environment. As always he took his job seriously and worked hard, and his outgoing, winsome, Childress genes served him well. The club members loved him as a caddy. It wasn’t long before a faithful clientele began to request him personally, and some would even work their tee times around his schedule. He worked hard and he played a lot of golf - the perfect recipe for Daniel. It was a very positive Summer on many fronts, and it was during that time that I began to especially enjoy our chats. On most days, after work, or after golfing, often after midnight, he would roll through and we would sit and talk for 10 minutes or an hour. I would hear the hole by hole analysis is of his game that day, or the amusing stories from caddying, or sometimes our conversations would drift to more serious matters. It became part of our standard evening fare, which I cherish.

Not quite two years after Annie and Nick were married (May 2003), just as the housing market was beginning to surge, they bought a house in our neighborhood about 6 blocks away from us (at which point I commented to Judy that we must have done a good job of giving them their space, if they were willing to move so close!) Of course we were thrilled (the thrill of which was only magnified when soon after we discovered that Annie was expecting!) It was a bit of a “fixer upper” so we charged right in with the fixing. We often enjoyed Sunday walks together, and they joined us for our Monday meals with the Brockmans. Although in the Lord’s providence this would not turn out to be an arrangement that would endure, it was rich and brought us great joy.

In late June, our annual Summer Fellowship gathering focused on the wedding of Bethany Brockman to Kelly Barnett in Jacksonville, FL. So on Thursday June 19, Judy and I, along with Annie and Nick headed south on I95 en route to the festivities. Not feeling like he could take off quite so much time from work, Daniel flew into Jacksonville to join everyone on Friday morning. The rehearsal dinner Friday night, the men’s breakfast on Saturday, the wedding and reception all were wonderful. So after a full day of celebration, the Fellowship headed to Jekyl Island, GA for a week of R&R at the beach. As was our custom, a few of us would head to the links a couple of mornings. This would include Rock, Daniel, Cary Habeggar, Steve Douglass and myself. Occasionally a couple of others would join us. My recollection was that this year was fairly typical, meaning Daniel and Steve led the pack by a substantial margin, followed by Rock and Cary, with me bringing up the rear. This was fine as I have never had any allusions of being a real golfer myself. Playing with Daniel, however was a joy (so long as you weren’t trying to compete with him) as he always made you feel like a million bucks, and his advise to me on any given round was surely worth 10 strokes. Wednesday afternoon Daniel flew back to DC, a few days before the rest of us would make the drive back north.

It was during this summer of 2003 that Daniel decided that he wanted to try his hand at college. Most of his high school friends were getting ready to begin their Senior year of college when Daniel enrolled at Anne Arundel Community College, a two year institution of good reputation about half an hour drive east of College Park. When he had been considering his options several years earlier, I explained that I was glad to help put him through school, but that he needed to be sure he was ready to apply himself (which translated meant “go to class and study”). Now if the truth be know, his desire to play on the AACC golf team as was probably at least as strong a motivation as was his desire to obtain a degree. And in fact, as he began, he wasn’t sure he wanted more than a two year degree. But being the detailed oriented, planning, keep your options open, and frugal guy that I am, I dedicated myself to the task of ensuring that whatever classes Daniel took at AACC would be fully transferable to the Univ. of MD at College Park where I have been on the faculty since 1983, (and where my dependents receive full tuition remission :)) So that August, Daniel began classes and began practicing with the AACC golf team. Generally speaking it was a good semester. We struggled to keep our hands off and noses out of most of his business as if he had been away at school, and with a light but fairly rigorous load of courses including math, English and biology, he made the deans list with three As and a B. Things were looking great – but to keep us humble.......

There were three areas of artistic expression that Daniel began to explore during his time living in SC. One was his writing of poetry. This may have been sparked in a high school English class, but began to burn more fervently during his wanderings in SC. Occasionally dark - often gray, they were the expressions of musings, questionings, and sometimes pain. The second was music. He had played the guitar some as he went through middle and high school, and while in SC he began also to play the drums. But more significant (in my assessment) was his slowly developing love affair with (listening to) classical music. I would like to take credit for this, as we tried to expose our kids to classical music as they grew up, but I really think this was something that simply grew from within himself. It was significant to me because it proved to be another bond we shared. While my own tastes were more to the baroque period and earlier, Daniel loved the classics - and especially the piano concertos and sonatas of Beethoven. From time to time as he was driving home from school listening to a classical station, I would get a phone call or a text message in the middle of the day asking “do you know this piece?” or “who is this composer?” or simply “you gotta hear this”. When he took a class in music appreciation at AACC it nourished what was already a rapidly growing love for a genre shared by few of his friends. And I soon discovered that missing CDs from my collection could often be found residing temporarily in his car. The third area was black and white photography. Whether in run-down neighborhoods of DC, or scenic natural areas, he had an eye for the interesting and the non-conventional. Another class he took at AACC in photography gave him the technical background to move this even further ahead. One of Daniel’s supervisors from Starbucks once told me “as I first got to know Daniel, I thought I had him figured out as a typical college student, but then as I hung out more with him, I began to discover things about him that surprised me - his golf, his love for classical music and his poetry. He was a surprising and gifted young man.”

As we planned for our annual trek to Columbia, SC for the Christmas break, Daniel announced that he wasn’t going down with us that year. On Christmas day as Judy and I and Annie and Nick were opening gifts and celebrating with the Hudgens family, he and his friend Paul drove to Shenandoah National Park and took an 8 mile hike up Old Rag Mountain. He had little money that Christmas, but he sent gifts for everyone. Each was a selection from his photographs, with a hand written note filled with affirmation, appreciation and encouragement.

A few days after we returned from SC, we found ourselves in a disagreement and discussion with Daniel (you can read argument) over one of our “expectations.” The following day (either new years eve or new years day) while I was out fishing, Daniel called from SC where he had driven and spent the night on his cousin Jonathan’s front porch. He informed me that rather than taking the Spring semester at AACC, he was heading for Vero Beach, Florida where he had made arrangements to caddy at an exclusive course (through a contact with Caddy Services Inc.) Not actually having enough money for gas to get all the way to Florida, he made arrangements with his former golf employer in Columbia to work a few days around the course to get enough cash to make the next leg south. Thus began what I call, Daniel’s Jack Kerouac period. He loved reading the books of Kerouac (“On the Road”, “Dharma Bums” etc) and I think was enamored of the author who depicts journeying across country by jumping trains and hitchhiking. Arriving in Vero Beach and finding the caddying a little delayed, he took a job at a convenience store/gas station. The folks running the store loved him and were glad for him to use the facilities there at the gas station to take care of personal necessities and to keep himself decent. He learned where in town he could park his car and sleep for the night without the local authorities bothering him. In time he bought a small tent, and started to spend some of his nights in a local campground. He bought a camp chair and a fishing rod at the Wal-Mart and loved to call me on a winter afternoon, to check in and to ask how the weather was in DC. And he relished my telling him we hadn’t gotten above freezing as he basked on the beach in the Florida sun, rod in hand, at a mild 77 degrees. It was at this time that our close friend Rock Brockman had a trip scheduled to Orlando. And while he was there he called Daniel and made the 100 mile drive Vero Beach, took Daniel out to dinner, and gave him a night in a real bed with a real shower at a local motel where they stayed. It was 6 or 8 weeks that Daniel stayed in Vero Beach before he began the migration back to Maryland. Time and distance allowing the reason for our parting to fade, we began afresh with new determination to stand by our agreement to each other’s stated expectations.

Not long after Daniel returned to Maryland, Aiden Cole Hathaway came into the world on March 2^nd. We rejoiced together as a family, and among my favorite pics are a few of newborn Aiden being held by his uncle Daniel. Until the birth Annie had been working diligently as a nurse, but her aspirations had always been focused on having kids. Not surprisingly, she took to motherhood like a duck to water. Watching her interact with her children gives Judy and I great joy as she exhibits wisdom, insight, patience and endurance in her love. Once she recovered from the delivery and enjoyed some maternity leave, Annie somewhat reluctantly resumed working in the PICU, but only one night per week. This she did more for financial reasons (read home mortgage) than for any drive to continue her nursing career or dissatisfaction with life at home.

Daniel had arrived from Florida as the last of the winter was passing and the spring was trying to emerge. In the first few weeks back he became certified as a caddy trainer. And so long before the golf season got seriously underway, he was getting paid to play golf and instruct caddies on the proper protocols and etiquette of the business. Early that season, he was promoted to the rank of Master Caddy, an honor belonging to a relatively few, and never before had it been applied so quickly to one so young. This bode well for his prospects and it proved to be a good and productive summer of caddying. Late that spring we finished off a room in the basement for Daniel and added a bathroom down there as well. So he was well situated and comfortable and and with a separate basement entrace (which he rarely used) had enough privacy for the long haul.

The week following July 4 we were back in Duck, NC with our regular Summer Fellowship gathering (Hudgens, Brockmans, Douglasses, Habeggars and MacAleers). Annie, Nick and Aiden were with us, and Daniel drove down midweek. We postponed our golf outings until after his arrival, and the results were again predictable. As we all headed back to DC on Saturday, Daniel left a little earlier in the afternoon than the rest of us. As he was heading W on a very crowded and fast moving I64 between Williamsburg and Richmond, a car cut him off. His quick reflexes averted what could have been a devastating multicar wreck, but in his ‘93 Civic he veered off the highway, down a bank an into a guard rail. He suffered no serious injury, but his car was totaled. To keep his insurance payments manageable, he carried only liability, so his loss was complete. I headed west for two weeks fishing in Montana, and while there I determined that one day Daniel should join me to see the splendor of the Rocky Mountains and to fish together along great trout water. Maybe next year.

Daniel continued to work hard and began immediately to save hard. Having most of what he needed by Aug 6 he bought a ‘96 Civic from a contact at work. The next morning, Aug 7 2004, on my 28^th wedding anniversary, I rose early to go buy flowers for the bride of my youth. But as I stepped from my front door on that sunny August morning I was perplexed by the absence of my ‘96 Accord. Most horrifying to Daniel was that his golf clubs (as well as mine) were in the trunk of the car. Within 24 hrs I would get a call from the Mt. Ranier police saying that the car was found wrapped around a telephone pole a few miles down the road, the kids who stole it having slipped away. The car was totaled, but the clubs were safely retrieved from the vehicle! Then in a classic role reversal, I found myself over the next couple of weeks asking Daniel if I could borrow his car!

That summer brought challenges to our family. Nick had already been taking some courses from Covenant Seminary through their access program, but a number of circumstances seemed to point clearly to the conclusion that he and Annie (and Aiden :( ) should move to St. Louis so that he could enroll full time at the seminary. That July, after much prayer and discussion at the Fellowship gathering, hardly more than a year after buying their house and moving only a few blocks away, they put their house on the market. With the help of Phil Douglass, Nick was admitted to the M.Div. program. Confident of the Lord’s leading, yet with heavy hearts, we prayed for a quick sell of their house. Within a few short weeks they had a contract for more than the asking price, and had also received word that they could rent one of the seminary-managed (read cheap) two-bedroom apartments there in St. Louis. Things fell into place so quickly and well that the Lord’s hand was unmistakable. So, on August 24, 2004 we headed west. Nick and I drove the rental truck, while Annie, Judy and Aiden came in the Mazda. We enjoyed a couple of nights of the Douglass’ warm hospitality while we painted and prepped the apartment. When it came to unloading the truck, no fewer than 8 or 10 seminarians from the apartment complex showed up at the appointed time and made fast work (less than two hours) of what otherwise would have been a grueling job. It was a tiring week, but as we prepared to fly home five days after our drive to St. Louis, our dear ones were snug in their new home and ready to begin their new life as a seminary family. Within a few weeks Nick had a job working the graveyard shift at UPS. He has since been promoted to be a supervisor and basically works from 2:30 to 8:30 am M-F. He spends his days in class or studying and goes to bed along with his 1 year old so he can be up and off for work. Needless to say, they enjoy their precious weekends. They moved from six blocks away to nearly 900 miles - our dear ones Annie, Nick and Aiden. One rich blessing was that Annie’s aunt and uncle, Jacque and Lance Hudgens, moved from Columbia, SC to St. Louis within a week of Annie and Nick, where Lance joined the pastoral staff of Central Presbyterian Church. So while we remain 900 miles away, the Lord has placed only 15 minutes from Annie’s family those who were like her second parents. Annie and Nick are often at the Hudgens for lunch on Sunday after church, so while we miss them terribly, we are again comforted that they are together and that J&L have made themselves so available. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

As the fall approached Daniel enrolled in classes at AACC and began again to practice with the golf team. The end of his second semester again found him on the Dean’s list with a 3.7 GPA. As the fairways turned brown with the coming winter, he was forced to think about finding a job that would keep him in green until the greens would begin again to green. And he needed also to consider that turning 23 in March, he had only one more year to be covered under my health plan. He landed at the Starbucks on Route 1 about three miles up the road. He started just before Christmas and continued through the spring. Again his people skills served him well, both among the employees and the clientele. By the testimony of those who worked with him, he kept things fun and lively. In observing his interactions with customers, he always had an upbeat and cheerful word. And working 20 hrs/wk opened the way to full health benefits. While not golf, it was clearly the Lord’s provision which suited him well, and the free pound of coffee that he brought home each week suited his father well.

For the last couple of years, on the second Saturday evening of every month, I have gathered with Rock Brockman and a handful of other men for Athenaeum. This is our book club (recently written up in the Washington Post Dec 18, 2005; ) that meets at one of the local bars (where by virtue of the founding rules of the club, they must serve good beer and permit the smoking of pipes and cigars). The books we select to read (by majority vote) are supposed to be of “enduring literary value” or of “cultural or historical significance.” At Daniel’s suggestion I nominated Jack Kerouac’s Dharma Bums, and it was selected for our January 2005 read. So when we met on January 8 at the 94^th Aerosquadron, Daniel came and spent most of the evening with a group of men that were mostly 15 to 30 years older, discussing Buddhism, hitchhiking, the “beat generation” and the merits of Port wine.

Although the lure of another winter in Florida had its pull, Daniel managed to satisfy this with a one week trip (Christmas gift from Mom and Dad) to visit friends in Orlando and Naples just before the spring term began at AACC. As winter began to grade into spring, his full schedule got busier. In addition to his studies, he continued to work at Starbucks, began to train caddies at CCC and he began, of course, to play with the golf team. By the time April rolled around, he was playing two matches per week. By midway through the semester, the 30 minute commute to Annapolis was beginning to grow old. It was then that he began seriously to think about transferring to the Univ. of MD in College Park (a 25 minute commute on foot!) Along with this came a conscious decision on his part to seek a bachelors degree in Kinesiology Science. So he applied and was accepted to start at UMCP in the fall (pending successful completion of the spring term).

Nick’s school and job at UPS had him bound tightly to St. Louis, but Annie wishing to visit family and friends back in Maryland, flew into Baltimore in time for us to celebrate Aiden’s 1^st birthday and was able to stay long enough to celebrate Daniel’s 23^rd (on March 11). We have some great pics documenting this wonderful visit.

Daniel had a third consecutive semester on the Dean’s list and at that time had a cumulative GPA of 3.7. As we talked about the summer and began to make plans, he had decided to join me for the first week of my two week fishing trip to Montana in July. So we bought tickets to fly to Bozeman on July 5. He had a good golf season and won most of his matches. But he had a disappointing finish at the regionals and returned from New York on Tuesday May 10 discouraged about his swing and what he considered the bad state of his game.

Daniel’s cousin Kristin Hudgens had become engaged to Frank Cason over the winter and was getting married on Saturday (the 14^th). We had all planned to attend. Annie and her 14 month old Aiden were flying in and were driving down with us. Daniel had a ticket to fly down on the morning of the 14^th, but the caddying at CCC was a little tense. The golf season with AACC had required Daniel to miss a number of caddying days, including the previous couple of weekends. And although he had mentioned in advance the upcoming wedding and his need to miss the work to attend, his boss was not pleased. At the end of the previous year there had been an incident which had created serious stress in this particular relationship and although things had largely settled down, the prospects of Daniel’s missing yet another weekend seemed to threaten to unsettle the peace. So after careful consideration, we concluded that he should forgo the wedding and stay home to work instead. So on Thursday morning, Judy and I along with Annie and Aiden headed off to Columbia for the wedding.

After wallowing briefly in the disappointment of his performance at the regional tournament, Daniel decided to address the situation. He was an especially gifted golf instructor. He had the ability to watch a person’s swing and to be able, not only to see what was wrong, but more importantly to be able to explain to the person how they could correct it. He helped me many times as he and I golfed together during the last few years. And I have heard numerous testimonies from others saying the same thing. So I was not surprised when he and his friend Lyle borrowed our video camera and headed to the driving range to record and study their swings. On Wednesday evening he told me that as he watched the video, he could see six different things that he was doing wrong, and he could hardly wait to get out on the course on Thursday to begin to work on them. Unknowingly, we said our last ever good byes that night with hugs and kisses and the promise to call, and Judy, Annie, Aiden and I headed down the road to Columbia early Thursday morning. Early in the afternoon, as we were cruising along I20, I got a text message from Daniel who had apparently been back to the driving range saying “right now I’m hitting the ball better than I have in my life.” The golf physician had indeed healed himself! When I enquired if he had told his boss he would be in to work Saturday, he said the boss was pleased and that he already had a loop lined up for 11 am Saturday. Later on in the afternoon as he was about to tee off, he text messaged again asking if we had arrived safely. An hour later out on the course, after apparently working into his swing and game all his self diagnosed remedies, his emotions swinging from the valley to the mountain, he playfully sent me the text message “I am Tiger Woods!” So in May of 2005, at the age of 23, as a master caddy, having been accepted to the Univ. of MD, and now at the peak of his golf game, Daniel was feeling on top of life.

On Friday, as various preparations were going on for the wedding in SC, Daniel played golf all day at the Univ. of MD course – two full rounds, both in the 70's. Feeling great about all of life, they continued to party hard in downtown College Park through the night and into the wee hours. Although he knew how to party, he knew how to work. One of the lines Daniel and I often quoted from a River Runs Through It (our family cult movie) was “there are three things you are never late for - church, work and fishing”. And so, as Daniel crashed at Lyle’s house (a few blocks from our own) early that Saturday morning (about 4 am) it was undoubtedly with the intention of being at CCC in time to carry the 11 am loop he had scheduled.

In SC everything was moving forward toward the 6:00 pm wedding. Around 8:00am I sent Daniel a text message just checking in, but heard nothing back. I didn’t think much about it and figured he was still sleeping. Later in the morning, “the men” gathered down at the Cason farm to shoot skeet and eat a lunch of ribs and trimmings, while the bridesmaids and other women enjoyed a brunch at Kristin’s house. It was a beautiful warm spring day, still full of promise, and joyful at the prospect of the wedding. At 4:00 pm we were back getting dressed when the calls came. We were to be at the church by 5:00. First was a message from Rock Brockman saying that the University Park Police were trying to get hold of us. Then came the conversation with Chief Wynnyk of the UP police force. Shock. Pain. Horror. Disbelief. Tears.

What do we do? Who do we call? What do we say? There are hundreds of people gathering for a glorious joyful event. We and they are preparing to worship God for some of the richest of His blessings. Our closest family are in the midst of elation. The ceremony and the celebrations are an hour away. Months of prayer and preparation have gone to make this a happy and wonderful event. Our hearts are broken. Our spirits are crushed. The world has been pulled out from under us. We love these living. How do we love them well? In the fog and darkness one vision emerges clearly - our love for our dear one, must not destroy the joy of these others whom we hold dear. But we do not think we can bear this alone. How can we get through the next several hours. We can’t miss the wedding. The ones from whom we need love and support will all be there.

Our decision was to call Judy’s brother Phil and her sister Karen, who in God’s providence came for the wedding. They wept with us and prayed for us and buoyed us up so that we could make it through the wedding and the reception. God is so good. His ways are so perfect. Also gathered among the celebrants at the wedding were some of our dearest friends from around the country - the Brockmans, the Douglasses, the Habeggars, the MacAleers with whom we vacation and fellowship every summer. As the reception began to wind down, we asked these friends to stop by the house where we were staying so we could share something, and our eyes and hearts conveyed our need. They came – and let their hearts break with us. They wept with us and loved us. They prayed for us when we could scarcely pray, and carried us through that dark night.

We knew we must depart early the next morning, and so we knew that we must break the news to Lance and Jacque Hudgens. We needed them to know, for their children were like ours, and ours theirs. So late in the evening as they returned home from their daughters wedding reception, we called and they came over. So again we wept and prayed hugged and grieved. So, on what would be the most difficult day of our 29 years together, the Lord in His kindness had wisely and tenderly gathered in advance from around the country those who knew us best, to surround us with love and prayer and hugs and tears and words, and no words, to preserve our hearts from being swept away by this raging torrent of grief and numbness. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

The days that followed were numb though calm. The outpouring of love was remarkable. The outpouring of prayer was sustaining and comforting. Judy and I commented many times that we were doing much better than we should have been. So many friends stepped up to help in so many ways. From among our church and from among our neighborhood, there were hundreds of offers to help in anyway needed. Close friends and relatives arrived from out of town. Wednesday afternoon we opened our home for folks to come by and visit, to share our grief and to share their love and their remembrances of Daniel. Over 400 people came through – from church, from the neighborhood, from Columbia Country Club, from Starbucks, from who knows where. Some were our friends and others were Daniel’s. Most we knew, but others we knew only by name. Some we met for the first time. We enjoyed (and continue to enjoy) people telling stories and sharing remembrances of Daniel. It was wonderful. It was terrible. It was unbelievable.

Friday afternoon among close friends and family we gathered at the grave side to worship God midst storm and tempest winds to comfort one another as we said good bye to that jar of clay, that vacant vessel, recently a vibrant young man. A wild woodland spray of shrubs, flowers and boughs thoughtfully arranged and adorning the casket was blown off by one violent gust. Amid the rain we sang, and prayed and heard the Word of God. It were as if creation itself wept with us.

Our congregation (Wallace Presbyterian) has been meeting in a school for the last two years while we are developing a new site, so a church in the neighborhood two blocks away from home allowed us to hold the memorial service there. Five hundred people packed into the sanctuary, and another two hundred were in the overflow room downstairs. It was a diverse aggregation of people whose lives had intersected Daniel’s. So many of our friends were there, and so many of Daniel’s friends also. For some the worship of God was familiar and comforting, but for many it was undoubtedly foreign - though I hope and pray it was also comforting and thought provoking. Several people spoke, including Annie and myself.

Days have become weeks, have become months. On my family prayer list, my daily reminder says “Praise for God’s mercy in delivering Daniel from all his trials.” Only by God’s grace to us, have we not been driven to question His wisdom, or his mercy and love to us or to Daniel. In our minds, I think we are at peace. But a day does not go by that we do not miss him. His smile, his laugh, hugs and kisses, golf commentary, starbucks commentary, political commentary, music commentary, fishing commentary, words of encouragement and affirmation, all to give and to receive, we miss them every day.

I decided to take the trip that Daniel and I had been planning. So having shipped Judy off to visit Annie and family in St. Louis, on July 5^th I flew into Bozeman, MT and hooked up with a couple of friends for two weeks of trout fishing, mostly along the Madison, but also along the Beaverhead, the Ruby and the Missouri. Our typical routine was to rise about 7:00 am cook breakfast and clean up; 9:00-10:30 tie flies to match insects observed the day before; 11:00 - 5:00 pm fish; 5:00-6:00 cold brew at the tailgate with sandwiches from items in the cooler; 6:00 - 10:00 fish; 11:00 - midnight, cold brew at the campsite reflecting on the events of the day; then repeat for two weeks. Noting the intensity of the schedule and the absence of activities not related to angling, my friend Mark likes to explain to people that these outings are not “vacations”, but rather “fishing trips.” Often I found myself wishing Daniel were there to see the Rockies and to share this experience. As I mused and grieved and missed him, I also thought upon the passage “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared......” .... And I think these mountains and rivers are great - won’t he have a thing or two to show me! And I was comforted.

On October 21^st our granddaughter Sophia Childress Hathaway was born to Annie and Nick in St. Louis. As Annie had broken her tailbone during her delivery of Aiden in March 2004 from which she had still not fully recovered, she had a C-section scheduled for the 21^st (unless Sophie were to decide to arrive earlier.) So Judy had her flight scheduled to arrive the afternoon of the 20^th after which she stayed two weeks. I flew out to join them over a long Halloween weekend to become acquainted with this new baby girl. Both she and her big brother Aiden, and of course Annie and Nick as well, have been a source of great joy for us. Even as I am writing the last of this long diatribe, we are finishing up two weeks in St. Louis where we have been visiting them and also with the Hudgens and also Judy’s other sister Karen who had been here this last week.

As Judy and I reflect upon this past year, we find the verses of Eccl 3 resonating in our ears.

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

We have weathered many seasons this year. And as we begin each new day we are not sure which seasons await us. Usually there are many. The pictures, the rooms, the spaces, the memories, bring us occasions to weep and to laugh, to mourn and to dance.

Among the Christmas readings this season, my heart has found rest in Luke 1:78-79

.... because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.

May the name of the Lord be praised.

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