Those Who Can

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Do good. Be rich in good deeds. Be generous and willing to share. (1 Tim 6.18)

As I began writing this a few days ago, I was retuning from Bogota, Colombia, where for the second time in three months I had the privilege of helping deliver training to investigators from Central and South America as part of the U.S. Department of Justice’s International Criminal Investigative Training Assistance Program (ICITAP). The week prior, I was presenting at another investigations seminar closer to home. Even as I type this, I am traveling to the nation’s capital to emcee and help facilitate an International DNA and genealogy summit. Yesterday’s participation in a unique high school career and technical education event simply added to an incredibly meaningful and busy last few months. And while busier lately than I anticipated, I’m grateful for opportunities to continue serving; particularly when it involves consulting on cases or presenting, lecturing, and teaching on related subjects.

The pejorative sentiment “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” is a sort of truncated excerpt originating from George Bernard Shaw’s Man and Superman that is clearly directed at educators. Perhaps Shaw never intended it to be as offensive or ubiquitous as it has become, but I’ve lost count the number of times I’ve heard it over the years. Sadly, two former colleagues must have really liked it, because they spewed it more than anyone else. It was clearly intended to mock those, like me, whose responsibilities included the in-service education of others in our line of work. I took it all with a grain of salt, knowing it was more rooted in envy and my position firmly outside their in-group than anything else. But I still didn’t much care for it.

Even on the outside chance those using that expression don’t intend it disrespectfully, it’s hard to miss the implication that those who teach others are somehow viewed as unskilled, incompetent, or otherwise unable to perform the actual job; relegating them instead to teach about it. In most cases that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Those who can, do both!

“The safest thing for a patient is to be in the hands of a man involved in teaching medicine.” (Charles H Mayo)

My opinion, which also serves as a rebuttal of sorts to the begrudging purveyor of this lame George Bernard Shaw quip, is this: those who have the ability and opportunity to do both have also the obligation. It doesn’t end with job change or retirement, either. Even when those who can are done doing what they did, how is the next generation of doers expected to know how to do it if not taught by someone who did?  For not unlike the best and most respected military officers having often been prior enlisted members, people with job-related experience and subject matter expertise often make the best and most revered instructors. They are typically capable, engaging, and effective lecturers on their respective subjects. Of course that’s not always the case. Sometimes highly qualified and technically proficient workers are horrible public speakers and the last person you would want teaching or coaching others; like the occasional enlisted member who commissions into nothing more than a just higher ranking nincompoop. Likewise, there are a great many who have no real hands-on, practical experience related to their subject matter yet are remarkable teachers and lecturers.

Personally, I’m glad there were those before me who placed a high priority on educating others about the job, and freely did so in a way that kept my interest and successfully transferred valuable knowledge to help me do it better. Their calling was true and contributions immeasurable.

I’m certainly no professional orator, but I do embrace my love of it and consider the ability to speak, teach, and communicate information effectively among the gifts I have been blessed with. God has blessed each of us with certain gifts and abilities that align with our calling and purpose in life, and we glorify him when we respond to that call. How can I NOT respond to that call? How can I NOT perform to the best of my God-given ability at whatever I undertake, be it the doing or the teaching?

An apostle and a philosopher…

“Whatever you do, work art it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters. (Col 3.23) – Apostle Paul

“Do well what you have in hand.” – Marcus Aurelius

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it for the glory of God.” (1 Cor 10.31) – Apostle Paul

“Work long and hard; have few wants; work with your own hands; don’t meddle in others’ affairs; be unwilling to listen to slander.” – Marcus Aurelius

Rather than cheekily running others down to feel better about ourselves or deflect from our own discomfort with public speaking, maybe we should instead do everything we can to benefit others with the blessings we’ve been endowed.

Summary

People ask me all the time what I’m doing in retirement. A number of those who ask seem surprised that with rare exception, everything I do is charitable: gratis, without compensation. In other words, pro bono publico (Latin): done for the public good. I don’t say this for self-inflation…I say it because I personally feel that as long as I have the means, time, and ability, it is my responsibility and calling to use the gifts God gave me to benefit others and help make the world a better place. How selfish it would be to withhold from others the knowledge, skills, gifts, and abilities graciously and temporarily on loan to me for work here on earth for that very purpose?

Those who can, do. Those who can’t, don’t.

But those who teach, do both. Because they’re unselfish and awesome.

Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.

Make Time to Train

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“When you say you don’t have time to train, what you are really saying is that you’ve chosen not to train.” – Arnold Schwarzenegger

As I think about favorite settings and scenes from movies, those involving trains are nearly always near the top of my list. Adventure. Romance. Mystery. Intrigue. Think James Bond, Ethan Hunt, and most any Jackie Chan character in a running gunfight atop one and narrowly dodging an approaching tunnel, signal mast, or opposing locomotive as they brawl; Murder on the Orient Express, Silver Streak, Bullet Train, and practically any of the great westerns fit. Some of the zaniest Three Stooges bits were aboard trains, and the New Year’s Eve journey in 1983’s Trading Places is still a favorite scene from that comedy classic. Even Rowling’s Hogwarts Express and the animated Polar Express sate fascination.

Long before Tickle Me Elmo, Pokemon, and everything super-hero, train sets of all types were wish list toppers for many youth, perhaps due in part to their surprising detail. I’ve always been impressed at the realism and intricacy of model layouts, and enjoy discovering when a local diner still has a replica rail system circuitously routed around its upper walls. As with the hobbyist’s impressive layout, I find myself easily lost to imagination watching it complete its circuit over and over; and admittedly more disappointed than I should be when one is rendered little more than a dusty, neglected static display.

Am I the only person who still delights in watching locomotives circle the ceiling of a restaurant, rumble through town, or across the countryside? Or heartbroken there’s no longer use for a working caboose?

I credit my dad and growing up in a rail-heavy area with sparking this preoccupation. Not only did my dad once take me to visit a friend who operated a now obsolete manual switching station (pictured), he also took me and my siblings on the Amtrak from Battle Creek to Chicago! From visiting the museums to eating downtown at Wimpy’s (namesake of the mooching Popeye character who would ‘gladly pay you Tuesday for hamburger today’), a lifetime of memories were made.

So, too, a lasting draw to trains and travel on board.

Photo credit michiganrailroads.com (Charlie Whipp)

Excluding the work of porters, conductors, spies, villains, action-heroes, and mustached monocle-wearing super-sleuths, taking the train successfully reduces life to a slower pace. I don’t mean to overstate the obvious, but rail travel takes patience. Excluding commuters, if you’re in a hurry to get to there, you’re probably not planning to take a passenger train. Rail travel preloads patience through expectation management; you expect it to be leisurely and afford time and attention ordinarily devoted to driving, backseat driving, or jockeying for position on the shared armrest be given to other things. Perhaps that mental break and relaxed pace are precisely why to consider this method of travel.

Historically (and quite necessarily) on time, there’s added benefit in yielding to the compulsory predictability of the rail system’s timepiece. Even when rare delays occur along the way, programmed pauses to refuel, restock, or change crew afford abundant liberty unto an on-time arrival. In fact, I’ve often found the generous space, independence from watching the road, and freedom to move about particularly advantageous to business travel. For instance, as a senior enlisted leader I sometimes traveled by train when making unit visits. Because those trips didn’t involve me driving, bouncing around in a helicopter, or cramped on an airplane, I used time onboard to work on presentations and award packages; write commendations, performance reviews, or speeches; respond to email; review expectations and visit itinerary; catch up on reading; or even sneak a power nap.

An added bonus was a unique opportunity for informal mentoring.

As the nearest depot was usually some distance from base, I would ask that the unit choose one or two junior enlisted or company grade officers to receive me. Not only did this bless me with the opportunity to meet people I usually hadn’t met before, it also provided uninterrupted windshield time to discuss personal life, family, professional and educational goals, and gain insight into what was going right, where I could improve, and how the organization and I could best help them reach their goals.

Even business travel is a pleasure by train.

There’s a measure of comfort found in steadfast onward locomotion. No wrong turns, flat tires, road rage, or traffic signals. Notwithstanding the occasional jolt, jerk, rattle, or shake, there’s something mesmerizing about the sway and steady rumble of these diesel behemoths lumbering along their predetermined route. Proximate, yet temporarily absent a world they now spectate, riders are contained comfortably within a sort of rolling theater, where similar performances can be seen with passage through any given town: wreckers hooking wrecks, hookers catching looks, dogs walking walkers, and cops nabbing crooks. Lights, signs, signals, and lanes…how much better to be on a train?

A lot better.

Temporarily furloughed from the tyrannical spin of the clock and busyness of life, passengers enjoy an ever changing landscape. There’s freedom to spread out, move about, relax, or pay a visit to the club car where food, drinks, card games and conversations are readily available. While not always possible or necessary, a private room can add much to the overall experience which includes dining, additional privacy, a bed to sleep in, and other things impossible to enjoy by airplane, bus, or automobile. Such as kicking off your shoes for an evening glass of wine after an excellent meal in the dining car, perhaps followed by a relaxing read as dusk settles into the picturesque landscape rolling by outside; or enjoying daily quiet time while dawn breaks through the curtains and sunbeams dance gracefully across haystacks, two-tracks, and steel-roof shacks…as waking travelers, enticed by hot coffee and a fine breakfast, emerge their berths ready for another day’s travel.

Any wonder why it’s my favorite way to travel?

In his book A Gentleman in Moscow, Amor Towles’ main character astutely notes that “a man must master his circumstances or otherwise be mastered by them.” The same principle appears in Arnold’s opening quote, though contextually related to fitness: you don’t find time, you make time.

Taking time to share some lighter fare has been fun, but provided merely a glimpse into one of the truly enjoyable ways I make time to master my circumstances whenever possible. I encourage you to get on-board and see for yourself.

Make time to train.

Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.

Towles, A. (2016). A gentleman in Moscow. Penguin Books. 

Lighter Fare Coming Soon!

Admittedly, my last several articles have been a bit heavy. I’ll try to lighten things up with an interluding article soon that is perhaps a bit more enchanting or poetic at heart. So if you aren’t already, I encourage you to get caught up to You Are Enough (Part Two) before getting ‘caught up’ in the train ride coming soon. I hope you’ll be looking for it!

You Are Enough (Part Two)

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“With God’s calling comes a time of preparation, and preparation requires patience.” – David Jeremiah

I do my daily devotionals using the YouVersion Bible app, typically choosing a plan to go through the Bible in a year. This year, I chose English clergyman Nicky Gumbel’s classic Bible in One Year commentary, where each day he and wife Pippa provide insights and real-life application related to that day’s chapters. In a recent reading, Nicky paraphrased John Newton (former slave trader turned abolitionist and author of Amazing Grace), which seemed an appropriate way to start:

‘I am not what I ought to be. I am not what I wish to be. I am not what I one day will be. But, by the grace of God, I am not what I once was.’

It’s not easy to breakdown years of formulas that equal the sum of one’s thought patterns. In many ways I still struggle with the esteem issues mentioned in part one, but time has afforded a measure of clarity to some of those ‘cognitive distortions’. For instance, I’m certain one of the reasons I’m so neurotic about my appearance or bothered when my hair or nails get too long is rooted in sensitivity and embarrassment from childhood. My lifelong Schwarzenegger man-crush and near obsession with getting bigger, stronger, and faster no doubt originates from being a skinny, genetically unimpressive ‘late-bloomer’ who for years felt belittled and powerless to do anything about it. I don’t know if it hurt or helped that he once said, “We all want to look good…to stand naked in front of a mirror and be pleased with what we see. And of course, have others be pleased with what they see when they look at us.” I’ve spent decades lifting and exercising fanatically to feel good about the way I look, with or without clothes on. I was almost 50 before I got there, and it didn’t last long.

But I digress…

I’m sure at least part of my early lean toward public safety was influenced by esteem for which those in uniform were once held, followed by recognition that military and civil service provided not only structure, discipline, challenge, and esprit de corps, but also fulfilled all five of Maslow’s needs in my life at the time. I worked tirelessly at every level to be the absolute best I could be. It became a work ethic I am proud of, yet I sometimes wonder if it was approval, adoration, acceptance that subconsciously drove me? High performance and high achievement often equal borderline workaholism, and a price was sometimes paid in time I’ll never get back.

Yet there is nobility in helping the helpless and standing up for those unable to, which I’m sure my doc would also affirm was a subconscious manifestation to overcome runt status and somehow prove myself worthy.

What better way to prove oneself worthy than to try being everyone’s knight in shining armor?

But even the knight in shining armor’s sword can be double-edged. For in trying to be everything to everyone, we sometimes feel obliged to rescue those not ours to save; or lose sight of the peace and beauty of our own kingdom while admiring the deceptive splendor of someone else’s.

While everyone responds differently to stress, hurt, or injustices in life and relationships, I’ve long held a tendency to take things more personally than I should. Sometimes subconsciously using that as an impetus, I’d mix it together with an elixir of past insecurity, pain, or self-consciousness and let it culture in the warped petri dish of my mind. Once the microorganism of self-pity was incubated, it gave birth to various forms of self-affirming, self-centered acting out. And while acting out may temporarily make us feel better, there’s almost always collateral damage.

Seldom does selfishness make others feel better.

I know a thing or two because I’ve seen a thing or two. And done a thing or two. There’s something to that mid-life crisis thing. Still, the impact of boys and their toys, shoring up tender egos with an ever-growing, never-enough array of gas powered machismo is pretty innocuous. More concerning is when dispositions change: when we become increasingly abrupt, less forgiving, decreasingly tolerant, and an even bigger jackass. Especially toward loved ones.

Then there’s all that other stuff we neither wish to talk about, nor have time or space for in this episode. Yes, the flesh is indeed weak. And perhaps a more godly man would be better at controlling his thought life, ‘fleeing youthful lust’, or being more of a red light than a yield sign. Yet in the context of this article, those like me whose perceived sum total from past experience (especially concerning appearance and desirability) long equaled a probability quotient of zero, finally ringing the hi-strike bell of self-confidence at the circus of life is a powerful boost. Combine that with a string of rejections, disappointments, or unfulfilled expectations and it’s a recipe for…another article.

But our past doesn’t have to control us. Joe de Cena, founder of the Spartan Race phenomenon, says “Bitching burns between zero and zero calories per minute, so there’s no sense complaining about your hardships.” He’s right. Examine your past, acknowledge its impact or influence, and move on.

Easy for me to say. I still have trouble accepting myself as ‘enough’, and my thought life is likely to hamstring me indefinitely. But understanding in whom to find identity and properly accredit self-worth will help avoid these pitfalls.

Stop stumbling over things that are already behind you.

Here’s why: nothing we face hasn’t first been integrated into God’s plan for our life. God does, in fact, work all things together for good to those who love him (Rom. 8.28). In the very next chapter, we’re also reminded that he can (and will) do as he pleases: “Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery of noble purpose and some for common use?”

I’m definitely destined for the common use category. And I’m pretty sure I still identify as a lump of clay. But I know God is in whom to find value and meaning for my life, and he’s still molding me into the man I’m intended to be…despite my best efforts to torpedo his artistry.

Yes, I’ve been too long concerned with my physical appearance and what others think of me. God made me and accepts me as I am. Does that leave me free to let myself go? Of course not. Even though I have stopped shaving and mostly wear sweatpants in retirement, I still need to care for this vessel he’s using. I can’t be renting out a ramshackle cottage, crackhouse, or Fancy’s one room, rundown shack on the outskirts of New Orleans. I need to maintain a strong foundation; keep my windows clean to let the light shine in; and stir the bats of defective thinking out of my belfry.

I’ve wasted much time concerned with what people think of me, focused on the wrong things, or thinking I’m not enough. Nicky Gumbel suggests that dealing with the challenges we face doesn’t prevent us from doing the ministry God called us to, but perhaps that’s actually the ministry itself. So instead of attributing things in my past to my own dysfunction, I’ll try adjusting my paradigm thusly: I’m using the good, bad, and ugly of my life, career, and experience to bring me closer to God, help others, and make the world a better place.

You want to be a great leader, friend, and human? Get outside your comfort zone; own your mistakes, get over yourself, and stop deflecting or blaming others for your shortcomings. A few apologies might be good, too.

You are enough. Be confident in who you are and to whom you belong.

Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.

De Sena, Joe (2014). Spartan up. New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

https://bibleinoneyear.org/en/

You Are Enough (Part One)

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“God often spends years preparing us for what he wants us to do….don’t be impatient with yourself.” – David Jeremiah

As I continue balancing responsibilities, embracing retirement, and feeling the older I get the more time accelerates, I’ve found myself more self-reflective. There’s an abbreviation widely popular on social media for those of you nodding your heads in agreement: IYKYK (if you know you know).

Contemplation and self-reflection aren’t unusual for me…it’s pretty much what this whole motivational ministry thing is built on.  But when a number of other factors recently combined with those above, including the untimely deaths of several close friends and family in a short amount of time, it forced what I’ll call compulsory introspection.  Already feeling like the hands of my life-clock are spinning fast enough to launch an aircraft, contemplation of my own mortality naturally snuck in.  

Let’s be clear…I don’t fear death. I know where and with whom I’ll spend eternity when my time is up. But I also know it won’t be until I’ve done everything God has for me to do here. For the record, I appreciate his patience with me; if I were God, I would have smote me a long time ago.

Looking back, I cringe over how much time I’ve wasted not being the man God intended me to be; selfishness, missed opportunities, squandered blessings, ignored promptings, distractions, and probably some derailed plans. But was it really wasted time, or all part of a master plan preparing me for where I am today? It hurts my brain to try and reconcile free will with predestination. In a horribly unsuitable parity, the ‘Which came first, the chicken or the egg?’ debate might be easier to understand. Master plan or simply God working all things together for good (Rom 8.28), I know everything in my life thus far, including some bags I still need to unpack, has been preparing me for this chapter of my life story.

Looking forward, I know some of what’s left for me to do involves continuing to help others by sharing the time, energy, effort, resources, experiences, knowledge, skills, and abilities I’ve been blessed (and cursed) with. I’m especially grateful for the many new doors that have opened to me at this stage in my life, despite a few others that nearly hit me in the backside on the way out. There also remains the more difficult work of confronting things from my past that may help gain understanding about choices I’ve made, how they contributed to who I am today, and how best to use that understanding to help others and make the world a better place.

Let’s start there.

You would think being the child of a local celebrity might position you well for admiration and success. However, that isn’t necessarily true and can present its own challenges. Yes, I’ve always been proud of who my dad is and all he has accomplished. And while a sarcastic reference I once gave in a speech prompted enduring jokes about being a big deal, my dad really is a big deal. Prestige and status are rightfully granted to him. But kids can be cruel, and neither of those were necessarily afforded me or my siblings. In fact, the celebrity status of my father, while great for scoring points with teachers and other adults, was more of a target for peers.

Random elementary teacher: “Oh, is your dad THE Dave Eddy?”

Me: “Yes.”

Teacher: “How exciting that must be…and aren’t you cute!?”

Random elementary kid: “Oh, your dad’s that guy on the radio?”

Me: “Yes.”

Kid: “Who cares…you’re a punk.”

Neither did fame equal wealth in mid-market media. We weren’t destitute but we certainly weren’t rich. Compared to many of my friends at the time, we were easily identifiable on the lower end of middle-class. My dad had offers to enter larger markets. He was even featured in a national radio and television broadcasting periodical in 1968. But as a humble professional and family man, his desire to stay close to our roots outweighed more money and greater fame. I’ve always admired him for that.

Seeds Are Sown

I’m blessed well beyond what I deserve and I own every mistake and decision I’ve made, so please don’t think for a minute what follows is me jumping on the ‘blame everyone else for my troubles’ bandwagon. I’m merely pointing out that, retrospectively, I can see how certain things have influenced some of my behavior, adjustment, and self-confidence. As a child I was scrawny, squirrelly, and occasionally a little unkempt. A kind and caring person who loved us unconditionally, my mom always did her best. But she also struggled with mental health issues, battling mood disorders and depressive episodes much of her life. Accordingly, there were times my hygiene and appearance as a child betrayed her; a visible timestamp of her low points. My hair was occasionally bedraggled (I was probably ahead of my time); my nails often untrimmed; my clothes and body periodically grungy. Despite feeling like Schulz’s Pig-Pen at times, neither my friends nor their parents ever made me feel less than (also an influence on my life). It’s both amusing and sad to look back at school picture day photos and speculate about periods Mom struggled. Most years not a hair was out of place and I was outfitted deceptively snappier than our income allowed; other years I looked like one of Henson’s muppets.

Add all that to being the punk kid of a radio and television personality, and it equals a fair dose of bullying and harassment. Only now am I really diving into the impact my past had on preferences, behavior, life and career choices, and responses to other situations; the most obvious of which has been spending most of my life believing I’m not handsome enough, good enough, desirable, or strong enough…and trying in some way, every step of the way, to prove that I am.

Next time, we’ll explore some of those steps, why some turned out to be ‘landmines’, and why most were completely unnecessary.

“When we come to the end of ourselves we are left with nothing but faith.” – Don Denyes

Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.

 Miss you, Mom…<3

Happy Father’s Day!

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Wishing dads and father figures everywhere a blessed Father’s Day today. As my friend and author of the book MAN Up!, Mike Winter, recently said, “The best decision a father can make on Father’s Day is to double down on being the man God called him to be in his home so that he has the best possibility of raising godly children.”

And for those who are now without theirs, my prayer is that they simply await a sweet reunion with you in the presence of the Heavenly Father, who is always with you. “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” (Deut. 31.8)

Unlikely Heroes: When Ordinary People Do Extraordinary Things

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“There comes a special moment in everyone’s life, a moment for which that person was born. That special opportunity, when he seizes it, will fulfill his mission – a mission for which he is uniquely qualified. In that moment, he finds greatness. It is his finest hour.”

– Winston Churchill

It’s not valor that warriors are thinking of when everything goes haywire. In his book If Not Now, When?, Medal of Honor recipient Jack Jacobs asserts that “Gallantry in the midst of almost certain death is not an act of physical courage.” Rather, “It is moral courage that makes the difference…the act of doing the right thing when it is much easier to do otherwise.”

I’ve never met Jack Jacobs, but I am privileged to be acquainted with two other Medal of Honor recipients, and a couple former Prisoners of War. I’ve never heard any of these remarkable men describe themselves as heroes. Rather, each of them was notably humble despite performing extraordinarily, under devastating, intense, and deadly circumstances. In fact, neither Medal of Honor recipient I’ve talked with consider the award individual recognition. Courageously devoted to comrades and country, each say they simply did what needed to be done, insisting it represents the service and sacrifice of all involved.

Whether the physical or moral type of courage, my favorite description is that it is not the absence of fear, but the absence of self.

For instance, six security contractors went beyond expectations preventing worse disaster and saving countless lives during the attack on a State Department outpost and CIA compound in Benghazi, Libya, during which Ambassador Christopher Stevens was killed. The book 13 Hours chronicles these events.

Likewise, while many acted heroically throughout, it was Secret Service Agent Tim McCarthy who deliberately moved to shield President Ronald Reagan during a 1981 assassination attempt, taking a bullet to the stomach. President Reagan would later express his gratefulness to McCarthy for his ‘extraordinary heroism’.

Perhaps heroic actions aren’t so unexpected for those mentioned above; or any other veteran, first responder, protector, or public safety professional. But that doesn’t mean it comes easy or naturally: as Harold Wilson is quoted, “Courage is the art of being the only one who knows you’re scared to death.”

And it certainly doesn’t mean they’re the only ones courageous or selfless.

Ordinary heroes are everywhere: teachers, mentors, the compassionate, the benevolent, the humanitarian, the missionary, the caregiver, the ones who stayed when it was easier to leave, or the ones left behind to carry on.

So many unlikely heroes…

Like pilot Chesley ‘Sully’ Sullenberger, who miraculously landed his non-amphibious passenger plane in the Hudson River after losing thrust in both engines, saving all 155 people onboard. He then repeatedly walked the aisle of the sinking jetliner to ensure no one was left onboard.

And it was during a 1957 multi-state crime spree that not only lawmen, but ordinary citizens, performed heroically. For instance, Melvin Ray, a local friend of Indiana Trooper William Kellems, bravely stayed with the mortally wounded Trooper as he succumbed to gunshots wounds. Kellems and Michigan Trooper Dugald Pellot sacrificed all in the line of duty that day, and several others were wounded. But it wasn’t until Clif Edwards’ stirring book Heart Shots that many other details of that tragic day became known…including the actions of Melvin Ray.

I was honored when my friend, Greg (Trooper Pellot’s son), asked me last year to attend a memorial dedication in Scottsburg, Indiana where Kellems was killed. I had the honor of meeting Greg’s mother, Kay (Trooper Pellot’s widow), members of the Kellems family, and Melvin Ray while there. It was a privilege to participate, and stirring to watch Melvin help dedicate the very portion of roadway where he cared for his friend during his final moments. Nearly 65 years later, this unlikely hero was full of emotion as he recounted his actions that day; grateful he could provide comfort to his dying friend, and thankful others knew their beloved Trooper hadn’t died alone on the street.

Kay Pellot Anderson, Melvin Ray, Don Huffman (nephew of Trooper Kellems), Scott County Sheriff Jerry Goodin

Finally, it was a friend’s heroic actions 22 years ago that changed a family and an entire community forever.

“True heroism is remarkably sober…It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.” – Arthur Ashe

Eric Schutte and I worked together at Sajo’s, our local small-town pizzeria. We didn’t know each other well before that, but we became close the years we worked together. We hung around outside work, listened to the same music, detailed our cars similarly, and took a few trips together. One of our favorite activities was when we had to strip and wax the floors at Sajo’s. After closing, we would open the doors, blast the music, and begin our work; but not before creating ridiculously loaded pizzas for ourselves, downing unhealthy levels of fountain pop, and playing endless games of Galaga, Centipede, and Joust (using quarters of undisclosed origin). I really came to know and appreciate Eric for who he was. His work ethic was outstanding, and no-one except owners Joe and Sandy Barker knew more about running the business. Eric was incredibly intelligent, and even had the uncanny knack to correctly reconcile the till, or make any other accounting calculation for that matter, never using decimals! He was one of the nicest, humblest, unassuming, and helpful people I knew. He always thought of others. Which makes perfect sense when considering his actions February 6, 2001.

Friends began to call right away. Early headlines would read: ‘3 killed in Delton fire’, and ‘Mother, newborn, toddler die in early morning blaze’.

Awakened just before 2 a.m. to fire and smoke, Eric braved the flames to rescue his family, unable to reach everyone. He eventually scooped up two of his sons and broke a window to escape the raging fire, severely cutting himself in the process. Bleeding and badly burned, he reached a neighbor’s house with the boys.

Eric Schutte, described accurately as a man loved by everyone who knew him, would never recover.

Six days later, the headlines read: ‘Valiant dad dies from fire injuries’ and ‘Father remembered as a hero’. His then six-year-old son, Cameron, knew his dad pulled him and his brother out of the fire. He called him a hero. Everyone’s dad should be one of their heroes; Cameron and Clay’s actually is. He gave his life trying to save his family.

“What a great thing it is when the hero is found in the home.” (Rev. Matthew Smith at Eric’s funeral)

The small community rallied around the family in the months and years that followed, taking turns watching after the boys, caring for them, helping grandparents raise them.

A whole community of unlikely heroes, it seems.

Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.

Epilogue: In a time without social media and cell phones, Eric and I became somewhat disconnected after I left for the military…both a regrettable and avoidable situation. I’m thankful we still connected occasionally, and that I’ve reconnected with others over the years. I’m especially grateful to Cameron, who graciously met with me to talk about his dad, and even loaned me his collection of news articles to reference for this piece.

Left to right: Hero, author (at Sajo’s)

Ackerman-Haywood, J. (2001, February 16). Delton father remembered as a hero. Kalamazoo Gazette, A1, A2.

Edwards, C. (2021). Heart shots: The shocking true story of a dark day in the Michigan & Indiana state police. ShowMe Publishing.

Jacobs, J. & Century, D. (2008). If not now, when?: Duty and sacrifice in America’s time of need. Berkley Publishing Group. 

Kolker, K. (2001, February 6). 3 killed in Delton fire. Kalamazoo Gazette, A1, A2.

Kolker, K. (2001, February 12). Valiant dad dies from fire injuries. The Grand Rapids Press, A1, A5.

Linder, D.O. (n.d.). Timothy McCarthy: An American hero. Retrieved April 7, 2023, from https://www.famous-trials.com/johnhinckley/525-timothy-mccarthy

Sully Sullenberger. (n.d.). Biography. Retrieved April 7, 2023, from https://www.sullysullenberger.com/

United States Secret Service. (n.d.). In remembrance: Forty years since the assassination attempt
on President Reagan. Retrieved April 7, 2023, from https://www.secretservice.gov/reagan40thanniversary

Zimmerman, D. & Gresham, J. (2011). Uncommon valor: The Medal of Honor and the warriors who earned it in Afghanistan and Iraq.  St. Martin’s Griffin.

Zuckoff, M. (2014). 13 hours: The inside account of what really happened in Benghazi. Twelve.

Little Things (Part Two)

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Part One of Little Things included an example from my own life where, viewed in hindsight, seemingly insignificant, unrelated events interconnected. Unlike most so-called reality shows, they were not scripted. Neither were they happenstance. I believe what many consider coincidence is instead divine providence: God composing a beautiful symphony from the good, bad, and ugly noises we make on our instruments of free will. He may not assemble the orchestra as quickly or painlessly as we prefer, but good things take time.

Anything worth having is worth waiting for.

Not long ago a former recruit emailed me with whom I hadn’t communicated for decades (portions removed for brevity). 

“I can’t believe it has been over 20 years. Defensive Tactics was my absolute favorite class. I still remember all three of my boxing matches. After my third match, I was pretty angry and disappointed that I couldn’t get many punches in. I had taken a lot of hits and refused to be knocked down. You knew I was not happy about it and afterwards and I told you “I sucked”. You grabbed my headgear, looked me in the eyes, and told me I had done a good job. I will always remember that day. Thank you.”

“You did a good job.” Five little words I don’t even remember saying. But she remembers.

Another former recruit was recently honored for exceptional community service. It was a big deal, not just because of the award, but because it almost never happened. Several years ago, a friend contacted me after a dubious roadblock removed his niece from hiring consideration. I researched exceptions and made some calls. Little things that cost nothing but a few minutes of my time helped ensure a now decorated public servant’s dream career wasn’t derailed before it began.

Looking back, it’s gratifying to realize some of those small words and actions made a difference. I didn’t purposely say or do things over the years just so I’d have something cheeky to write about someday. Kindness and helping others is important, and while I mess up plenty, I care about people and genuinely want to make the world better.

The biblical account of a pretentious teenager sold into slavery by his jealous brothers reinforces this concept. Despite entering Egypt a lowly slave, Joseph remained faithful to God, matured, saved an entire nation from famine, and eventually became second only to Pharaoh. But only after being falsely accused, imprisoned, forgotten about, and proving himself trustworthy in lesser jobs first.

Faithfulness in little things leads to faithfulness in much.

That’s a pretty solid recipe for success: start at the bottom, prove yourself trustworthy and capable in the little things, and work your way up.

Today the inexperienced, entitled, or unqualified favorites often ascend to leadership having seldom stayed long enough to master one assignment before moving to the next. They bypass little things like developing core competence or emotional intelligence; learning to be a good team player; understanding their own need for professional development and self-improvement; or showing diligence in even the lowliest assignments.

Too many expect too much having done too few of the little things.

As the founder of Spartan Race enterprise Joe De Sena says, “Instant success imparts nothing of any real or lasting value.”1 Ignoring little things can lead to horrible bosses and systemically poor organizational leadership. It can also spell failure in areas from fitness and finances to relationships and rockets. Just ask any orthopedic surgeon, bankruptcy attorney, therapist, or NASA O-ring engineer.

There’s a reason great coaches spend time on the small stuff.

I’ve written before about incremental improvements. Babies crawl before they walk; regular walking leads to better health; progressively adding pounds in the gym increases strength; progressively losing pounds on your body helps you reach a healthy weight; spending more than you make leads to financial ruin, but saving a little each month and paying off debt leads to financial peace; a little prayer and time in God’s word each day grows faith; and faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. (Matt 17.20)

Putting little things before the big things can make the big things a little easier.

For instance, before ascending the marriage mountain, a little dating and courtship may uncover some not-so-little-idiosyncrasies that would otherwise torpedo a relationship before the honeymoon is over. Regular oil changes, proper tire pressure, tune-ups, cleaning, washing, waxing, and other preventive maintenance prolongs the life of your car and help avoid costly breakdowns. Uncle Sam’s similar important little things are known by terms like gig lines; spit and polish; inspection ready; good order and discipline; clean, dry, and serviceable; and direct orders.

Inspection ready.

It was a simple order that led Japanese Lieutenant Hiroo Onoda to wage an impracticable private jungle war for 30 years after WWII ended.2 Not realizing fighting ended soon-after, he’d been told to “hold [Lubang Island] until the Imperial Army’s return.” Onoda survived so long by doing little things well: field hygiene; uniform repairs; weapon and equipment maintenance; keeping his sword spotless using palm oil he made himself. But perhaps most important, known well by covert operators and combat veterans, were his noise and light discipline. He remained practically invisible for decades.

Even the smallest light can be seen in the thickest darkness. 

I’ve heard the glow of a cigarette at night can be seen for hundreds of yards. Fingerprints, DNA, hairs, fibers, and other microscopic evidence solve big crimes. Getting a little off-course while exploring has led to some of my best memories. Examples are limitless.

You’ve heard “Don’t sweat the small stuff, and it’s all small stuff.’ But do you really believe that?

Perhaps losing sight of the small stuff is a major contributor to our rampant discontentment. I remember throwing a tennis ball against my grandparent’s front steps for hours. I’d play entire games fielding pop-ups, line drives, and grounders. All I needed was a ball and glove. People today can’t go 10 minutes without taking a selfie or checking social media. We’re miserable. We need the next best thing, and we’re bored (or embarrassed) by simple things that once fascinated us. John Mark Comer puts it this way: “[We] have evermore everything…except happiness.”3

The issue isn’t how much we have, but what we do with it. 

David Jeremiah might sum Little Things up best: “Never underestimate the power of small actions in life. What seems like an insignificant word or action on our part may set in motion a chain of events that God uses in a mighty way.”4

Better a little with the fear of the Lord than great wealth with turmoil. Better a small serving of vegetables with love than a fattened calf with hatred. (Prov 15.16-17)

Smile, laugh, hug, and open doors for people more often.

Bring a little light to this dark world.

Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.

1 De Sena, Joe (2014). Spartan up. New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.  

2 Herzog, Werner (2021). The twilight world.  New York, NY: Penguin Press. 

3 Comer, John (2021). The ruthless elimination of hurry. Colorado Springs, CO: WaterBrook.

4 Jeremiah, David (2019).  Daily in his presence. San Diego, CA: Turning Point.

Little Things (Part One)

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Have you ever considered how much little things really matter? With a disc-jockey father, I heard a lot of music growing up. One 1950s song I remember resurged a few decades later when it became the jingle for White Cloud toilet paper: Little Things Mean A Lot. It’s tough to argue against quality rumpus roll being a pretty important little thing! Ironically, this subject is much bigger than I anticipated, requiring two parts to accommodate all my blathering.

In chapter three of his epistle, James analogues four little things that help introduce this subject, each capable of immense impact despite its size: a bit, a spark, a rudder, and the human tongue. The entire horse is turned by bit and bridle; great forests are set ablaze by a tiny spark; a wee rudder steers a massive ship. And though a small part of the body, James’ passage focuses on the tongue because of its power to both lift up or tear down, praise or curse, harm or heal. Described as “a world of evil among the parts of the body”, the tongue is capable of setting “the whole course of one’s life on fire” (v. 6).

The connotation of setting fire no doubt refers to the tongue’s destructive power; and scorched eyebrows betray those who believe words don’t hurt. Fiery furnace or not, looking back over the years, little things indeed loom large when the dots of your past are connected. Ostensibly insignificant words, incidents, decisions, choices, and (apparent) coincidences are written seamlessly into the script of your life today.

Incidental Interconnectedness

Had I not met my wife at a friend’s wedding back home, I would have probably married someone from Texas. Had we not moved back during harvest, our friend would not have hired me to drive his grain truck that season, so pregnant and jobless, we would have moved back to Fort Worth. Were money not an object, I wouldn’t have turned down a local job for work two hours away. Had I not taken that distant job when I did, I would not have met the friend who introduced me to the employer I recently retired from. But before that came to fruition, a job closer to home emerged. So good a job it was, I intended to forego my friend’s recommendation. However, were it not for a denied residency policy exception, I would never have reconsidered my friend’s introduction, nor followed him into service. Had even the slightest circumstance been different, I would have never met that friend, gained crucial insight into the hiring process, attended the same recruit school, nor served with him an entire career.

Long ago…

Maybe things viewed only in the moment aren’t so incidental after all.

Those are just the ‘big’ little things most suited to prose…I could write volumes of other incidental interconnectedness for this one area of my life, alone. Unfortunately, there’s an equally illustrative parallel series of incidents, decisions, choices, and coincidences much less flattering. For not only have little things led to a blessed career and enjoyable family life, there have also been choices and other circumstances along the way with huge and lasting implications that have hurt those close to me.

Even Small Acts of Kindness Provide Big Comfort in the Midst of Pain

In his most recent 365-day devotional, David Jeremiah retells the story of a waitress who took time to slip into a booth and chat with an elderly woman. It was the woman’s first time dining alone since the death of her husband. This waitress’s “…small act of kindness, which cost her nothing but of few moments of her time, encouraged and brightened the day of someone who was hurting.”1

To be sure, losing a loved one is in a category all its own. God doesn’t guarantee we will have trouble-free lives, nor will we always have answers to why evil prevails, the wicked prosper, or bad things happen to good people. Pain is the great equalizer, and life has a way of making sure few are overlooked.

Maybe you have been persecuted, falsely accused, conspired against, had your intentions misinterpreted, or been let down by your friends. All are painful and not such little things. But God reassures us that he is with us in our troubles, and perhaps a few little things can provide an added measure of comfort during these times.

A few small things I did recently helped me through a very trying time of feeling discouraged, unjustly persecuted, and abandoned by friends and coworkers. I didn’t ascend a mountain to visit some mystic monk, drown my sorrows in drunken stupor, speak ill of anyone, or conspire to ‘get even’. Instead, I acknowledged the pain, let go, prayed, looked for opportunities to encourage others, and chose the same few specific verses to read every day until I felt better. These ‘little things’ made a huge difference. 

Still unconvinced? Here are some other little things that mean a lot.

Getting out of bed and showing up for work every day; a positive attitude; giving compliments; gratefulness; treating people with dignity and respect despite your differences; asking people how their day is going; saying “please”, “thank you”, “I love you”, and “how can I help” more often; holding hands; writing and sending thank-you cards; leaving notes for your spouse or children wishing them a good day or welcoming them home. Research suggests a simple hug or touch may reduce stress. Personally, a hug or touch on my arm or across my shoulders provides immediate stress relief and calming effect. This is not true of everyone, especially those having experienced abuse. Know your audience, for the little thing means a lot theory applies equally to each.

Little things mean a lot. I hope you’ll stick around for Part Two!

Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.

1Jeremiah, David (2022). Moments with God. San Diego, CA: Turning Point.