Phone Call From a Friend

Yesterday morning just as I was sitting down to breakfast (normally I would have been headed out the door to work, but I was an hour behind yesterday, which is a story for a separate post) I got a phone call. Honestly, at that moment I would have let most calls go to my voicemail. Breakfast time is when it is quietest in our house and I am able to sit and spend time in scripture, with my journal, and in prayer (some mornings more effectively than others depending on how fast my mind is racing with thoughts of the day to come).

Anyway, the call came from my oldest friend (the friend that I've known the longest, not Robin Sigars, who would qualify as my friend who is the oldest :)). Kurt and I go back to Junior High and have always had a connection, something in way we see the world (which to most might be a little backward, trust me my wife thinks I'm nuts). Ever since I got over him taking my spot on the baseball team right after he moved to town we've been friends. There are pictures of us shooting hoops at the house I grew up in as 8th graders while Kurt's leg was in a massive cast (from a badly broken ankle suffered in the last football game of that season). Kurt even went along with us when my parents and I traveled to Boston for the marathon. He's one of a few friends I know I could count on regardless of the situation (and the one guy I really wish had been around the day I nearly got pummeled by a bouncer from a local bar during a softball game - that's another story).

I say all of that to get to this. It was a little out of the ordinary to get a call from Kurt at 7am on a Wednesday. So I answered the phone. He just called to say hi. But as we talked I started to see what might have prompted a call on this particular occasion. He spent last weekend with some friends out on a river (if he told me which one I forgot) just having a good time. Out of nowhere they heard a commotion and discovered that a man not far from them (not part of their group) was in the water and not breathing. Kurt dove in and swam across the river and helped pull the guy back across to the shore. By the time he'd done this the guy was some combination of gray and purple - still not breathing. Kurt said he was so worn out that he couldn't do CPR on the guy, but gave instructions instead (you have to know Kurt to know how this would have gone).

They first tried to revive the guy on a raft to which Kurt said, "That ain't going to work, you've got to get him on the bank right now or he's dead!"

A few seconds later the guy started to throw-up, hence must have been trying to breath. Kurt instructed, "You've got to turn him on his side when he throws up!"

When he stopped throwing up they started to roll him onto his back again Kurt told them, "If he's breathing you leave him on his side, he's going to throw up again."

That was about as far has he got with the story. The ambulance came and Kurt didn't know whether the guy survived or not. It seems this brush with death had reminded Kurt of the importance of staying in touch with those who are important to you. It's funny how our busy schedules and high priority items can get re-arranged in just a few moments. I'm as guilty as anyone of being completely focused on what is right in front of me and missing what's going on around me. I don't tell this as a criticism of Kurt, like it took something like this happening for him to give me a call. I was challenged by the reminder not to lose touch with the people in your life just because you're "busy".

Thanks for the call Kurt. I look forward to chatting with you again soon. By the way, my wife says you need to come to Joplin and stay with us for a few days.