November 21

At some point we saw Keith Green in concert in Austin, Texas.  The building was normally used for wrestling events, and they actually reinforced the canvas (with plywood, I presume) and put the piano in the ring.  Keith used the rather obvious prop as an analogy to spiritual warfare. “And in this corner…”  We were probably visiting family in Georgetown, which was fairly frequently.  On one of the trips back to the Dallas/Fort Worth area were heard a news break on the radio.  A small plane had crashed near Lindale, Texas and it was believed that all on board were dead.  Deeanne and I looked at each other.  We knew.  Keith Green was no more.

We were stunned.  Our only source of information was news from Christian radio stations.  The plane was overloaded.  There was no other way to look at it.  What was difficult was figuring out why God had allowed such a thing to happen.  Keith was gone, two of his children were gone.  An entire family of seven was gone.  And the pilot was gone.  But never underestimate the ability of the true believer to find reinforcing answers, no matter how illogical or irrational, to the questions of life.  My personal favorite was the idea that perhaps Keith was about to fall into sin and that God had ‘taken him home’ to spare the rest of us from the tragic fallout of such.  Most answers that were proposed were some variation on the ‘when life gives you lemons, make lemonade’ line of thinking.  Of course this begs the question of why God allowed the lemon in the first place.

Within a week of his death we received our pre-ordered copy of his new album Songs for the Shepherd.  I cried as I listened.  We took off on a Saturday and drove to Lindale and found the Last Days Ministries headquarters.  We drove around and found a nearby church and found the gravesite.  It still had memorial wreaths from other ministries and organizations and the dirt was still a mound.  We ‘paid our respects’ and probably prayed asking God to make us more like Keith.  I wouldn’t see that gravesite again for ten years.

Back in Georgetown my video game-playing continually made me late to work and I got fired from the Texans’ War on Drugs job.  Frankly I worked so many jobs while I lived there I have lost track of the order.  While we lived in the first house we rented I worked at a cabinet shop in Austin and then set up shop with my own business there in Georgetown.  The business went under (no surprise there) and I then drove buses for the Round Rock school district and also threw newspapers for the Austin American-Statesman.  This schedule was very difficult for me as I was getting up by 2:30AM, throwing the papers then driving to Round Rock to drive the bus.  After the morning route I had plenty of time to get a nap at home but Deeanne always seemed to need my attention or need help with the kids around the house.  By the time I finished the afternoon bus route I was exhausted.  But I never made the 8:30pm bedtime I needed either.  This lasted for a couple of months and then I started waking up in the middle of my paper route, stopped at a stop sign or in front of a convenience store, being awakened by cops or other drivers wondering if I had died.  I ended up giving up both jobs and doing other work.   I also delivered pizzas for awhile and that was actually pretty good money!  Unfortunately that job ended with a bang, literally.

I was on the way to a delivery and cut through an empty grocery store parking lot.  As I entered the next road (at about thirty-five miles per hour) a parked tractor-trailer blocked my view.  I pulled out in front of a jacked-up Ford Bronco and saw the bumper at about eye level.  I screamed like a little girl.  Fortunately it hit me at an angle near the front tire so I didn’t take a direct hit but the window shattered and covered me in glass.  It was the end of the line for the Cavalier.  While in Georgetown I also put in some time working in fast food, both for Del Taco and Hardee’s.  During the Hardee’s job we were renting a house in another part of town, an older one.  Almost every day I would get in a car I borrowed from my dad and push it down the road, popping the clutch to start it.  I think the alternator or battery were dead for about six months.  I worked the breakfast shift.  I actually did fairly well in that job but the pay was bad.

We finally ended up ‘buying’ a used mobile home.  Actually I think my father in law bought it.  Work was sporadic.  We applied for and got on food stamps.  Things deteriorated at home.  I’m sure I was not living up to Deeanne’s childhood ideal of a knight in shining armor.  The arguments were more frequent and lasted longer, and she was a bit manic about it.  She later told me she had been diagnosed as bipolar and that doesn’t surprise me in the least.

On several occasions we took David and Jonathan down to the river and me and the boys would skip stones.  Well, ok – actually, I would skip stones, but no matter how I tried to show them the boys just enjoyed throwing rocks or handfuls of pebbles into the water.  It was free, they were completely absorbed in the task, it was very good entertainment value.  Plus Deeanne was generally free to sit and watch and that seemed to calm her.  It’s one good memory I have.

Another one was watching the boys play.  Jonathan was definitely a typical kid in this regard, but David had some of my tendencies.  He would rather line toys up into perfectly straight lines or geometric shapes.  Jonathan enjoyed scattering things.

OK, now for the not-so-good memories.  The typical argument between Deeanne and myself was very one-sided.  Once she got wound up she would go totally out of control.  Most of the time I refused to apologize when I didn’t think I had done anything wrong.  Even when I had to get up early for work she couldn’t stop and would even kick me out of bed to wake me up and continue the yelling, even at one or two in the morning.  And then when I broke down and apologized, like some torture victim who had been broken, she would cry and apologize and say it was all her fault.  Finally I had had enough.  One night I could see another all-nighter coming on and I didn’t want to face it, so the second her back was turned I ran out the door, jumped in the car and drove off.  I didn’t go far, just drove around town for awhile, maybe and hour and a half at most.  When I got back home she was crying and apologizing already.  Wrong move.  Now I knew how to short circuit the whole arguing thing!  If only it was so simple.

One other thing kicks in here.  In spite of my successful argument-ending technique I still felt guilty because who would be so irresponsible to leave their family, even for a short trip, without telling them where you were going?  It seemed like a bad thing to do, and I didn’t feel good about it.  But then there is the whole all or nothing, black or white fundamentalist mindset.  So the next time I left I stayed away all night, sleeping in my car.  And since I was being a bad person, I went all the way.  I had a couple of drinks at a strip club, which was a first for both sins.  I picked up some cherry flavored filtered cigars and smoked them.  I even stole a cell phone from a car dealership.

Well, ok, I wasn’t that good of a thief so I ended up with an empty demo model.  But I tried to pick up a prostitute and trade that in for her services.  Fortunately she wasn’t into charity.  I freshened up in the bathroom the next morning and went into work.  I called Deeanne from their and we talked on the phone and I told her I would come home that night, which I did.  I think that’s when we went to counseling.

After that we started seeing a counselor.  I don’t remember going to more than two sessions, and that was mainly because he wanted to talk about both of our issues, not just mine.  Deeanne got nervous about that and decided we were doing just fine.  I should have insisted.

The next time I left I actually planned it a bit.  I packed a suitcase and snuck out the back door and threw it over the fence.  I don’t remember for sure, but I assume she must have already been on a bit of a rant.  Either way, that enabled me to bolt for the car and have some things packed without having to walk through the whole trailer with a suitcase in my hand.  It might have given away my plans.  I drove out of the mobile home park, around the corner and picked up the suitcase and took off.  I hadn’t really planned things out very well but I was free and out of control.