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Johnny Angel's Commentary | Past Commentaries |
Notes from a Native Son
It's Crunch Time “I you bring forth what is within you, Have you ever heard of the phrase “crunch time?” If so it’s probably related to the point in a basketball or football game when the tide must turn in order for a particular team to win. Or maybe it’s familiar in a job situation when you are running out of time to complete a task. Either way crunch time is this: no time to waste, it’s time to be about what to be about, no if, ands, or buts about it. In real life, brothers and sisters, it’s crunch time. This past Sunday was the nationally declared Mother’s Day. My children, my brother, my nephew, and I had returned from the mall about mid afternoon. We went to my mother’s house to discover she had gone to a surprise lunch. While we waited for her, the children went outside to play. A good conversation about life started between my brother and I. Soon sleep took us both. My afternoon snooze was blown apart by my daughter’s frantic voice screaming that the dog had attacked her cousin, my nephew. I ran right out of my sleep. Before I knew it I was outside with the scruff of the dog’s oversized neck in my grip. It was nearly the size of my waist. He squirmed as I punched him a few times then he submitted. In truth he probably didn’t even feel it in his excitement. It was all a blur. The neighbors had come from across before we got out there and at that time I made eye contact with one and he simply said, “He had him cuz!” That’s all I remember. Not even sure when they left. My usually calm but now rattled nephew was huddled on the hood of my mother’s car, both hands wrapped around his ankle. Foreign moans came through him mixed in with the calling of my name. His bare foot was punctured in several places that I could see. Thick dark blood poured out onto the car, crawling toward me. Usually the site of blood is like Kryptonite for me. Not in a situation like this. It was crunch time. My brother’s voice came through from somewhere that seemed far away. “I’m takin’ him to the hospital”, He said. I agreed in my mind but my voice was directed to my nephew as I asked him was he alright. My brother handed me a handful of towels while he wrapped some around my nephews feet. Then he lifted my nephew from the hood and walk toward his truck. The long streaks and splotches of blood stared back at me. Reality mixed with unbelief is an intoxicating concoction. This time it was my children’s voices that came through. My daughter said she was going to ride to the hospital to help them out. My son said he was staying with me. Things fell in place. She hopped in the car and they left. We stayed behind and got things together. All the while I was desperately trying to call my sisters and mother, my son was on the phone calling whoever I wasn’t. I needed to ask my mother where she’d moved the leashed. I admit to being more than annoyed when they were not answering their phones and the fact that the leash and collar were not where I had seen them last. Not my son, he was calm as he continued to try on his phone. Finally he screamed, “I got her”. I took the phone and talked to my sister, they were on their way to the hospital. Then he erupted again as he pulled the leash and collar from a pile of stuff. We got the dog collared and tied, cleaned up the car and left. I didn’t want my mother to come home, see all that blood and have a nervous breakdown. It was a lot of blood. As we rode to the hospital we talked about the incident and what I thought might happen. He responded like a seasoned man in control, although he had been in the midst of the melee. I had to look over at him to make sure that this was my little buddy, as I call him some time. It was him, the essence of the years invested illuminating and lighting the way. In my haste I passed the street to the ER. In fact I wasn’t quite sure which part they’d gone to. Immediately he was on the phone and soon had the answer. He spotted the sign that I’d missed. While we walked down the sidewalk, I noticed that his strides were almost matching mine. A warm sense of comfort engulfed me even though my nerves were standing up like the hallelujah choir. When we got into the ER, everyone else was there. My daughter came over and they changed places. She took her place at my side and my son went to the room with my nephew. How had they known to do this? It was perfection of action coming into play. They were in peak form. We were there for quite some time. Finally, hours later, we had to leave so that I could get them back to Tennessee. The ride back was more quiet than usual. There was something satisfying in the air that I could not quite put my finger on, but my heart was filled with it. On my trip back home alone, I played the scene over in my head and realized that my children had come through in a major way. My mother called and we talked about how they had reacted, how they had done all the right things, and in good time. They had tried to subdue the dog but he was just too big. It’s actually bigger than my son. At the time my daughter, almost in a panic she told me later, came in to get me, my son had grabbed a car wash brush pole and wedged it in the dog’s mouth. I found out that by the time the neighbors had come they’d pretty much gotten it together. My son was a little bothered that the neighbors did not react sooner. A lot of factors were at play and I explained to him that in a situation like that blame doesn’t help resolution. When I got back into town I called them and told them how proud I was. Everybody was talking about how they’d worked and handled the situation superbly under some hair raising conditions. Words cannot express how I felt, humbled, proud, somewhat numb, and the list could go on but never reaching the fullness of the feeling that cloaked me. Children are children, and sometimes we wonder if the things that we spend time instilling in them even takes root. They act silly sometimes when you think they should be serious and seem to be far away when you think they should be attentive. I’ve instructed them in reference to situations like that but of course no mishap follows patterns and forms. Still they came through, above and beyond what had been taught directly. Their own learning, experiences from life, and acceptance of divine guidance had given them the wherewithal to fill in the gaps. They came though with flying colors in crunch time. As Americans at this juncture in our journey, we are at a point when the tide must turn. People are hurting in a major way, and their very lifeblood is being spilled against a looming backdrop of seeming indifference. Change must come. We are nearing the brink. Join me next time and we’ll talk about where we must go from here. Hit me by e-mail and let’s do this thing – it’s crunch time. |
In Notes from a Native Son, each week I will share views with you based upon opinions and facts on things that affect us on this American landscape. You ultimately determine what you will believe or disbelieve, do or not do. Where you stand on an issue depends on where you are sitting.