My Real Memoir
(Heads-up: this was one of the darkest experiences of my life)
My parents loved visiting their old friends JoAnne and Jack. Which left their only child Craig and me to “play” together. Craig was almost two years older, and a relentless risk-taker, so I frequently refused to follow his lead. And he considered me something of a pantywaist. Still, we hung out together because, well, what else was there to do while our parents visited?
Craig had an ardently devoted pet, a shepherd-mutt mix named Rusty, who went wherever Craig went. So when Craig headed for a nearby urban L.A. riverbed, Rusty was right at his heels.
Craig led us to a railroad trestle and climbed unhesitatingly up onto it, followed by Rusty and me. We’d barely arrived when we heard the blare of a diesel horn. A freight train was moving toward us at high speed. And then Craig dared me:
“First one to jump is a chicken!”
I was the chicken. A moment later, Craig made his victorious leap to the riverbank. But Rusty was afraid. Craig shouted, “Come on, boy!” Rusty whimpered, fearful of the drop. “Rusty, jump!” Craig yelled. But Rusty just stood there whining.
“Rusty!” Craig screamed.
And then the train struck. It hurled the frightened dog between the steel beams and onto the riverbank twenty feet below.
Craig ran to him. Rusty was panting hard, bleeding profusely, and barely conscious. Craig gently scooped him up, weeping bitterly, and carried his best friend home. I followed, crying and unable to stop my legs from shaking.
There was a vulnerability in Craig I’d never seen before—and never saw again. The veterinarian amputated Rusty’s tail and re-set his hip and leg, but infection set in and Craig’s faithful companion died a week later.
I’d like to say Craig changed after that. But he didn’t. A few years later, on a dare, he and another teenager got drunk and raced across town in a convertible. Craig died. I don’t know how I knew, but the moment his mother called our house, I knew. I didn’t know how to pray back then, but I do now, and I’m praying for each of the people involved as I write this.
Craig’s parents split up the following year. Decisions don’t occur in a vacuum, they send ripples into lives far beyond what we can see, and up close those ripples can be tidal waves. It was my first personal brush with tragedy.
I might have slipped past the panic. But a month after the incident with Craig’s dog, I had another train encounter that completed a one-two punch to my pre-adolescent psyche. Was it a precursor to the anxiety I would later experience as an adult? Maybe, I don’t know. Or maybe my brain was simply trying fear on for size. Our minds are like that. Fear is always a possibility.
But so is the overcoming of fear.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Mitch Teemley 
Pingback: Our Replacement Home | Mitch Teemley
Wow, Mitch. Just that. Wow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s sad. Kids tend to do dumb things sometimes. Their brains aren’t fully formed. This is why I say why would you want to be best friends with your kid…be a parent. You can develop a relationship, but always recognize that kids can do dumb things. It becomes less so as they age…sometimes. Reason a lot of people don’t make it to adulthood. Sadly, lost some kids out of our school as well…over summer car driving too fast, other things. It’s always devastating. More often than not preventable, but not preventable.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Sorry for your loss. Playing chicken is not wise.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow. What can I say to that. Fearfully awful enough to make anyone terribly anxious. I am so sorry for everyone involved. ?? Life does have a ripple effect. SORRY.
Get Outlook for Android ________________________________
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s just awful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow, that is one sobering story, Mitch. Wow!
LikeLiked by 2 people
This broke my heart for everyone involved. I can imagine the impact it had on you. 😥
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such tragic loss. My heart aches for all persons involved. Your closing statement about overcoming fear is not easy but through Christ is possible.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh my Mitch, how awful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
How heartbreaking. Some life lessons are so hard, but even harder are the times we don’t learn from them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree with Annie above: heartbreaking. Lord, have mercy on incognizant, heedless souls.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😢
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mitch,
I wept my way through your story that reads like a powerful parable!
Deb
LikeLiked by 2 people
This is just sad. 😥
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wish blogs had Emoji’s, Mitch. I’d hit the “like” button for the great story telling quality and then the sad Emoji for the story content. I remember reading this back a few years ago as I was traumatized by just reading it! Can’t imagine the trauma you felt. So glad you were able to face your fear and overcome.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Mary. And, yes, I did in time (I’ll write about that next week). Bless you.
LikeLike
I observe the same reckless attitudes in the motorcycle daredevils that run lights and flagrantly exceed speed limits in South Florida. I need experienced any personal loss because of their antics si wonder why I see them differently than I did many years before.
LikeLiked by 1 person
How horrible, for everyone! I can understand why it made such an impact on you…
LikeLiked by 1 person
So tragic and such a short life… True, actions do not occur in a vacuum and all our lives touch each other.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So much to learn from – thank you for sharing this moment with us and the lessons which shaped you. Most especially, hugs to you for learning to pray….and all the many you’ve lifted up since then.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Dawn.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow, Mitch, those harrowing childhood experiences that shape who we are today. What a tragic story. Yes, fear and panic are real and are a part of life. I am so thankful for my God who is my Rock and my Foundation to help me overcome these stumbling blocks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me too, Robyn.
LikeLike
This is so sad. No wonder it’s still a dark memory for you. Not many teenagers who did dangerous things came out as adults like you. Finding the way is a journey.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is indeed, Jennie.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: My Phobia | Mitch Teemley
😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh man what a story. I can see how that kind of thing would haunt a person forever. I’m sorry about your friend.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Hetty.
LikeLiked by 1 person
OMG… I would be traumatized for life! If I’d been Craig, I probably would have killed myself (literally).
Remember that fear has a purpose. Even when it seems excessive, I find there’s often something else from which that extra level saves me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s so sad, especially since those deaths were completely unnecessary and preventable.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: The Boy with Two Brains | Mitch Teemley
Pingback: The Death of a Friend | Mitch Teemley
Fear is False Emotion appearing re
LikeLiked by 1 person
Real
LikeLiked by 1 person