WhiteFlag discussed gun violence on Tuesday, August 8, 2019. We ended with a letter my dad wrote to capture an incredible event in the workplace.
October 31, 2018 (Brad)
Josh had been doing very well as my replacement as sales manager at Transportation Products, Inc (TPI). In many respects I thought he was doing a better job than I did. He was putting to good use his 15 years of manufacturing experience at TPI and refused to sell windows that were tough to build, not hesitating to tell small customers the windows they had been buying are obsolete, and moving them into mainstream models. Sometimes bordered on being an ass, but sales didn’t suffer and it greatly simplified things for a young unmotivated Conecuh county Alabama workforce.
Our time together as I trained him turned us into work buddies. I knew he had a quick temper but never realized the problems he was facing. After a year and a half into the job it culminated with an explosion in his Dad’s office….(his daddy’s office…for this is the Deep South and that’s the vernacular used…. always sounded very immature to me, but I continually hear it from men of all ages) Jason, the company President was in the office as well, the only voice of reason I overheard. The explosion really elevated and I was wondering what the hell had happened. It culminated with Josh screaming “I quit, all I ever wanted was to feel loved” followed by threats to kill them…Josh left the building yelling and slamming everything as he hit the door.
A minute or so later his brother Brent came running into the office shouting “Josh is in his truck with a gun and shaking something awful.”
As I walked down the hall to go check on Josh, I nervously smiled to myself with a quick prayer…Lord, I’ve often joked about being bullet proof since the installation of a defibrillator in my chest, I pray that isn’t tested today.
Approaching Josh’s converted low rider pickup, he held a pistol under his chin and was shaking uncontrollably. Not remembering all the details, I cautiously neared his truck and said something trying to soothe him. He responded, “step back, I don’t want to get this mess all over your clothes”. I was at a complete loss what to say, and silently asked God for guidance. Josh mumbled, “I really fucked up this time”. He kept repeating it while he slowly rocked in his driver’s seat, still shaking. I objected with something like, “Josh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but nothing is unfixable”. He was adamant it couldn’t be fixed. “Josh, God loves you and it’s no problem for him to fix if you let him.” I reached thru the open door of the truck and put my hand on his shoulder and kept saying “Jesus loves you” because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Still shaking he lowered his pistol somewhat, but his shaking kept it waving around. He asked me to get his cell phone off his desk so he could call his son. I asked for his gun but he ignored my request. He assured me he would stay in the truck. I went to his office and got the phone. As I returned less than a minute later, I noticed a gun clip on the ground below the step sill of the truck. I fumbled the exchange when handing Josh the phone, dropping it on the floor of the pickup. As I bent down to retrieve the phone, I picked up the gun clip with my off hand and slipped it into my pocket. Josh was still shaking violently and couldn’t press the right keys to make the call. I was grateful not thinking it was a good idea anyway, and thankful he didn’t ask me to make the call.
With the gun clip secured in my pocket, I was a little more bold in my movements around Josh. When the waving of the pistol pointed in my direction I’d ask him to watch where he pointed it. I again put my hand on his shoulder and repeated he was going to be alright, that I loved him and Jesus loved him. He was sobbing. After awhile, he seemed to calm and said he was going to leave. I told him I couldn’t let him go with the gun. He had another request. His key ring was somewhere in his office and it had all his keys on it. He couldn’t remember exactly where it was, but I told him I wouldn’t take him into the office until he gave me the pistol. He handed me the gun and unsteadily got out of the truck. I slipped the pistol into the back pocket of my jeans and steadied him as we walked to the office.
Thankfully, the office workers made themselves scarce, and with Josh’s office near the front door, we found the key ring and exited without confronting anyone. Josh had calmed enough to remove his work keys from the ring and handed them to me. He crawled back into his pickup and drove off painfully slow. I kept thinking I shouldn’t have let him leave but was clueless on what to do.
The next time I saw Josh was in December in Church at a faith based rehab center. He greeted us warmly. The center of his problems turned out to be a drug addiction few were aware of, but those closest to him suspected. He proclaimed his salvation and appeared to be doing well. It will be a continual struggle, and we pray he will keep Christ as his center. At Christmas time, Josh walked away from the rehab center, saying he couldn’t take it anymore. While our concern grew, I was told he got a job with the gas company in Evergreen, got divorced, and moved in with his mother. Continued prayers.
I haven’t thought much about that Halloween day last year, but in recounting these events, I’m thankful to God for many things. Only working a few days a week in semi-retirement, I’m thankful I was at work that day. I’m so grateful to God that he kept me calm. I’m grateful Josh couldn’t make the call to his junior high age son, because I’m afraid had he I would have so regretted getting his phone. I’m grateful he showed me instantly how to secure the gun clip without notice, wonderful fumbilitis. And I’m even grateful for my lack of knowledge of semi-automatic pistols…. Being clueless that a gun without the clip can still have a bullet in the chamber.
