John Resnik

I grew up in one of the better-off families of our little town.  Potwin only had 500 people, so better off was a relative term, but Mom and Dad were business owners and owned 15-20 rental properties including three post offices.  We had a nice house. We had a maid. We hung out at the El Dorado Country Club. My siblings all went to college, and Dad wouldn’t let me take shop in high school so that I could get ready for college as well.

Part of the ritual in growing up in our house was working in the family businesses.  Somewhere in the grade school years, I started riding in pickups delivering appliances as had my older brothers.  Back at the shop, I would be the one cleaning out whoever’s refrigerator we just took in on trade.  As I got a little older, I started working on Dad’s rental houses and met Jim Ledgerwood.

Jim was a school teacher who worked for Dad on the weekends.  The first time I met him, Dad had asked me to drive to El Dorado and help Jim install a garage door.  I had been in this situation before, and normally whoever was hired to do the job wasn’t too excited that the the boss’ kid showed up.  Jim smiled and said “I have no idea what I’m doing here, want to help me figure out how to hang this thing up?”  I was a little concerned that I was the brains of this particular bunch, but I could read instructions, and a few hours later the garage door was up.  I was treated like an equal and walked a little taller on the way back to the car to drive home.

After that, whenever I was available on a Saturday in high school, I was working with Jim.  We put on new roofs on several rentals, fixed toilets, fixed floors, replaced carpets, painted, and did some minor electrical repairs.  In especially cold winters, water lines would occasionally freeze.  Jim and I would put on about eight layers of clothes, and crawl under the house to repair the pipe.  I was the first to crawl in because there were places I could get to that Jim couldn’t. Once, I remember replacing a pipe while staring at a huge rat carcass, and lying on my back under a house.    Lunch was always fun.  If we were close, we’d grab a couple of veal sandwiches at Job Lunch in El Dorado and Jim would tell me about farming and ask what’s going on in my life.

Later, I spent a couple of summers bailing hay in the hot Kansas sun, so any self image problems I had went away pretty quickly.

I’ll always be grateful for Jim.  He gave me the opportunity to prove myself.  He seemed to genuinely enjoy my company.  And I learned a ton.  I think my allegiance to Jim surprised some of my friends.  One summer, Jim and I were building apartments in Potwin for Dad.  One day, we were working on the roof and it was hot.  A friend and I were working and had walked back to my house for lunch.  Jim stayed and ate his lunch there.  I felt like my friend and I had taken too long, eating lunch and watching television in the air conditioning, and I was concerned that Jim would be up on the roof by himself.  About halfway back to the apartments, my friend looked over at me and said “you realize your practically running…”  I realized he was right, and I slowed down a little.  But not much.  I didn’t want to let Jim down.

Every young guy has a mentor, or mentors, who helps you work your way to manhood.  Jim was a big part of my journey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One day, the summer before my junior year in high school, my phone rang at home. It was Gregg Woodall from Towanda. I knew Gregg, but not well. He said his dad was running for County Commissioner, and that he was putting together a band to play in the parade in El Dorado, and needed a drummer. After a couple of weeks of practice we learned three songs (Eighteen by Alice Cooper, House of the Rising Sun, and Sweet Home Alabama by Lynard Skynard if I remember right). Gregg’s dad and cute younger sister (Jayme) were in the cab waving, and the three of us including amplifiers, guitars and a drum set were in the back. We must have been okay, Jammie won the election.

I had been in a couple of bands before.  Crown Zellerbach, (the name was taken from the bottom of a napkin dispenser in a Burger King) was me as a freshman and a group of juniors and seniors from Newton and Eric Enns from Remington.  We played at a couple of local Newton events.  I had worked the summer after eighth grade at Dad’s appliance store, saved my money, and bought a really cool, eight tom-tom clear red drum set.  So I’m not for sure if Eric and his friends liked me better or the drum set.  Before that, my experience consisted of a 6th grade talent show with Pat Adams singing, Travis Mann on guitar, me on the drums and all of us wearing mom’s wigs.

Armed with our success from the parade, Gregg, Brad Doggett and I decided to keep the band together.  Jeff Toews, who owned a bass and was musically inclined, joined us on bass guitar.  We needed a place to practice, and Dad owned a former beauty shop in Potwin.  We pulled together scraps of carpet, painted the walls in the bathroom, and we were set.  Practices were a couple of nights a week, and became something for the local youth to do if nothing else was going on.  Mike Adams was a regular.

By the time football homecoming season was coming around, we had enough songs, 17 or so, to play the dance at Remington.  Gregg got us in at Circle High, and we did the winter dance in Peabody.  We played mainly rock and roll covers, and our best feature was the fact that everyone could sing.  Gregg was the talent and lead sang all the songs he could remember the words to, and we would take the rest.  We could pull off the Eagles, Alabama, and some old Beach Boys because of everyone’s natural ability with harmony.

We developed a stage show as we went along.  My next summer’s wages went to a sound board and microphones.  Buddy Mark Vogelman built a lighting system by hand.  Craig Wohlgemuth created the Wog Fog by dropping dry ice into water and pumping the smoke into the stage.

Gregg and I enjoyed song writing, and Throw Money was a hit (Throw Money, we’re a worthy cause, Throw Money, we don’t want your applause…).  Gregg had written Why Did I Go? and Brighter Day for various old girlfriends.  We wrote The Gomez Blues as an homage to our high school Spanish teacher who died his hair to look more Hispanic.  Brad had written Travellin and he was a ladies’ guy so that one went over well.

My life started to change my senior year of high school.  I had always been the baby of a well to do family in Potwin – dad had an appliance store, mom had a liquor store, dad owned three post offices and 15-20 rental properties.  Shortly before Christmas, older brother Bob explained to us that Dad had a cash flow issue.  Dad changed from a ever-go-lucky, spunky, gregarious, slightly over-the-top entrepreneur to sitting in the dark tearing up little pieces of paper.  I knew something wasn’t right.  We kept the band together, but I quit the basketball team and got a job at Taco Tico in El Dorado.  Toughest time I had was early in my senior year, Brad needed a place to stay.  And mom asked me to tell him no.  We never did that.  I lost it, and a couple of days later mom and dad asked a neighbor to check in on me.

As I entered my senior year, we decided we needed a manager, and Jerry Peterson, classmate Michelle’s dad and manager of the local feedlot, took the job.  Jerry made us a promotional tape, business cards, Darlene his wife made us vests, and we kept pretty busy.  One highlight was the Kansas State Cattlemen’s Convention (we had to learn a few more country songs for that one).

After graduating from high school, I started college at Wichita State and lived at home to save money, stay closer to the girlfriend who was still in high school, and keep the band together.  Bad idea.  I went from being around people I loved all the time, to driving back and forth to a school where I didn’t have the opportunity to bond with anyone.  The band was my only source of refuge.  Brad Doggett had moved on, and Ed Carlson, a friend of Trent Sprecker’s from his Wichita days, joined us on guitar.  The first night we practiced, we moved our gear across the street and played for the local Watermelon Feed festival, Potwin’s biggest annual event.  It was Ed’s first time performing with a band, and he loved it.

By the end of my first semester, I was going nuts, and asked mom and dad if they could float me going to KU.  I joined brother Bill’s old fraternity, ATO, and ran across Doug Wolfe, guitar player, singer, and song writer from Wichita.  Next thing I knew, Ed moved up from Wichita, and Doug’s friend Chris Boyd joined us on bass.  The new band had a little different feel – not as great with the harmonies, but a step above on instruments.  We upped our game and worked some Boston and Kansas songs into the set, and played local bars and smaller high schools around the area.

Along the way, I got guitar-envy, and learned to play guitar because you can’t take the drums around with you.  But that’s another story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jayme, Tori and I moved to Whitewater when Tori was about two, and Alex was on the way.  We purchased a terrific, 100 year old two story home across the street from the grade school and next to the city baseball diamonds.  We were the second owners.  Jean Joseph grew up in that house with her mom and three sisters.  It had some terrific oak woodwork.  We updated by adding central air and heat, updating the electrical and the plumbing, in addition to painting and a lot of wall paper.  Thanks to my experience on Dad’s rentals, and some help from Grandpa and Jim Ledgerwood, we did a lot of it ourselves.

By the time Alex was old enough to run, he, Tori and I would head over to the ball diamonds.  I would pitch, they would hit and take off running.  Jayme would either join us, enjoy the view, or just enjoy the break.  Bogie, the greatest dog in America, would normally help field. The kids were adorable, and it was a lot of fun.

Tori joined a T-ball team when she was old enough – in Whitewater, at that time, that would mean she was around six. The first year was a little rough.  It was only t-ball, but we got creamed by everybody.  It shouldn’t matter, but it was a little hard for me to watch.

So, the next year, I offered to coach.  I got a couple of the parents to help, and we made sure the kids knew enough to be competitive and enjoy the game. T-ball remains the greatest American sport, and you could still see the occasional outfielder playing in the dirt or batter taking off running to third.

We moved to Minneapolis the summer before Tori’s third grade year, and Alex’s kindergarten year.  Alex’s first T-ball team had several coaches.  One was Steve Lee, a local attorney who had lost his sight several years earlier.  Steve monitored the lineup in braille.  Kevin Blocklinger’s barber shop sponsored the team.  So when it was time for Alex’s first haircut in Minneapolis, we recommended he try Kevin out.  Alex was not having any part of it.  He simply refused.  This was pretty out of character for our little guy, so we pressed him on why he wouldn’t want to get his hair cut by the guy who was nice enough to sponsor his T-ball team.  Finally, Alex gave his explanation and we realized he confused Steve with Kevin.  “Mom,” he said.  “I can’t get my hair cut there.  The barber is BLIND!”   For years afterward, whenever Alex would get his haircut, Kevin would act like he couldn’t see, wave his arms around and say “Alex, where are you?  Hold still, and come over here so I can cut your hair.”

Before long, I was coaching Alex’s baseball, basketball and football teams, and Tori’s basketball teams.  Youth sports had become what scouting had been for Bob, Bill and Mom.  It was a way for parents to spend time with their kids in a group environment, learning skills and habits that would benefit them for life.

Tori started playing basketball in third or fourth grade in Minneapolis.   Practices were once or twice a week at the Minneapolis Grade School gym, so it kept us busy getting homework done, dinner served, and off to practice.  Games were on weekends in Salina or in other towns in the area.  As they progressed, the girls’ team got pretty good on a regional level.  And it was a terrific group of kids.  They encouraged and supported each other.  They worked really hard.  They had a lot of fun. By the time the girls entered junior high, they had become pretty successful against all the other small town teams in the area.  After the junior high basketball season, we would form teams of 2-3 kids from different towns in the area.  It was a great way to expand our circle of friends and Alex met some cool older kids to hang around with.

Alex’s friends all seemed to be about the same size, and fast.  That made coaching most sports fun.  They did well in YMCA football.  They were competitive in baseball.  In basketball, their skills and speed made them really tough.  By the time they got to junior high, I found myself frequently saying, “That was a pretty good team you guys just beat by 30.”  These kids stuck together, and made it to the 3A State Championship game Alex’s senior year.  I was really proud of him, because of his effort.  He didn’t start his junior year, but he and Trevor Adkins were the most supportive bench guys in the history of the game.  His senior year, he started at the four position (large forward), even though he was only 5’11” or so.  His effort and hustle were contagious.  I was travelling back and forth from my new job in Michigan at the time, so I asked the local video crew to record the games for me.  I ended up with a set of CD’s that Grandpa, Grandma and us have watched several times.  I don’t know that we ever saw Alex not block out for a rebound.  The undersized kid made All-League in both basketball (as a large forward) and football (as a defensive lineman).

The time spent coaching the kids and their friends in sports was really special to me.  I got to bond with two special young people, and know where they were, what they were doing, and who they were with in the formative years.  And we had a whole lot of fun.

It’s funny, but one thing that sticks with the kids from this time in their lives is when I would tell them while shooting in basketball “Don’t leave it short. Give your shot a chance by making sure you get it there.  If it’s off a little to the right or left, you can fix that later.”  My coaching style is similar to my parenting style, I’m more of an encourager than a disciplinarian.  I hope that Tori and Alex carry this lesson to their lives as well – don’t leave it short.  Give life all you have.  Have a lot of fun.  Work hard.  Enjoy your family and your friends. Hug everybody.  If you’re off a little to the right or the left, you can correct that later – but in the meantime, give life all you’ve got and don’t leave it short.

When Alex was a sophomore in high school, church wars were on in Minneapolis, Kansas. Well, war may be a little extreme, but our high school principal and his friends had started a praise band at the Bennington Bible Church and were drawing folks in, especially the youth.
So, we had a decision, watch our church struggle, or do something. I called Kathy McHenry and asked if she wanted to start a band, except ours would be different – the kids would be the singers. Since no one had a free night of the week to practice, the plan was to meet for an hour before church, learn whatever we could, and perform it that day during the service. Even if we weren’t great, we knew that older folks like kids and people always clap in church.
Kathy is a gifted piano player, and her daughter Kacia a talented singer. I played drums and a little guitar, and Alex sang in New Image, the high school song and dance troop. The first year, it was the four of us with one of the Kuder sons on the drums. We were a little rough, but still earned applause.
The next year, we upped our game. Jee Hoon Jang moved in with us from Korea, we recruited Trish Barker, Kim Baccus, and Tyler Crosson. Sarah Comfort, only a freshman, was a super sub if someone couldn’t show up. The Kuder boy graduated, so I moved from guitar to drums. Suddenly, we sounded pretty good. Within a few weeks, in the fall of Alex’s junior year, we started moving from church to church. Tyler and Trish attended other churches, so we visited those periodically, and we got the occasional invitation to play at other churches in the Minneapolis area or Salina.
Kathy picked the songs with input from the kids, and we still only practiced before church. The kids were really talented, quick studies, and pulled of some great harmony on the fly. Jee Hoon brought us a song in Korean called Jehovah. His translation wasn’t perfect (“I don’t know how I am supposed to do”), but the passion and enthusiasm of the kids more than made up for it. Jee sang the first verse in Korean, and everyone did the second verse translated to English. For the last line, everyone learned a little Korean. It went great.
One morning while driving to KC at 4am to catch a flight, and listening to a blues station on a skip out of Chicago, I wrote a song called Paul’s Lament. It occurred to me, that I had never heard a Christian song in a blues riff, and if anyone had the material for a great blues song, it was Paul. I started jotting down thoughts: “I was riding to Damascus, with my donkey as my steed, when a voice came out of nowhere made me get down on my knees and it said ‘Saul, why have you forsaken me?” and “I said I’ll be your mouthpiece, I want to spread your news – but there’s only one of me there must be fifteen million Jews.” I came back and taught it to the group. The kids and Kathy picked up on it quickly, Alex did the intro on the bass, and everyone took a verse.
On Super Bowl Sunday, we decided to take a shot at recording a CD of our top songs. Jehovah and Paul’s Lament made the cut. We spent the afternoon on the stage at Minneapolis High School, using the recording equipment the music department had ‘just received through a grant. We took a break and Jayme fed us chili and cinnamon rolls at our house, then we went back to the high school and finished up. We had a local photographer take photos of the session.
The CD turned out great, even though due to time, we only got one shot at many of the songs. We sold them for $10 dollars at the local churches and through publicity in the newspaper. The proceeds went to a local charity. Another cold weekend with a the photographer generated the CD cover and a couple of cool posters that adorned our basement for years. The band’s name was Sanctified, the CD was Not Perfect, But Forgiven.
I don’t know if anyone enjoyed this experience as much as I did. For a couple of hours a week, I got to spend time with some of the best people I know. Terrific kids, with big hearts, and tons of talent. Small, rural churches don’t have it easy, and it was fun watching the kids attract crowds at churches, and seeing the interaction between the kids and the older folks in the congregations.
On graduation Sunday at the church, I told the kids: “I plan to keep in touch. If your prospective spouse thinks that’s weird, then marry someone else.” We’ve kept in touch, but I need to do a better job. My goal is to contact them every once in a while just to let them know that someone thinks, actually is pretty sure, that they’re terrific. And not much is going to change that.

Tori was born an old soul. As a child, she was mature beyond her years. This made her a delight to raise, and traditionally difficult periods, such as junior high, much easier.

She has the gift of assertiveness.  As a two year old, she was playing restaurant, and was taking our orders.  Grandpa told her he wanted a hamburger, french fries, and cherry pie.  She politely, but firmly told him they were out of cherry pie.  Grandma was next, she ordered a hamburger, french fries and cherry pie – Tori cheerfully said, “Okay!”  Grandpa quickly protested, “But you told me I couldn’t have cherry pie.”  Tori was quick to respond, “Grandpa!  I said no cherry pie!”  Then she smiled, and confirmed Grandma’s order again.

Tori’s confidence has landed her some pretty good opportunities.  One of her high school friends, Jeff Mortimer, had worked for months long-snapping a football at a target in the Minneapolis gym, with hopes of becoming a walk-on for nationally ranked Kansas State and legendary coach Bill Snyder. The big day came, and Jeff and his dad Scott were driving to his tryout in Manhattan. Tori called Jeff on his cell, “Jeff, while you’re there, ask Coach Snyder if Randi and I can be managers.” Jeff said, “Tori, I don’t know if it works that way – he’s pretty busy and if I get to meet him I’m sure it will only be for a few minutes…” Tori said, “Put your dad on the phone…Scott, this is Tori. While you’re there, can you ask Coach Snyder if Randi and I can be managers?” Scott said, “Okay, Tori.” Tori was a manager for the K-State football team the next fall, and Jeff was a long-snapper.

Tori showed her leadership abilities as President of her Senior class in high school in 2002.  Terrorists had demolished the World Trade Center in New York City the previous September 11, and Engine Company 6 were the first responders.  Tori thought it would be cool if a fireman came to Minneapolis, KS from NYC to address the Senior Class at graduation.  She contacted them, and next thing I know, Al Siccianno (Fireman Al) is booking tickets to Kansas.  Word spreads and this quickly becomes a big event in Minneapolis.  Someone from the community offered their home to Al during his visit and the local firemen offered to show him around town and meet the crew.  Other communities were trying to steal him from us. Al did a great job with his speech, had a great time, and gave all the graduates an Engine Company 6 shirt.    At Tori’s graduation party, Al recommended we spend a vacation in Bar Harbor and Acadia National Forest.  We did, and he had a buddy take us all on his boat to an island to have dinner.  Tori’s vision and persistence created a lot of terrific memories for all of us.

Tori has a deep faith, a love of people, a love of life, and fortunately, a strong love of us.

When I was promoted to run Champion Bus, in Imlay City, MI, we moved a thousand miles away from her. She was a sophomore at K-State, a difficult stage of life for darn near everybody. She joined and was a leader in her sorority, but not a partier. She and Sunshine would hang out together while others were out. She and Jake spent a lot of time together. She did great in school, and was on the campus judiciary board.

While we were in Michigan, our goal was to see each other every other month at a minimum. When Tori and her friends got an apartment, Jayme and I got an extra room and furnished it. I don’t think we ever missed a Thanksgiving or a few summer weekends at the lake with Grandma and Grandpa. Christmas was usually in Michigan, frequently the week after Christmas. If there was a will, there was a way.

In the song I wrote for Tori’s wedding, I stole a line from Glen Frey: “Though the miles may separate us, deep inside I think you see, that I’m always part of you, and you’re always part of me. For the love that I had for you as I knelt beside your bed, will be upon you always, no matter where you lay your head.”

After their wedding, Tori and Jake lived in an apartment near I-35 and 75th in KC, and we got to visit them there. Not too long after that, they had James and we had a whole another reason to visit frequently. Tori also did a great job of keeping in touch by phone. One night, she called and was having a tough day. She mentioned that she really missed us, and if we lived there we could see each other more often, and drop by on a “random Tuesday.” On one hand, it was such a compliment to have our daughter, this amazing young person, want to spend time with us. On the other hand, it tore our heart out.

Fast forward a few years, and we’re living in KC, making up for 10 years of lost time at a high rate of speed. The kids may have 15 games in a week and we may miss one of them, or none. Church on Sundays. An occasional cookout or weekend at the lake.

Or we just stop by. If it’s on a random Tuesday, we always take the time to acknowledge that and be thankful for the opportunity to enjoy each other and this terrific group of kids.

Porch Swing started as an idea developed while driving from the Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri, to Michigan. When we lived in Metamora, one hour north of Detroit, we drove to Jayme’s parents’ home 3-5 times per year. The drive back was a killer, so we would leave at 3:30 or 4 am, get through St. Louis before the traffic hit, and arrive at home in Michigan, after an hour time loss, around 4-5pm.
In August, 2013, on one drive back, I spent the first 1 1/2 hours thinking about the concept of capturing life stories. I had thought about this on several occasions before, but this time I went from wondering why no one has done it successfully, to the point of wondering what it would take to get there.
So, at my traditional 5 am stop at I-70 in Kingdom City, in addition to a coffee refill, I picked up a small notepad and a package of pens at a truck stop. I spent the next four or so hours, driving, drinking coffee, listening to am radio, and jotting notes on my notepad. I sketched out a rough business plan, website strategy, and marketing strategy.  My first name for the business was rodstory.com, in honor of Grandpa’s friend, and later, our first customer.
After Jayme woke up, I shared my thoughts with her, and she added some really cool thoughts regarding the Story Coaches who would help folks write their stories.
On subsequent trips back from the lake, I would pull out the notepads (there were two before long), and continue the process.
In January of 2018, I found myself between jobs. By then, I had done research on intellectual property and competitive analysis. We had hired a young lady to prepare the website, after several (5-7) meetings with firms/individuals who ultimately weren’t interested or weren’t the right fit.
We met Annie, who agreed to provide our initial words. We met Tim, who at first told us that he was not looking for any more clients for digital marketing, but came back later and decided to join.
We met Reagan (Publishing) at a coffee shop, reconnected with Mikal (Social Media) who we had worked with in Michigan, met Kelly (Design) at Cozy Café after a referral from Annie, and reunited with Becky when she relocated to KC.
Chris (Website) was a Reagan referral and joined the team a few months later.
The team was set, the product was looking pretty spiffy, and we started sampling with family and friends.
A couple of quick victories included Rod Storey, Jayme’s dad Jammie’s best friend from high school. We got Rod’s story completed, largely by him dictating to Jammie or writing on his Boogie Board, and Jammie telling me the stories while I was driving home from work. We completed Rod’s book, he ended up ordering 12 of them, three months before he passed away. The smiles, and comments from friends and family were worth the effort.
Next, I worked with Jayme’s mom, Pat. A chronically lovely lady, Pat was at first hesitant because of a concern that her story wasn’t very interesting, and wanting to avoid some early memories. I interviewed her several times, mostly with Jammie there. We quickly found that the high points were numerous and the difficult early times were easy to avoid.
As we sit at August, 2018, we believe we have cleared the first hurdle to success, we have a product and have launched our digital advertising. The next hurdle is cracking the code to getting people to buy. We’re just starting, and we’re not sure how high this hurdle is. We don’t believe that any of our predecessors have approached this hurdle with enough momentum and gumption to succeed. Or it could be that the hurdle is forty feet tall.
We are looking forward to the challenge with a great group of people.

 

(Makayla was selected to be an intern at Dan Gilbert’s Quicken Loans the summer before her senior year of college at Bowling Green.  It was quite an honor, only a small percentage of applicants were selected.  One day Kayla called and we were talking about the homeless in Detroit.  We had a nice chat, and I sent her this letter afterwords.  She ended up following up on some of my suggestions…see below.)

A note to Makayla…June 16, 2016

You have a big heart, and today it’s broken because of all the homeless people you see in downtown Detroit, very few stopping to notice or help.  It’s overwhelming, it’s depressing, it’s not right.  It makes you want to go somewhere else, and you feel guilty about that.  It’s too much…

First, you’re not alone.  We went on a few business trips to Chicago when Alex was probably five.  After the first one, he prayed every night that God would make him rich so he could help the homeless.  If I remember right, he chose not to join us on a later trip.  Point is, you’re in pain because you have a big heart, you have a lot going on in your life right now, and you’re right in the middle of it.  But you’re not alone.

So, what do we do?  My advice?  Pick one.  Go and talk with one today, tomorrow or Monday.  Ask him/her a few questions, look in their eyes, tell them you hope to see them tomorrow. There’s probably 10,000 homeless people in Detroit and 10,000 cool young people, so if each of you pick one to get to know…

If you want to give him/her something, the shelter folks would tell you to give them food instead of money, because many are suffering from addictions.  But that’s up to you.  But making a connection and saying Hi every day is a lot.  Encourage her.  Find out where her kids live.

BE SAFE.  You can only help people if one of them doesn’t kill you.  Choose a meeting place that’s out in the open.

There’s a great story about a guy who is frantically throwing back starfish into the ocean, except millions of them have been washed up on the shore and are dying. A guy walks by and says, “what are you doing?  There are millions of them out there, you can’t possibly make a difference.”  The guy throws a starfish in the ocean and says, “I made a difference to that one.”

SMILE.  These people get ignored for a living.  People avoid eye contact.  Give them one of your big, wonderful smiles.  It could be the greatest gift you can give.

John Meyer has it wrong.  One of the richest guys in the world is “waiting for the world to change.”  He probably wrote that song feeling like you do today.  But that’s not the answer.  Touch one life.  Pick one and do what you can to help.  Look for him every day on your way to work and say hi.

If you have a chance to volunteer at a kitchen or shelter that helps the homeless, ask how things are.  I did this in Wichita and found that there were enough options that the homeless were aware of what was being served every day and going to the kitchen that was serving the best lunch that day.  When Rudy Giuliani turned New York around, he did it by data, they knew exactly how many homeless and “squeegee guys” there were, and eventually they were able to move some up the ladder and get the rest the help they needed.

God Bless Dan Gilbert — he just brought 300 of the brightest young people to this area.  All of them are probably struggling with this the same as you, hoping to help and not sure how.  Go watch Pay It Forward, or Have a Little Faith (it takes place in Detroit) if you need to get fired up.

And pick one to get to know.

Dad II

(Next time I saw Kayla, at Thanksgiving at the lake, she told me that she followed my advice.  She selected a young lady who was at the same place every day, and just chatted with her.  I’ve asked Kayla to do a video with me to discuss the story.)

 

A Father’s Love

A few months before her and Jake’s wedding in 2005, Tori asked me to write a song for the first dance at their reception.  I told her that it’s not quite that easy, and that Butterfly Kisses, a terrific song from a father to a daughter, had already been written, but that I would take a shot.

I kicked it around for weeks – not wanting to put too much pressure on myself, but trying to keep it top of mind in case an idea came up. And I prayed about it quite a bit.  The melody for the chorus hit my one day in a shoe store, and I think by the time we checked out, I had sketched together “Heaven’s just another day for those of us who pray.”

I went home and found the chords on the guitar. Not surprisingly, the chords for the chorus are used in about 70% of the catchiest songs ever written, but for some reason, with different words, phrasing and melodies, they continually sound fresh and different.  I wrote the words and chords down so I wouldn’t forget them.  I had nothing for the verses, so I let it sit, and walked away from it.  I was afraid that if I forced myself to write it, I would write something bad.  So I put it on the back burner for a few more weeks, not trying to rush it.

Then one day I was at home and the melody for the verses hit me.  I really liked it, but I was concerned that it wouldn’t mesh with the chorus.  Rather than getting that technical, I hummed the tune in my head a couple of times and thought about Tori.  Before long, “You looked up at me smiling, as I tucked you in at night” came to mind.  I loved it.  “I put my arms around you, and I held on to you tight” came shortly after, and seemed to capture the emotion of that time in our lives.  I then pulled out the guitar, and figured out that the melody of the verses meshed with the melody of the chorus pretty well.

I decided it was now or never.  I needed a way to isolate myself from distractions so I could try to finish it.  I thought about driving around in the country the way I did when I was trying to decide whether to take a job that would move us to Pennsylvania.  I ruled that out – too hard to concentrate on the road and write a song at the same time.  I thought about going down to the basement – not isolated enough.  I couldn’t take the chance of getting interrupted by a phone call or call to dinner.  If I got on a roll, I had to see it through.

I settled on jogging.  Not out in the country where I would have to pay attention to where I was, but around Winding Pine, our one mile circle road, where I couldn’t get lost.  I put several note cards and a pencil in my shorts and headed out. I jogged as long as I could, probably about an hour.  I don’t know how many times I went around Winding Pine.  I know I was around Jim and Maggie James’ house when I thought about Sean Murphy and the “Isaac Newton, Galileo, Einstein, they’re pretty smart” line hit me.  I’m sure I looked pretty weird jogging along, stopping to pull note cards and a pencil out of my shorts, writing something down, and jogging off again.  By the time I was through, I was exhausted and had pretty much written the song the way it is today.

The song was a hit at the wedding.  As I was greeting people coming into the church, Jeff Toews, Travis Mann and Bret Mosiman mentioned that they brought their guitars.  They knew that our friend Pat Adams was scheduled to sing, but passed away tragically just a couple of weeks before, so they were prepared to help out if needed.  I asked them to join me in a back room prior to the start of the reception at the hotel.  In about 10 minutes, they had learned the chords and put together four part harmony on the chorus.  Alex joined me on the bass.  Tori wasn’t expecting backup singers, so that was terrific.  But she did come prepared with some Kleenex as her and Jake did their first dance.

It went great.  Alex was on the bass, some of my best friends were backing me up, and I didn’t forget any of the words.  Tori and Jake really enjoyed it, but not as much as my brother Bob.  After the song was over, Tori and Jake were headed over to give me a hug, but were beat by Uncle Bob, who practically ran over to give me.  He gave me a big hug with tears in his eyes.  It was a special moment of a special day and a special evening.

The words are below.  I’m a big fan of learning what song writers were thinking as they wrote songs, so there are some explanations following the lyrics. There are several lines of the song that refer to people or events, I explain those after the lyrics.

 

 

 

A Father’s Love

You looked up at me, smiling

As I tucked you in at night.

I put my arms around you

And I held on to you tight.

I prayed that God would lead you

And keep you in His grace

Till my arms no longer reached you

And another took my place.

 

It’s my job to protect you

Still I tried to understand

That someday you would be driving off

With another, younger man.

Though I couldn’t pick him for you,

I hope that you could see

Of all the guys you could have chosen

This one’s all right by me.

 

Heaven’s just another day for those of us who pray.

Each day we get our blessings from above.

God and I will be with you, every minute, every day.

Cause you can’t escape the arms of a Father’s Love.

 

Isaac Newton, Galileo, Einstein

They’re pretty smart.

Still you’ve got to have a daughter

To know what’s in a father’s heart.

There will be no calculation

That will help a man to know

The joy he will be feeling

As he’ll watch his daughter grow.

Though the miles may separate us,

Deep inside I think you see

That I’m always part of you,

And you’re always part of me.

Cause the love that I had for you,

As I knelt beside your bed

Will be beside you always,

No matter where you lay your head.

 

Heaven’s just another day for those of us who pray.

Each day we get our blessings from above.

God and I will be with you every minute, every day.

Cause you can’t escape the arms of a Father’s love.

 

Mom and I always worried, were we too gentle or too rough?

Times like this we’re looking at you, thinking we were close enough.

And when our game is over, and it’s left for you to play

You know that we’ll be with you, every minute, every day.

 

Heaven’s just another day for those of us who pray.

Each day we get our blessings from above.

God and I will be with you, every minute, every day.

Cause you can’t escape the arms of a Father’s love.

 

A bit of the back stories to the lyrics:

“You looked up at me smiling, as I tucked you in at night” – Mom and I loved tucking you in and praying each night – your big blue eyes looking over that little blue elephant…

“I put my arms around you, and I held on to you tight” – I had all the normal fears of a young father – was I up to the task?  Can I take care of you and keep you safe? When I hugged you and you were getting strength from me, I was getting strength from you.

“I prayed that God would lead you, and keep you in His grace, till my arms no longer reached you and another took my place.”   – There was no way I could know if I could always be with you.  So I was always talking to God making sure that He would take care of your wonderful little spirit in the event I could not.  I was pretty sure He was okay with that.

“It’s my job to protect you, still I tried to understand, that someday you would be driving off with another, younger man.” –   This is a reference to a terrific dad song from that time period called That’s My Job.  I knew that when the time would come, you would find a wonderful man.  And I was hoping, but pretty sure, you’d leave a space in your heart for me.

“Though I couldn’t pick him for you, I hope that you can see, of all the guys you could’ve chosen, this one’s all right by me.” –   Two meanings: first, I really like Jake.  Good pick.  As Mom and I have said many times, if you make the spouse decision right, all the other decisions get easier.  The second is a nod toward my dad.  Dad didn’t mind telling me he was proud of me. I think my favorite was one time he didn’t know I was listening.  I was taking a nap on the living room floor of the smaller house in Potwin, and Mom and Dad were in the kitchen.  I heard Dad look at me and say, “There may be better boys out there, but this one’s okay with me.”  This may be my favorite compliment of all time.

“Heaven’s just another day, for those of us who pray” – I feel strongly that God’s message to us isn’t to try to be good so you make it to heaven.  I think it’s stay close to God and let’s make heaven here.

“Each day we get our blessings from above” – This also means God wants us to have fun while doing it.  I don’t think He takes any joy in us making ourselves miserable for religion’s sake.  I think the idea is more, love God with all your heart, love your neighbor as yourself, and have fun doing it because that makes more people want to do it.

God and I will be with you every minute, every day cause you can’t escape the arms of a Father’s love.  I want you to go through life knowing that you are loved.  No matter where you are or what is going on in your life.  It’s a strong force that then enables you to share love with others. And you do a great job of that.

Isaac Newton, Galileo, Einstein they’re pretty smart.  Still you’ve got to have a daughter to know what’s in a father’s heart.  I was thinking of Sean Murphy, one of the smartest, most intellectual, deepest thinking people I know.  And I thought about the great thinkers of history.  And the march of technology.  And the fact that no matter how smart you are, or how fast your computer can run, you can’t express love in an equation.  So even with these gifts, we all need to take the time to develop the love in our lives.  (And Sean does a great job of that, by the way.)

Though the miles may separate us, deep inside I think you see, that I’m always part of you, and you’re always part of me.  Being in Michigan with you in Kansas was tough on all of us.  But it make me think of a terrific Glenn Frey song that was one of Dad’s Greatest Hits. You’re a part of me, I’m a part of you…

Cause the love that I had for you, as I knelt beside your bed, will be upon you always no matter where you lay your head.  – This is my favorite line in the song.  Song writing is hard, for one because you end up with “throw away words” that finish a phrase, or complete a rhyme, but wouldn’t be included otherwise.  (This song has a few of those, but not too many.)  But I could write this line 1000 times and not do it any better.  It says exactly what I want to say.  And I hope it gives you comfort.

Mom and I always worried, were we too gentle or to rough? – Half the time you’re raising kids you’re afraid you’re spoiling them.  The other half, you wonder if you are killing their spirit.  If you’re concerned about both, you’re probably pretty close to doing it right.

Times like this we’re looking at you, thinking we were close enough.  A nod to my friend JerryAnne Hadley, a wonderful woman who worked with me at DeVore Enterprises in Wichita.  JerryAnne had been the marketing director at Channel 3, but wanted to work for an entrepreneur, so she and I got to spend 5-6 years working together.  She mentioned to me one Monday morning that her adult daughter had come home for the weekend.  She told me “I was just sitting there looking at this wonderful thing I had created.”  I love that.  And it’s exactly the way Mom and I feel when we spend time with Tori and Alex.

And when our game is over, and it’s left for you to play, you know that we’ll be with you every minute every day.   – This one is in memory of my God father, Tom Thorpe.  Tom and Marye were close friends of my Mom and Dad.  Jayme and I were able to attend Tom’s funeral, and his favorite prayer, “The Game Guy’s Prayer” was on the inside of the program.  I loved it and kept it.  The prayer asks for strength when the bounces don’t come your way, courage to give it all you have all the time, compassion to help teammates who are struggling…

This song has continued to play a part in our lives.  It’s frequently requested when the family is together.  One of my favorite times is when Thalia asks James to dance with her while I’m playing it, and James will lift her up and Thalia closes her eyes and you can tell she pictures herself as a professional dancer.  Jee Hoon has really taken to the song, and has shared a video of me singing it with several of his friends.  He says his Mom, a terrific Christian, especially enjoys the first line of the chorus, Heaven’s just another day for those of us who pray.

And at the end of the day, I’m glad Tori asked.  She has always had the confidence to ask people to do things they wouldn’t have otherwise (Scott, tell Coach Snyder that Randi and I want to be managers).  And because she did, I’ve been able to tell her exactly how I feel about her and we’ve been able to enjoy this song for years.

My Mission Statement and My Faith

To love as much as I can, for there is no greater gift you can give.  He who loves the most, wins.

To love God with all my heart and to encourage others in their walk, because we all need God’s presence, guidance and love.

To love myself, by keeping a strong balance of mental, physical, spiritual and social in my life, because the stronger I am, the more I can help others.

To succeed, and help others succeed.  Success is contagious.

 

I keep a hand-written copy of My Mission Statement on a note card in my bathroom drawer where I look at it daily.  I got the idea from Seven Habits of Extraordinary People.

To love as much as I can, for there is no greater gift you can give.  He who loves the most, wins.

I hope I do a good job of loving people as much as I can.  It’s what God wants.  “Love God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself.” It’s also a great way to live – it’s a lot of fun.  You find out that people are willing to return the love to you, which makes it even more fun.  (As the Beatles said, “and in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make.”)

Sometimes I worry that I’m not doing enough for others.  I try to be careful about this, because if you spend too much time worrying about it, you get down on yourself, and then you’re not much help to anyone.  When I catch myself thinking about this, I try to pray about it and ask God to guide me.  As was said in Friday Night Lights, “Clear eyes, pure hearts, can’t lose.”  I believe that.

To love God with all my heart and to encourage others in their walk, because we all need God’s presence, guidance and love. (My Faith)

I enjoy talking about my relationship with God, and chatting with Jayme and the kids.  I think all of us should consider the questions – Is there a God?  Was Jesus the Son of God? Etc.  Alex and Lindsey shared with me the book “I Don’t Have Enough Faith to be an Atheist” and I’ve read “The Case for Christ”. Dave Wilson at Kensington Church in Detroit has done some wonderful sermons on the topic.  I believe that the evidence for God outweighs the evidence that there isn’t one.  I think the choices in “Evidence that Demands a Verdict,” that Jesus was either a liar, Lord or lunatic are the only ones we have to choose from, and that Lord makes the most sense.  I think that we humans fail all the time but that’s the beauty of free will.  And, as the title of the Sanctified CD states, we are all “Not Perfect, But Forgiven.”

At the Man Up retreat I went to with Alex, a speaker showed this great example of our relationship to God.  One person represented God, and stood at one end of the stage with his arms open.  The other guy represented us, at the other side of the stage.  God’s hope is that we walk across the stage and into his arms.  When we do he gives us a big hug.  It’s a very secure feeling.  At some point, we are able to turn, still in his arms, and face away from God and toward other people with our arms outstretched.  This visual represents what I want to share with Jayme and the kids, I have both arms around them, and they feel secure enough that they can wrap their arms around others while still in my arms.  I love that.

To love myself, by keeping a strong balance of mental, physical, spiritual and social in my life, because the stronger I am, the more I can help others.

I believe that I must love myself, and take care of myself, in order to help others.  If you don’t take care of yourself, it’s hard to help others.  In college, I met this great guy who was leading the Campus Crusade for Christ at KU.  He did a drawing of a wheel with four spokes, labelled mental, physical, spiritual and social.  His point was that if any one of the spokes is too short, or too long in your life, you’re out of balance.  For example, spiritual is good, but if you focus on that at the expense of the others, you’re probably not in a good spot.  Same as if you focus too much, or too little on physical, mental or social.

To succeed, and help others succeed.  Success is contagious.

I believe that success is a good thing.  And that as P.J. O’Rouke wrote in Eat the Rich, economics is not a zero sum game.  Which means that if we make more money, it doesn’t mean that others make less.  I believe the contrary is true – the more success we have, the more we can help others.  For one, we now know how to succeed.  It’s hard to help others succeed if we haven’t succeeded ourselves.  For two, it’s harder to give away a lot of money when you’re broke.  So the idea is for all of us to do as well as we can and help others along the way.  So I don’t know that a vow of poverty was really what God intended, at least if wouldn’t work very well if we all did it.  As my dad once said, “At some point, somebody, somewhere has to sell something.”  We all should succeed according to our own merits and good fortune and help as many others along the way as best we can.  That, I believe, is what God has in mind.