A Hero Remembered--Wally Volkman
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Thursday, July 02, 2015 | |
Their mission was over. The plane, racing away after bombing oil refineries in Blech hammer, Germany, had just one final obstacle to clear—a lone flak gun in Hungary. It was not to be. When a piece of shrapnel severed a critical fuel line, Wally Volkman remembered hoping the plane could make it to the Yugoslavian border. The captain finally gave the order to bail and Wally jolted out the door of the bomber at 20,000 feet. When his parachute failed to open Wally began to panic. “Time goes slower than you’d think,” he told me. “I remember pondering how I would soon be in heaven, that I would never get to marry my sweetheart, June.” At about 1000 feet--at the very last possible moment--the chute finally opened, gently landing Wally between two trees. The dramatic dive may have sacred him half to death, but it likely also prevented his death. The Copilot who jumped out just after Wally was fatally shot out of the sky as his parachute—an easy target—floated downward. Pondering his options, Wally hid himself in a mound of roadside brush until a friendly partisan discovered him that night, offering to secretly transport him in a wooden wagon piled high with hay. He was reunited with his surviving crew members—after enduring a pitchfork search of the hay wagon by German soldiers. For six weeks, Wally and his crew worked their way through Yugoslavia, traveling 300 miles on foot—mostly at night. Finally, they met up with Allied forces at the Adriatic Sea. Wally reflects, “I’m thankful to my mother who prayed for me all the time. The ironic thing was, at the same thing, my brother—a paratrooper—went missing at the Battle of the Bulge. He, too, survived and went on to become a minister.” In the years since I interviewed Wally, he has passed away. But I'm convinced there's a lot more to his story. And because this World War 2 vet loved Jesus even more than he loved his country, I'm looking forward to getting all the details when time shall be no more. Until then, here is my salute to First Lieutenant Wally Volkman—an America Hero. |
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Dying--The Art of Reading
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Thursday, June 25, 2015 | |
People who read are a dying breed. Fact is, if you read much of anything, you are in a distinct minority in America....just because you read. |
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Praying to the Real God
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Thursday, June 18, 2015 | |
Have you met my crazy friend, Jack? Rides in lots of taxis. Has a passion for witnessing to Muslims. He told me about his latest encounter.
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Taking Down Towers
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Thursday, June 11, 2015 | |
For the past week, I've held the equivalent of skybox tickets for a demolition project one block away. Better than a Nik Wallenda tightrope walk, these high-act daredevils are disassembling a water tower said to be a century old. |
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Critiquing the Powerful
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Thursday, June 04, 2015 | |
It made the front page of every newspaper in America: Former Speaker of the House, Dennis Hastert—Indicted. The allegation: hush money—and lots of it—paid to keep a misconduct quiet. Hastert’s guilt or innocence is up for others to decide. But may I share my own encounter with Denny Hastert? Several years ago, I was tasked with writing and producing a series of anti-marijuana public service announcements for a radio campaign. As a freelancer, I was asked to fly to Washington and record endorsements for this campaign from a high profile congressional Democrat and Republican. Dennis Hastert, Speaker of the House, was the chosen Republican. In the surprisingly dark hallways of the United States Capitol building I breathed in power’s musky fragrance, ultimately setting up shop in Dennis Hastert’s (impressively sized) office. I handed him the script, powered up my recorder and we went to work. The problem was this. Mr. Hastert might well have been an effective legislator. But a narrator he was not (few politicians are). Frankly, his reading sounded unnatural, flat. But what was I supposed to do? He was, after all, the man second in line to succeed the President of the United States. In that perplexing moment (and it was a bit awkward) I chose to do what I always do when coaching “voice talent.” I politely observed “that was a good first read. But I wonder if we could try it slightly differently—like this.” He did. It was slightly better. So we recorded again—and again, eventually getting an acceptable take. It could be that the allegations against Mr. Hastert are ultimately found groundless. But if found guilty, I will always wonder how differently his life would have been if someone else had been there coaching him, critiquing him when he started making wrong decisions. Proverbs 10:17, “He is on the path of life who heeds instruction. But he who ignores reproof goes astray.” It may well be awkward giving—or receiving—reproof. But it’s the only path that leads to life. |
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