July 17-18, 1970

By the end of the week, both Nate and I were ready for a break from studies. We invited Cathy and John over for 11:00 PM ice cream sundaes and talked into the night – because they came bringing bad news.

John’s draft number was getting close, which wouldn’t have been a problem with his law school deferment. But he very much wanted to quit school.

Worse than that, though, was the news that John might be going blind. They’d just learned this from an eye doctor and were still reeling. John hoped the Army would give him a 1-A deferment – after which he would quit school.

The whole conversation was depressing, and since neither Cathy nor John had any spiritual underpinnings, they felt hopeless. Our best encouragement didn’t seem to help.

When Nate and I fell into bed after 2:30 AM, we held each other close and voiced our hope that these good friends would be OK and that they’d one day connect with Jesus Christ… the Giver of hope. This was our first peer-experience with a major health crisis, and it felt awful.

Saturday was much brighter, because Mom and Dad were coming – and  bringing our beloved Baron! We prepared the fondue dinner they’d requested and when they walked in, we couldn’t believe how much Baron had grown in just two weeks. Nate kissed him right on the mouth!

Mom told us that several families had asked if Baron was available for adoption. His cooperative, friendly demeanor delighted many, so Mom asked our opinion. We said absolutely not, and wisely, that’s what she’d told the others.

Nate and I spent the night on the Murphy bed, giving Mom and Dad our room, and on Saturday morning we satisfied another parental request – a visit to Allerton Park. They’d heard us rave about it but had never been there.

At one point Dad said he wanted to talk to Nate, so those two went one direction while Mom and I chased after Baron.

The 3 of them left in late afternoon, headed for yet another commitment in the Chicago area. After we waved them off, I couldn’t wait to get the details on what Dad had  talked to Nate about.

It turned out to be our poisonous Mustang.

We had continued driving it through the summer, leaving the windows down to prevent headaches. But Dad was concerned since a cooler season was coming.

“If you can sell the Mustang for a reasonable price, we can put something together without too much trouble,” he said.  “I’d like to see you in a new car for a change. But it would have to be cheaper and smaller than the cars you’ve had.”

Dad believed used cars weren’t reliable and since buying his first vehicle (a Model A Ford in the 1920’s), he’d always bought new.

By Monday morning, Nate and I had put an ad in the local paper, knowing it would be illegal not to disclose the toxic nature of our car. We priced it realistically and were flying high at the prospect of new wheels!

But our thoughts were heavy, too… because of Cathy and John.

“Lord, you know the hopes of the helpless. Surely you will hear their cries and comfort them.” (Psalm 10:17)