Yes, Bob Jones. Yes, the university. And a plastic drink mug that my brother-in-law Phil sent me. So let me take you back and give you the whole story...
It was 1986 and I was finishing up my degree at WMU. Sister Pam and her husband Phil took a trip to the Smokey Mountains that summer and stopped at a place for gas and food. It was there that Phil noticed a mug from Bob Jones University. "How cool is that?" he said, and immediately thought of me. Not because of our shared Christian beliefs or anything like that. Nope, it was because "if 'Bob Jones' can be the name of the university, then WE can be the name of a university!" He knew I would appreciate the idea that in addition to the venerable institutions of Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth, and MIT that there could be a moniker as simple as "Bob Jones." So he bought that plastic mug emblazoned with the BJU logo and sent it to me.
I started student teaching at East Kentwood HS that August. Band camp was the usual affair of learning new names, teaching drill, and seeing alumni return to visit the director. I was new to all of this at that time, of course, but the kids and staff and parents were pretty cool about getting me up to speed. At least two kids asked about my WMU experience. "My sister goes to Western," one trombone player declared. Yeah, kid, so do 25,000 other people... "Maybe you will meet her some day; she'll probably stop by band camp this week." She did.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I had my trusty Bob Jones mug with me much of the time. Had to stay hydrated, after all, right? I think I was actually pursuing some sort of weight loss/control thing at the time, since it's been a pretty constant pursuit most of my adult life, so I had my water! One of the band moms, Lynn, was at school quite frequently helping out with uniforms. She had a table set up in the doorway of the uniform storage room and would come in to hem, mend, or otherwise take care of things for the kids. I'd walk out and chat with her occasionally, enjoying the break from whatever I was doing.
As it turns out, Lynn was the mom of the afore-mentioned trombone player and his sister; a third child would start band in the elementary school later that year. As it further turns out, the family attended a large local Baptist church. So my Bob Jones mug sort of caught her attention :)
Want the whole sordid tale? There's really not enough room or time. But I will give you some highlights. Dana did come to band camp on Thursday or Friday that week, and we went to lunch with Mark, her band director and my supervising teacher. I thought she was pretty cute; she thought I had brown eyes.
As the months went by I continued building my relationships with students, staff, and parents. Lynn and I held pretty regular conversations, mostly small talk, with good old Bob a constant companion - gotta stay hydrated!!
By the time Christmas was approaching, she knew that I went to Kalamazoo each week for class. She asked me one day if I could do her a favor: she had a package for her daughter that needed to arrive before Dana left for break, so would I mind maybe driving it down there and hand-delivering it on Wednesday? "Absolutely. No problem at all."
Though her total sham of a plan didn't work the way it was intended, I did get to see this wonderful young lady that Wednesday afternoon. We chatted for a while before I had to get to class and she had to return to cleaning her bathroom (the romance started pretty early...), so she took the unopened package with her and we parted company. What was in the package?? A pair of completely unnecessary-to-be-delivered-by-Wednesday mistletoe earrings... The scheme was that Dana would open the package and exclaim, "oh, look, mistletoe!" and we would hold them up and smooch. Riiigggghhht... Nice try, Lynn.
There's more to the rest of the story, most of which deals with brother Greg pestering me to ask her out, which I finally did when she visited school on the day before K-12 break began. I invited her to my upcoming graduation party, we had another date or two over the Christmas holidays, and then we were pretty much seeing each other weekly. The rest, as they say, blah, blah, blah. At some point Dan and Lynn moved to Columbia, TN when Dan took a job at newly-formed Saturn Corp.
**The full disclosure system was still being worked out at that time, and besides, Lynn didn't mention until later that the Bob Jones mug had anything to do with why she thought I would be a good match for her daughter... Suffice it to say I never knew that, and she had no idea that the Lutheran band teacher-to-be would end up a beer-brewing Democratic liberal. Maybe we both would have run the other way, but God apparently had other plans.**
But through it all there was Lynn. Dana's mom/my mother-in-law was always a caring and giving person. I mentioned to Greg during band camp that I liked lemon meringue pie; the next day there was a slice in the band office - leftover dessert from the previous night. Several years later when I was teaching in South Bend, she invited me and a friend to Tennessee for spring break. Brian and I took our bikes and enjoyed the southern weather and Dan and Lynn's southern hospitality. "Be sure to tell me what you two need on your training table - fruits, oatmeal, etc. - and I'll make sure I have it." She also had grits, eggs, and biscuits and gravy :)
Lynn always kept a welcoming home. Every season (every season) had decorations, tablescapes, and food. Thoughtful birthday and Christmas gifts were always given. To this day one of my favorites graces my living room - a beautiful brass sculpture of a sailboat under full sail, with an accompanying cross-stitch that reads, "Oh, God, your sea is so great and my boat is so small..." She knew I enjoyed the water and had spent time sailing with friends in high school.
When grandchildren started to arrive in 1993 she started keeping photographic records of pretty much everything, to the extent that the third bedroom in their house has been given over to scrapbooking. The final tally is some 60 books chronicling the lives of the entire family, from her marriage and early days with Dan, through Benjamin, Greg's youngest son - nine beautiful grandchildren. Each has at least one large memory book filled with pictures of great times with Grandpa (yep - since Lynn took most of the pictures, she appears in very few of them...) and the rest of the family.
When the cancer hit, Lynn was as positive as anyone. This was just another event on the road of life, God was in charge, and she would deal with things as she and Dan always had: with prayer and with each other. Through the chemotherapy and all of the uncomfortable procedures that brings, she remained upbeat and positive; pictures of her in a Rosie the Riveter outfit that she wore to her chemo treatments (proving she could fight with the best of them) even made it onto NBC's "Today" show.By February of this year there was a very large tumor in Lynn's abdomen. Surgery was scheduled and performed, but the news was very sad: there was still plenty of cancer, and Lynn was too weak for further procedures. She elected to head home, call Hospice, and be comfortable.
Dana, her father, and her sister Lori all combined to care for Lynn. Dana flew to Tennessee and spent several days around the surgery, then returned before spring break when things became worse. The care that these three individuals provided was nothing short of heroic; every need was attended, every comfort provided as Lynn approached her last days.
By the time I arrived, Lynn was too weak to stand on her own. I watched misty-eyed as my father-in-law would carefully lift her from her chair and hold her gently as he rotated her frail body to the wheel chair which would transport her to bed, her hands resting on his arms, his eyes on her as he guided her steps. I thought of them as they might have been 50-some years ago: Dan, always much taller than Lynn, gazing down at his pretty girlfriend as they danced at prom. This year would have marked their 49th wedding anniversary. (There is a funny family story about Lynn "running away from home," but as it turned out, she got married first and then moved with Dan to the Army base in Texas where Dana was eventually born...)After Easter Greg, his wife Beth, and their six children, through the amazing outpouring of support from Dan and Lynn's church, were able to make the flight from Spokane, Washington, and we were all together for several days that week. Nathan managed to drive down from MSU for Easter, and Erin did a couple of FaceTime sessions. We were sad that the cousins' paths didn't cross due to timing, but technology is a wonderful thing and we at least got some screen time.
Let's just say that the goodbyes that weekend were awful. It is always difficult for the family to head the 500 miles north after a visit, but this time was obviously different.
"Thanks for inviting me into your family 29 years ago; I hope it was as great for you as it has been for me."
"29 years? That's a long time," came the whispered response. "Take care of Dana and the kids for me."
I will, beautiful lady. I will. Rest in peace.
This was the closing hymn in church last Sunday. We sang it just after Dana received word that Lynn was very weak. Needless to say it came at a perfect time, though neither of us were able to finish all the verses...
