The Story of My Life: Tales to Close Out 2004

I couldn't move on to 2005 without divulging other events that occurred in 2004. They will not be in chronological order...for fair warning. Let's get into it.

Not long after Lydia was born, the girl in my class whom I had sent the mysterious letters to, asked if she and another girl in my class could come visit her. I told her I'd ask my parents, but I was sure it wouldn't be a problem. Her ask surprised me a little because no one else at school (not even some close friends) asked if they could come see the baby. I didn't expect them too to be clear, so that's why this was a surprise. My parents gave the okay and the Saturday they chose to come, winter in northeast Ohio struck. The white fury was dashing from the sky and turning the ground entirely white. I expected the girls to take a "snow" check, but they came. And the kicker was that they didn't have a ride so they walked in the snow all the way to my house. They were in awe of Lydia and I could tell from their expressions and being able to hold Lydia that walking in the snow was worth it to them. This was one of many experiences that made me appreciate this person and her ambitions that much more.

The new school year brought new opportunities. The teacher my sister had last year, Mr. Gilbert, decided to start up a lunchtime basketball league for 7th and 8th graders. I loved playing basketball as a kid, but it was all pick-up. I didn't hesitate to sign up. While it was efficiently run, there was plenty of chaos. The teams were arranged with certain captains, but no schoolyard pick. The captains simply recruited people and took the leftovers to fill out rosters. Then during actual gameplay, there were more than five people on each team and since there weren't any coaches, the teams did all the subbing themselves. There was a specified time limit we tried to stick to so everyone got even playing time, but when kids are in control, some minutes magically lasted longer than they should've. But all the imperfections aside, lunchtime basketball helped put a few cracks in my shell.

No matter how my day went, lunchtime basketball was always the highlight. Whether I was on the court playing in front of the entire upper class (yes everyone came and watched) or in the crowd watching other teams compete, it was an atmosphere I fed off of. My peers saw this semi-reserved, nerdy kid display some athletic ability that was a surprise to some. I remember one game I went off and scored a lot of points. And because I had a hot hand that game, my team trusted me more with the ball and what I could do. The team I played with didn't stand much of a chance against most of our opponents, but when we finally got our first win, the squad went bananas. But if you were to ask me now what made lunchtime basketball truly special? It was Mr. Gilbert sacrificing some of his own free time (which is a pretty big deal) so a bunch of kids could play basketball. He also made sure those on the sidelines had some fun by having a money ball shooting competition after games. He would tape $5 to a basketball and give kids a chance to hit a 3-point shot. First person to sink it got the cash. And if you're wondering, yes I did sink a money ball shot.

Sticking with the athletic theme, I have a PE memory that will forever be burned into my brain. Our new gym teacher, Mrs. Anderson, was no pushover. She didn't take crap from anyone and made us work. But she also made sure that PE was fun. Anytime we'd have an organized sport for PE, she'd get involved. Volleyball, kickball, dodgeball, etc. And she wouldn't hold back. By that I mean she didn't let any kid have it easy. You were going to have to be at your best if you wanted to beat her. That's why I'll never forget a single floor hockey game during a PE class. As mentioned in previous chapters, I was very good on roller blades and the Mighty Ducks were my favorite movies as a kid. And from the story I mentioned many chapters ago about playing street hockey at a local park, I never lost my love for it. So when Mrs. Anderson gave us sticks and a puck, my eyes lit up like car brights on a back country road. And to make matters more interesting, Mrs. Anderson boasted that no student had ever scored on her in floor hockey. Challenge accepted.

Mrs. Anderson split us into teams and set a goal and time limit. The time limit was in case no one scored or there was a tie. I got placed on the opposing team from the one that she put herself on. As soon as the puck dropped, it was chaos. Most kids had no coordination and swung their sticks wildly whenever the puck landed in their vicinity. While Mrs. Anderson played aggressively, she hardly played much offense because the whole point was to let the kids get the glory of the goal. But she gave no one an inch when it came to trying to score on her. She deflected shot after shot. I got a few chances and fired methodical blasts...all to no avail. I was worn, but I was going to score on her even if it meant collapsing on that hardwood floor. I quickly ran out of the action and positioned myself along the side, furthest away from her. I didn't call for the puck so as not to draw attention to myself. Then, as luck would have it, one of my teammates, awkwardly shoveled the puck over the clash of sticks. It turned up on its side and rolled like a wayward wheel that broke loose from a stock car mid-race. Now everyone knows a rolling puck is much harder to control and even harder to shoot. But I took the cards I was dealt and played them. I ignored all technique. I did not trap, set, and shoot. I simply wound my stick back and let it rip as soon as the puck reached me. The way the puck was wobbling coming in, it should've shot off wide of the goal. But that little orange puck screamed down a straight line and kissed the rubber off Mrs. Anderson's left shoe as it slid on by and between the orange cones. There were three big reactions. The first was my celebratory fist pump and shout. The second was my team celebrating as we had finally scored. The third was Mrs. Anderson shouting my name in disgust and banging her stick on the floor as I had become the first student to ever score on her in floor hockey. It was a moment I'll not forget. And the best part? I saw her 10 years later at a reunion that one of my former classmates organized and brought up that moment. She pondered for a second and then said "You know what? You may still be the only one who ever has." And she was being dead serious. 

One rainy day when coming back from our last class before lunch, a certain student had a habit of tossing his book bag from the entryway straight to his desk in the back of the classroom. This time he tossed it a bit too hard and it went straight through the plexiglass window. It popped that window out and fell all the way to the concrete sidewalk below. I wish I could've been a passerby on the street and witnessed it, but the expression on the students' faces were priceless. Both the plexiglass and the bookbag were fine, and thankfully for the student, Mrs. Beam vouched for him. 

The winter version of Mountain Top, Ignite by name, had once again come into play. This time it would be in Tecumseh, IN. It was held at a YMCA camp where we had bunk beds in heated cabins. My group was led by John Schneider. This Ignite would be very significant in the fact that it would be the first New Years Eve I spent away from home. 

Ignite was a much smaller crowd than the 1000 person mountain top, but 600ish people was still a strong crowd. My group was different this time as well. I was paired with Mark G. and Stephan H. Every group was paired with another group for the breakout times and large activities and we were teamed up with a group from Minnesota. I didn't know these guys from Adam, but I came to know a good group of guys. 

The messages for this time were something else. They were loaded with visual examples to better drive the points home. One of the first pertained to judging a book by its cover. A man was on a stool hanging a rope from the ceiling. One by one, people passed by. Each person immediately assumed he was making a hangman's noose. Before they even asked him what he was doing or tried to talk to him, they told him to stop, wait, and they were going to get help. What no person did was even look closely at the rope. Anyone who would've taken a second would've seen that the loop was too small for a person's head to fit through. The speaker explained that if anyone would've simply taken a second to talk to him and ask him his side of the story, they would've known what the rope was truly for. He then walked to the back of the stage and picked up a potted plant with a hook. He then hung the plant on the rope he had just tied to the ceiling. It was a powerful visual, especially for kids, but the fact that it still sticks with me after all these years, means it was a well established demonstration. 

Another one I remember talked about turning sadness into joy and finding the hope that is in Christ. A man came out on stage wearing all blue clothing. He was extremely sorrowful. His buddy came out wearing all yellow clothing and was bright and cheerful. The man in blue lamented in his sorrows, while the man in yellow tried to cheer him up. The man in blue refused to listen and wanted to stay in his pit of misery. But as the man in yellow continued to be there for him, the man in blue began to have a change of heart. He asked the man in yellow how he could be yellow like him. The man in yellow told him to open his heart and let the Lord in. As the man in blue began to do so, little by little, the man in yellow added yellow paint to the man in blue's clothes. Slowly the blue hue began to fade, and the bright yellow began to swallow it. The man in blue's happiness level grew. Then suddenly he cried out, "I no longer want to be blue (sad)!" I want to be yellow (happy)! The man in yellow then poured an entire bucket of yellow paint over the man in blue and he was the man in blue no more. He started exuberantly shouting "I'm yellow! I feel so happy! I'm yellow! I have Christ!" The crowd let out a thunderous applause. That was one of the coolest demonstrations I had seen throughout the weekend.

Like mountain top, there were many activities, events, and small groups throughout the time. But there were two that have stayed with me after all these years. The first was a challenge in one of the big meetings. The coordinators had been watching the groups throughout the time to see who had stood out. When they selected a group from Minnesota (not the one paired with us), the crowd applauded in approval. The challenge was for one person to have both their legs in two buckets of ice water for 15 minutes. The prize? A brand new Xbox game console (which was sold out everywhere at the time). The Minnesotans selected their person and he looked built for the task. He walked up on stage and stuck his legs in. I could tell from the look on his face that he knew this was going to be painful. The person running the challenge walked the audience through the process as he himself had to do this for wrestling years ago. As the time dragged on, the guy in the ice buckets was struggling, but refused to tap out. Finally the time was up and a roar came from the crowd. His buddies came up on stage to help him out as his legs were like jello. He had succeeded and won the Xbox for his group.

The other event was during New Year's Eve, my first away from home. As midnight approached, everyone was given a wax candle. We all went outside and formed a large circle. It was very large. Then one person came out with a lit candle. That person shared their flame with the person next to them. Then that person did the same for the person next to them. As each person passed the flame to the next, we sang Carry Your Candle. I was enthralled by the flames popping up in the dead of night. Finally, there was a ring of lit candles, each marking the person holding them. Hundreds of lights blazing in the night, all lit by one flame. A demonstration of how one person can truly make a difference in the world. With our flames blazing and our voices strong, we sang in 2005. 

And with that, we close the book on 2004, which was a very good year to me. Up next, the rollercoaster that was 2005.  

The Story of My Life: Things Are Going To Get More Crowded

I forgot to mention another crucial point in my life that should've appeared in the last chapter. The beginning of summer was loaded with anticipation. The end of it meant we would officially enter the one year mark in Cleveland. The hope of returning to the land of my childhood...Pennsylvania. But as the summer arrived, my parents had two important announcements for us. They didn't reveal them on the same day because that probably would've been too much for my young soul to handle.

The first one came in during a dinner setting, which was usually the way things were done for life altering announcements. My dad informed us that after the 10 month labor, the next year there was an opportunity for a full time service training. He was going to take part in it. Which meant we were staying another year. It was another hard pill to swallow, but not a hammering blow like the first time. I had become accustomed to my environment and the people around me. As much as I tried to full resist making super close relationships, that boat had holes. But there was a slightly harder pill to swallow. 

The other family that had left their hometown in Iowa to be part of the 10 month labor, were moving back home. My siblings and I had become really good friends with their two boys the past year, especially because they were in the same situation that we were. But now they were returning to their hometown while we were staying. It was another challenge I was going to have to face. 

I was hoping the first announcement was going to be the only big one of the year, but a month later, my parents dropped an even bigger one on me...and my siblings for that matter. It was another dinner table ordeal. Standard chit-chat was floating about until my dad mentioned they had an announcement. My mind started racing, trying to piece together what bombshell we were about to be hit with. My mom then loaded the bazooka and fired without giving us a chance to brace for impact. "We're having a baby." My fork fell out of my hands and the food in my mouth nearly escaped as my jaw was hitting the table. "Whaaat?" That's all I could muster. My brain was trying to comprehend the situation. It was panicking over where the baby was going to sleep, how much more space was going to be needed, how one van would no longer hold us all, and how my life kept changing in the blink of an eye. "And it's a girl!" my mom followed through. My brain calmed down a little at that revelation. That meant for sure that another sibling was not moving into my room. Phew. Bullet dodged.

The room had mixed reactions to that news. There was some celebration, some indifference, but definitely shock. It had been seven years since Stephen was born and three since we we lost Samuel. I thought for sure my parents were done. And at times in my young, adolescent, life, five seemed like too many. When it came to sharing rooms, trying to go places, using the bathroom, life felt rough as a kid. Yet, all minor life inconveniences that you tend to get over because at the end of the day, they're all still family. And now it was about to get bigger...but at least not until December.

August was coming to a near end and it was time to make a second return to public school. I was entering the 8th grade and this would be my final year at Riverside Elementary as high school would come calling soon enough. To say I was nervous for the first day of school in the 8th grade would be an understatement. Not only was I going to have new teachers and be in new classrooms, but I was filled with uncertainty what my little mystery letter mischief from the summer had done. Now in reality, I had this girl's email and AOL Instant Messenger screenname. I could've easily asked her about the letters, but I hung onto the thought of how fun it would be for her to tell me in person. The bus ride to school would've been excruciating, but school funding cuts ended our bus route. So we were dropped off by my parents.

I made it to the classroom before she did. I found a desk and settled in. Slowly the rest of my classmates from last year trickled in, with a few new faces as well. There was one kid who for sure wasn't going to be there because he never showed up on the first day of school. And sure enough, he didn't show. Finally she wandered in. I was trying to think of what to say when she asked me about the letters. My mind conjured all sorts of responses, but much to its dismay she did not mention the letters the first chance I spoke to her. Nor did she bring them up the rest of the day. I wrote it off to not really having time to talk due to class and hanging out with other friends. But I was still dying to know.

Later that evening, well after dinner, I turned on the computer and waited as the obnoxious dial-up tone wailed through the speakers as it connected me to the world wide web. Once connected, I loaded AIM and was delighted to see her online. I sent her a "hello" message and she replied. We made small talk for a short while and then I asked her about the letters and why she didn't say anything. She told me she didn't ask at school because she didn't want to embarrass me. There was a time I probably would've reacted negatively to that statement. But as that message came through, I gained the common sense I did not perceive earlier that day. There were a number of kids in that school that if they caught wind of something like that, they would've taken pleasure in stirring up so much drama that my life would've become miserable. She truly did me a huge favor by not asking. And then did me a bigger favor to tell me she didn't want to embarrass me. I was diving headfirst into my teenage years without looking where I was leaping. Letting untamed emotions rule and not throwing caution to the wind. She did tell me she enjoyed getting them and had a lot of fun trying to guess who I was. That helped my disappointment. I never did thank her for her way of handling that situation. Because by the time I matured and hit an age of wisdom, I had lost contact. But more on that another time.

The new school year brought many new faces. My primary teacher was now Mrs. Beam. I gained new teachers for English (Mrs. Smith), Social Studies (Mr. Shivey), and PE (Mrs. Anderson). I was delighted that I had Mrs. Morris for Science. Familiar faces included Mrs Jeric for Music, Mrs. Tillow for library, and Mr. Eagleye for art. The majority of my classmates returned for the 8th grade, but there were some who transferred schools. We did get some new faces as well. More on some of them later.

I've got a few more tales to tell about 2004, but for the end of this chapter we'll skip ahead to December. Our family of seven grew to eight, as Lydia entered the world. There were now four boys and two girls. I was in new territory being a teenager with a new baby in the fold, as my prior experience of babies was all when I was in early grade school. Life was going to teach me a few more things whether I liked it or not.

The Story of My Life: 1000 People, Baseball, and Mysterious Letters

The summer of 2004 kept sending waves for me to ride. After I surfed my first summer camp, a wave called Mountain Top crashed on in. This was another summer event for the youth, but it included Jr high, High school, and college age all as participants. It consisted of four intense and action packed days of activities, worship sessions, and group times. Mountain Top 2004 has the theme of Aspire to the Higher and was the second such event of its kind since its inception in 2003. What made this one more unique than the first was that the people putting it together had a dream and a goal. They wanted to be able to get 1000 people to attend. Hosting a four day event for a few hundred people is one thing, but doing so for a thousand was a dream. And believe it or not, I had a small hand in it.

My family was still living in the house on the front of the meeting hall property. Most of the main events were going to take place at the meeting hall so all the set-up and prep for Mountain Top was done there. Being a 13 year old kid with nothing better to on lazy summer days, I would wander over to the meeting hall and see what was going on. A lot of prep work was taking place. In one area, wood was being cut. In another, decorations were being made. Turn the corner and beach balls were being inflated. For an entire week I either helped or hindered the progress depending on how I felt that day. 

I specifically remember finding a set of walkie-talkies left alone and my mischievous side set in. I would wander the halls looking for an opportunity. Then one fell upon me. I saw and unsuspecting fellow working with 2x4s near some tall stacks of chairs. That unsuspecting fellow was Tim Reisen. If you don't recall, Tim is the son of Dan and Donna. The couple that helped bring family into the church-life and were a big part of my childhood growing up. I had known Tim for years and decided to pull a prank on him. I weaved through the stacks of chairs until I found one I liked. I turned one of the walkies on and carefully placed it down. Then I snuck away to an out-of-sight viewpoint. I flicked the other walkie on and the fun began. 

"Tiiiiiim," I spoke eerily into my walkie. "Tiiiiiiiiiim." I giggled as he turned around in confusion. I waited a pause and then spoke again. "I seeeeeee yoooouuuu!" He looked bewildered and followed the sound. It wasn't long before he found my hidden walkie. He picked it up and spoke into it. "Where are you?" "That's for me to know and for you to find out!" I said with gusto. He was too keen and eventually spotted my location. Even though he found me out, I was still happy with my mischievous plan. I went off and played my prank on a few more folks before calling it quits.

As the sun and moon traded turns rising in the sky, Mountain Top had finally arrived. It wasn't long before they came from all over the US and Canada. By the time the sun set on the on the day of arrival, 1000 people had indeed made their presence known in the 216. All the hard work of those who had worked for months to make this happen was about to come to fruition.

On the first night, I was out playing basketball in the parking lot when an older gentleman approached me. "Hi are you Josh? I'm John B and I'm your group leader." I introduced myself and we went to find the two other guys who were supposed to be part of our group. The other two members were Danny and Noah. I had never met Danny before, but Noah I had known for a year now as he was part of our youth group. With everyone now together, Mountain Top had begun. 

Each day was packed. We would come together for an altogether Power Session. You had to pick your seats wisely because that big empty room in the hall where all the prep work was being done the week prior, was now littered in a thousand chairs. There was just enough space for a narrow aisle between them so people could get in and out. The best part was when the music began. Full band set-up and a thousand people jamming along was something I had not witnessed before. At the end of the power session, there would be small groups, followed by lunch, followed by an activity, followed by another small group, followed by another activity, followed by dinner, and then the final Power Session. 

I'm not going to break down the remainder of Mountain Top day by day, but I want to highlight some things. The first was a moment that people who witnessed it still talk about to this day. The evening Power Session tended to go late. And after a long day, there was usually a snack provided. The only space to do this was in tents in the parking lot. The meeting hall is surrounded by residential homes. So imagine the noise the neighbors heard from a thousand people exiting the building at 11:30PM and carrying on for an hour while getting the snack and leaving the premises. It was a enough for at least one of the neighbors to call the police. So the very next night, before everyone exited the building, Rex, one of the coordinators, gave an announcement that asked everyone to simply get their hotdog in silence and go to their cars so as not to disturb the neighbors. Anyone could see that trying to have 1000 people, with many of them kids, be completely silent was an impossible task. But as the masses left the building that night, you could hear a pin drop in the parking lot. No one talked. 1000 people left the building in silence, grabbed a hotdog in silence, and went home for the night. The police were not called. It was a silent miracle.

The second major event was when we spent an entire day at a YMCA camp. Plenty of fun things to do including a group activity where you had to dive through a mountain of beachballs while blindfolded as your team shouted directions to where you needed to go. As the sun set, a thousand people gathered around the lake. They were about to witness baptisms. But what was supposed to be a handful of people turned into more and more. I remember at one point someone realized her friend was being baptized and in pure jubilation she dashed into the lake as she was and gave her friend a big hug. The end result was 60+ people taking a leap in their Christian walk and was sure something amazing to witness.

The third major event was a new life event for me. One of the planned activities they had was to take everyone to a Cleveland Indians baseball game. I had never been to an MLB game and this was going to be my first. Everyone donned their gray and gold mountaintop shirts and we descended upon Jacob's Field. Imagine attending a baseball game and seeing the entire upper deck in right field teeming with people in gray shirts. We were a presence for sure. I made sure to take in the sites and sounds of the ball park. We watched as the Indians battled the Oakland Athletics. The hits came and the crowd got into it. The Indians were down most of the game, but kept creeping back. And with each run, the crowd grew louder. It was in that moment why I understood why people love to attend baseball games. Unfortunately, I would not get to see the end as the game was going to run over our last scheduled Power Session of the night. We all left the stadium and returned to the hall. Now this was a time before smartphones and not everyone had established internet in their home. The next morning, John had received a free promotional newspaper on his doorstep. He went to the sports section and saw that the Indians had come back and walked it off in the 9th. My first MLB game was a walk-off and I missed it. Because I was not yet a full fledged baseball fan, it didn't bother me that much, but it became a stepping stone for my will to not leave games early. I still cherish the moments of my first ever MLB game.

The rest of Mountaintop was filled with activities, Power sessions, bonding events, and so much more. It was unlike any summer youth event I'd ever experienced and it would be the only one I'd ever experience with 1000 people. But this one was the beginning and many more were to follow.

The rest of the Summer of 2004 was filled with lazy days, hanging with my friends I had made out here, and the pure bliss of being free from the ties of a government mandated education. Now there was one significant event that took place in the waning month of July and bled into August. I've debated about sharing this story, but as it's a key cog in the wheel to my upcoming 8th grade year, I decided to include some of it.

While the summer distracted me from my failed attempt at a girlfriend in the 7th grade (mentioned in a previous chapter), I had grown fond of someone else. There was just one problem. She had a boyfriend. Being a naïve jr. high kid, I decided a fun thing to do would be to write mystery letters to her without a name or return address on the envelope. My plan was to keep her guessing until I would reveal myself right before the school year started. I had a lot of fun writing that first letter. Using big words and mysterious clues, I was sure she'd find it fun. 

After the second letter had been sealed and sent, I decided that 3 would be enough. So a couple weeks before school started, I wrote the third and penned my big reveal. I still didn't leave a return address so as not to spoil the surprise before the final letter was read. This meant I would have no idea what she thought until school began. I had put myself in an agonizing position. 

The final few weeks before school began, I was in knots. My thoughts had no direction. I would wonder if she found my little game amusing or if I would now be perceived as a dork. Did I overstep or would she it as a fun jest? Those questions would only be answered by the first bell of August. To be continued...