Stories From the Road
Through the years, I have listened to the stories of the people who have come to concerts and speaking opportunities. It seems like each opportunity, someone would come up to me and say, "I have a story". Story is the vehicle we use to make meaning out of our lives. I could tell each time that it was important to them to tell me their story. But also, inevitably, it would touch my heart and strengthen my belief that there is a story that lies deep within each of us. So many people have never told their story or had the opportunity to tell their story and when they do.... it changes something inside of them and all those that hear it. Lately, as Legacy Road has brought responses from so many individuals....I have heard their stories and I have started asking them to write them down for the website. I believe that their stories can encourage others and give others courage to address their challenges. Thats what Stories From the Road is composed of......the stories we hear along Legacy Road. If you take the time to read these stories, you will notice that they come from different kinds of people with diverse backgrounds.
What is your story?
Write it down and send it today....it will change your life to have the courage to write it and it may even change the lives of others who read it....This Dream Lives On....Come join us.
Thank You God
By Bo Brown - Hartsville, S.C.
October 11, 2009 started out as a normal day. We got up and went to church and D, Amber, Heyward, and Laurie Beth came over for lunch. After lunch, Heyward (3 year old grandson) and Laurie Beth (6 month old grand daughter) stayed with us for the afternoon. Heyward and I decided we would ride out to our farm in Lee County and play on the tractor and look around the farm. We rode around and did some bush hogging and then got off of the tractor to look over an area where they had been cutting timber. We got back on the tractor and rode back across the bridge and got off again to look around. Then all of a sudden I got really dizzy and everything began to go into slow motion. My vision blurred and as Heyward talked to me, I could barley hear him. As he talked and I looked at him it was like I was far away from him. In a few minutes, the dizziness passed and we got back on the tractor to cut some more grass. I made one pass and was headed back and then had the dizziness and dream like state again. As I was going down the strip, my father was coning up in his truck. I stopped and turned the tractor off and as he talked to me I could barely hear him and he looked like he was a long way from me when it was actually only 10 feet. Again the feeling passed and I cranked the tractor and Heyward and I headed back to the barn to put the tractor up. We got in the barn and off the tractor and locked the barn up. As we were talking to daddy, I became the feeling came back again and I almost ask for a ride to town. As it passed again, I decided to drive back myself. I remember getting Heyward in the truck and leaning his seat back. We got to the end of the driveway and I remember looking over at him and he was almost asleep. From that point (about a 20 minute drive from the farm) until I got home and out of the truck and inside with Heyward in my arms to lay him on the couch. I remember Lucy telling me not to lay him there because Laurie Beth was asleep on the couch. I moved down and dropped him on the couch and fell back in the recliner. I remember telling Lucy that I was really dizzy. I thought I was talking to her the whole time what I was actually not able to speak. The next thing I remember was being in the emergency room. I remember Lucy telling them that I couldn’t speak and that my left side went limp while I was in the recliner at home. I had several test run and on Monday had several others run. That is when the doctors told me that I had a stroke and that other test would be run. Tests were run on Tuesday and then I was told that my carotid artery at the base of my brain had torn and dissected and that I would be moved to Lexington medical Center in Columbia. At this point, I as well as Lucy and my family were pretty worried and not sure what would happen. On Tuesday night I was transported to ICU in Lexington and on Wednesday morning, they ran more tests to confirm the finding at Carolina Pines in Hartsville. I remember Dr. Norton coning in the room and telling Lucy and I that there was a tear and that a stint was not an option as it was to close to the brain. He also told us that surgery was not a good option and that he would give me blood thinner and let it heal on its on. I spent from Tuesday night until Thursday night in ICU in Lexington. While in ICU, they did a cardio and neurological workups and lots of blood work. I was moved Thursday night to a room and stayed there until Sunday while they regulated my coumadin and got all of the tests results back. None of the tests showed any problems and Dr. Norton told us there was no medical explanation for what happened.
During the time in the hospital praying and being prayed for, I know in y heart and soul that God and my guardian angels delivered me and Heyward off of the tractor and back home safely. I also know that the tear and where it was that God was with me the entire time. After getting back to Hartville and going to Dr. Bell (my physician here), I was once again reminded that God was with me and delivered me. Dr. Bell told me on the Monday that I got back that he doesn’t take weekend call anymore and hadn’t been on call in almost a year. He said he decided on Saturday that he would take call on Sunday for one of his new doctors and was in the hospital making rounds when I arrived. He also told me that when he spoke with Dr. Norton, he felt he was a good Christian and that he was the right doctor for me to see.
I am not sure why all this happened or what God has in store for me, but I defintely believe I have been given another chance. I thank God for Lucy and all she’s done as I could not have done it without her. I also give thanks for all of the prayers of others during this time. It’s so easy to get caught up in your own little world and take many things for granted. I can think back on all of the petty things that get you upset and problems you think you have. You also don’t realize the friends you really have until something like this happens. I pray that I can be still and listen for God’s command for my life. Thank you God for my life and the chance to see my wife, my son and his wife, my grandchildren, again. God, help me to be patient and not take so many things for granted and be patient and follow your will for my life.
With all that happened, I have no residual effects from the stroke and no medical restrictions. I am truly blessed. Thank you God.
This is a Legacy story from a friend I met through e-mail who found the Legacy Road website. Patrick DeLaney met Gene Cotton in the early 80's at Valencia Community College in Florida and never forgot the experience. After writing me on the website, I called and asked him to please write his story down and share with others. It touched my heart and I know it will yours if you take the time to read it. This is Patrick's story...what is your legacy?
I am a legacy, because before I was, there was more than simple history, there
was destiny. Sometimes, to me at least, my life seems as predictable a jazz
ensemble in a jam session. Yet, I know that in spite of my inability to read the music
God places before me, there indeed is a rhythm, harmony, melody and a dynamic
purpose to my life.
Music has always been a present force in my life. My Mom and Dad often told me
when I was growing up that I started singing before I could talk. Like most who
grew up in the 1960’s I remember watching The Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show
and learned, quickly, that I preferred singers who were not described as
crooners.
During the late 70's I was the lead singer in rock and roll cover band ,
however, center of my musical universe has been and will always be singer –
songwriters.
One singer- songwriter that I grew to like and respect during that time was Gene
Cotton. Gene’s music, to me, seemed genuine, which was something that was sorely
lacking in the shake your booty days of the mid/late 70’s.
In 1980, while visiting my Aunt & Uncle in Florida, I learned that Gene would be
playing at a nearby College. I remember that afternoon as if it was today.
It was evident to me that Gene Cotton was more than just a musician that sang
songs, he spoke with humilty and communicated words of truth and life.
I often say, one word God never says is. Oops. God not only knows the score He
writes the score of my life. Although I grew up in a home of faith, when I was
22 hears old I Had a desire to personalize my faith journey.
The foundations of faith, the legacy, that had been placed in my heart remained,
however I had to find the road that would become my legacy of faith.
Legacy is the fruit, good or bad that is born of combined heritage of beliefs
and actions.
My beliefs, faith in Jesus, were confronted with a legacy moment on May 7th
1984.
The car that I was driving, for reasons I’ll probably never know, drifted into
the path of an oil tanker, we hit head-on. My wife and our 6-week-old Ryan
Patrick, although in the back seat, they were unrestrained. They both died at
the scene of the accident.
Hope, dreams, my vision of what my legacy was to be was gone in an instant.
I went from being a new Daddy to being alone and near death.
The rhythm, harmony, melody and dynamic purpose of the Lord began to unfold in
the hours, days and weeks that followed. Friends, some that I knew others that I
may not meet till I get to heaven, prayed. They gave a legacy of prayer.
Others visited and simply were there, to support. Theirs is a legacy of
fellowship.
And a few dear ones had the wisdom and blessing of having the legacy of the Word
of God. Each of these was an essential of my healing and recovery.
My physical wounds although extensive and serious paled to the potentially
crippling effects such a great loss could have on my emotions and faith journey.
The balm of healing and recovery and joy and peace of restoration came alive in
my life as a direct result of the many people who were actively engaged in the
legacies of prayer, fellowship and the Word.
My legacy that has born out of this trial is the legacy of 100 % certainty that
heaven is a real place. The surety of heaven has become a source of great peace
in my life. I have dear friends who are living in Nicaragua, somehow for me at
least, Nicaragua has become more alive in my mind. Now, I know people who are
living, yes I said living, in heaven. Wow! That is amazing!
Less than one month after losing my wife and son, I was wheel chair bound and
only home from the hospital for 2 days, yet I asked for someone to please take
me to church on Sunday morning.
I sat through the praise and worship, unable to sing because my jaw had been
broken and was wired shut for 8 weeks. Despite my inability to stand and sing
the spirit rose up inside me and was echoing the declarations of praise.
As I engaged in worship, I became aware that I was engaging in the same activity
as my wife and son were in heaven, worshiping our eternal Lord.
In that moment, the Lord granted grace that permitted me to see with total
clarity and certainty the reality that heaven truly is. That is my legacy road.
Fast forward. 25 years it is now 2009; I am humbled and amazed how the Lord has
blessed my life. I have been married, happily I might add, for 24 years to my
bride Debbie. Our oldest son, Matthew is married to our wonderful
daughter-in-law, Catherine and they are both Grad students pursuing MFA in
Theatre. Michael our youngest son plays in a Christian blue grass band and is a
design student.
Recently, I set out on a googling expedition to seek the music of an old
friend, Gene Cotton. I was delighted to discover that Gene has been involved in
the music and ministry of Legacy Road with Danny Nicholson.
I was blessed that Gene was engaged in the work of Legacy Road and I immediately
sensed a kindred spirit with the ministry of Danny and Legacy Road
The term Legacy Road states in two words how I have defined my life.
The passage of God’s word that set the compass for my legacy road, states, “
don’t worry about anything but in everything with prayer and petition make your
request
To God and the peace which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts
and minds in Christ Jesus.
There is an Old Chinese Proverb, that states:
Be careful of your thoughts, for your thoughts inspire your words. Be careful of
your words, for your words precede your actions. Be careful of your actions, for
your actions become your habits. Be careful of your habits, for your habits
build your character. Be careful of your character, for your character decides
your destiny."
I HAVE ADDED THE FOLLOWING:
Be careful of your destiny for it defines your legacy.
_______________________________
My journey, my path, my legacy road must lead the way for others.
Destiny looks at life and asks, “ where am I going”, Legacy looks at life and
asks ‘how shall I live that others may find the way to their destiny”.
That is our Legacy Road.
I am a Legacy
by Patrick DeLaney
Two Places at Once
By Libba Andrews
It was 2005 and for the last year or so we (my Mother especially) had begun dreading weekends. It always seemed like Daddy’s health failed him on the weekends—Dr’s offices were closed, emergency rooms were for emergencies and did we have one or not? Could whatever it was wait for our regularly scheduled Doctor’s visit on Monday? There were a ton of questions to consider for those of us knew to malignant melanoma and all of the side effects the cancer and the treatments can cause. And be that as it was, this particular weekend surpassed all the dreaded expectations.
Family and close friends were gathered at the hospital in the ICU waiting room. Dennis, one of my dearest guy friends and mentor was being kept alive on a ventilator. Too many Marlboro Reds. COPD. He would have hated the vent and all the attention. I can hear him now, “Blondie, (that is what he called me in his most male chauvinist voice!) take me off this thing; this isn’t living.” It was Friday afternoon and we were waiting for the Dr. to make his rounds so that we could hear him definitively say that the tests concluded that there was no brain activity. The Dr. never showed. It had been a long day. We were frustrated and emotionally spent. We all went home and agreed to meet again first thing Saturday morning.
So we gathered again. By now it is midday and still no Dr. How could this Dr. be so insensetive? Where was the compassion? How could he keep us waiting like this? Here we are; we know the decison that needs to be made, but the family needs to see the Dr. one more time. At some point my cell phone rang. It was Mama, she was worried about Daddy. He wasn’t feeling good and could I come over. "I'm on my way." I left Dennis and his family and asked that they call me when the Dr. showed. I felt certain that I could leave Mama and Daddy long enough to be present when we took Dennis off the vent.
Hours passed. Daddy spent the day in bed; something he never did even after coming home from surgeries. “I just don’t feel good baby girl,” he said. The cough was horrible, it sounded like marbles deep down in his stomach rattling around. He seemed to have grown considerably weaker. I thought if I could just get him to sit up in the bed that he might cough less and maybe it wouldn’t hurt so badly. It wasn’t easy, he was dead weight, but I did manage to lift him into a sitting position. The little voice in my head said that his eyes looked different too, but I didn’t pay attention. You know how we ignore the little voice. The day turned into night and Mama and I decided that Daddy was definitely not improving and that we should get him to the Emergency Room. We called for an ambulance transport. Daddy was too weak to walk and Mama and I couldn’t carry him. The house is an old house and the doorways weren’t built with maneuvering hospital gurneys in mind. So when the EMT’s arrived they had to lift Daddy in his bed sheets and carry him to the gurney a few rooms away. It was quite a site, my stomach hurt, he had endured so much.
Still no word from Dennis’ family. In the back of my mind I’m thinking how awful the wait must be for them. Mama and I followed the ambulance to ER. Hospitals had become familiar places to us. There we sat behind the curtain waiting for the Dr. to appear. The wait wasn’t long and the diagnosis was mixed. Daddy had a little touch of pneumonia, not bad. “How long have your eyes been yellowed?” the ER doc asked. I knew his eyes looked different, but I was paying attention to the cough. The rest of the diagnosis was that the cancer was now in the liver. Mama and I just looked at each other. We’d deal with that on Monday when we went to the oncologist.
The call from Dennis’ family came while I was in the ER with Daddy. I looked at Daddy and said, “I need to run upstairs to ICU. They are about to take Dennis off the vent. You finish your breathing treatments and I’ll be back shortly.” I took the elevator to ICU to Dennis’ room. By now they knew me and just waved me on back. I got there just as they were unhooking everything. I read a Psalms, I don’t remember which one, but I do remember that it was perfect. That was the most peaceful I had seen Dennis in weeks. He seemed to be sleeping like a baby. They told us that sometime it takes the body a little while to cycle down, but that it wouldn’t be long. I said my good-byes and told Dennis’ family that I had Daddy downstairs in ER and that I needed to get back to him. They understood. Again, I asked the family to call when Dennis moved on. They said they would.
It was after midnight when we got Daddy home and back in the bed. I thought I’d stay the night, but he rolled over, looked straight at me and as only a father can said, “Go home little girl, you’ve done all you can do today.” With that I hugged them both and left for home, a 40 minute drive.
On the way home I called my sister to give her the latest on Daddy and Dennis. I also told her that my brother would be leaving tomorrow (Sunday) going down to Jackson for his middle son’s birthday. For some reason that made her mad. And I remember very clearly saying, “Good grief Martha Katherine, it’s not like Daddy is going to die tomorrow.” It had been a couple of hours since I had left Dennis and still no call from the family. Dennis always did thing his way.
Sunday morning came and I felt like I had been run over by a semi. The last few months had really taken its toll. Dennis spent the month of August in the hospital, Daddy the month of September. October was rehab for Daddy; Dennis had the same therapist in September. I called Mama, she was up and Daddy was drinking some juice. I asked her how she was doing if it was okay if I waited until later in the morning to get to them. She said she was good and daddy was okay.
The little voice went off in my head. I knew Mama was worn out too and I really ought to get on up and get going. Still no word from Dennis’ family. Sure is taking a long time for him to “cycle down” I thought. Anyway, I head for the shower and was rinsing the soap out of my hair when Andy came back and said we needed to go. Mama called and she had called for the ambulance, Daddy wasn’t well. I jumped out of the shower, threw on some warm ups, didn’t even dry my hair. Off we headed for the 40 minute ride to the hospital. I asked Andy to step on it. Half way there my cell phone rang. It was Mama, “Don’t go to the hospital,” she said. “Your Dad has passed away.”
Twenty minutes later, I got the call from Dennis’s family. You see, Daddy and Dennis were friends too. I believe that Dennis was a bit scared of dying, Daddy was okay with it. I believe Daddy went ahead to make it okay for Dennis. It will be 4 years in 2 days.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
But for the grace of God I was able to be in two places at once—ER with Daddy and ICU with Dennis; tow of the most influential men in my life.
