Instant Rememberance: The Marathon Weekend

THIS is the remembrance I was thinking about yesterday. I'm sure it was triggered by a conversation I had on my morning walk with Joan Cannon. She was talking about a dress she had that her mom wore when she was queen of the Gold and Green Ball. In what world did they used to have a QUEEN at the Gold and Green Ball? Not in MY world. And in the world today, there isn't a Gold and Green Ball to be had.  But that conversation reminded me of this:

In about 1992 or somewhere there about Dave and I were called to be the Gold and Green Ball specialists for our stake. So we were working hard on that, Dick and MaryJane were putting rock on the log house they were living in next door, and my Dad, Grandpa Johnson, was Bishop of the 4^th ward for the second time. That's a random list of things, but they all come into play in the story.  So, we hired a band, the last live band to play at a Gold and Green Ball here, arranged for them to stay at our house so we wouldn't have to pay for a motel for them, met with the youth of the stake to decide on decorations, and scheduled to have people from the 4^th ward, who were in charge of decorating the ceiling to be at the church the Friday evening before the dance at 6:00. Then Dave and I headed for Salt Lake, me in the Toyota pickup and Dave in the Peterbuilt, to pick up supplies for decorations, and, while we were at it, rock for Dick and MaryJane's house. We were coming home on Friday afternoon, trying to be on time to meet the 4^th ward people at 6:00, and cutting it pretty close, when we came to the Port of Entry. Dave went through the Port, driving slowly, both of us holding our breath hoping all would be well and they wouldn't stop him, and I followed right behind him in the pickup. He was past the Port's stop light and accelerating when the light turned from green to red. I immediately knew they had turned the light too late, that Dave was already past it and hadn't seen it, but it was a no cell phone world back then and I had no way to tell him he needed to stop. So he kept accelerating, heading back out onto the highway with me following him and trying to get his attention. I was just about to merge back on to the highway behind Dave when I noticed a man RUNNING out of the Port building. He jumped into a highway patrol car and raced ahead of me, chasing after Dave. By the time I arrived to where the angry highway patrol man had Dave pulled over, they were having a bit of a heated discussion. I walked over to kindly explain to him that he had turned the light too late, Dave hadn't seen it, but he wasn't interested in hearing about the light. He was MAD because Dave didn't stop, but I think he realized Dave was innocent in THAT, so he was very excitedly yelling at Dave about his load of rock. It wasn't fully enclosed on the sides and he thought a rock might work itself loose, come flying out and hit someone. Never mind that we had already driven all the way from Salt Lake and there wasn't a loose rock on the truck, and never mind that I was following behind Dave and if a rock DID come loose and fly out, I would be the one who got hit. Nope, he was mad and Dave was going to pay. He called another highway patrol guy because MAD highway patrol guy needed to go somewhere and do something that was never clear to any of us. Luckily the new highway patrol guy was much more reasonable. I think he was a newbie. But we still had to wait until angry highway patrol guy came back. So we waited. And waited, and waited, and waited, while the nicer highway patrol guy looked more and more uncomfortable and embarrassed.

By now it was now 6:00, the time we were supposed to meet the 4^th ward people at the church with the supplies so they could start putting up the ceiling. Dave finally convinced nicer highway patrol guy to allow him take his truck down the road a few hundred feet to a hydraulics repair place and leave it so we could go on to our appointment, promising he would come back on Monday for the truck and whatever fines went with it. Meanwhile I called the 4^th ward people and asked them if they could go home for a while and meet us back at the church at 8:00, which they did. 4^th Ward people have always been the nicest people!! But, that made it so we didn't get the ceiling done until about 2:30 A.M. Instead of midnight like we were planning on. WHICH made it so I got four hours of sleep that night before I had to be back at the church by 6:00 A.M. With a load of PVC pipe covered in colored plastic that we were using for pillars. We decorated all day, the band arrived WITH THEIR SPOUSES, whom we didn't know they were bringing, so I had to make other arrangements for some of them to stay with other people because we didn't have THAT much room, we ran home and got dressed for the dance, attended the whole thing, of course, took down decorations, delivered band members to their arranged housing, and finally hit the sack, which, for Dave and I, was the pull out coach bed in the family room, at about 1:30 A.M.

I had no sooner laid my head down to rest when the phone rang. I frantically ran to answer it before it could wake our kids or the band members who were staying with us, and Mom's voice was on the other end. They were at the hospital, Dad was having a heart attack. I quickly got dressed and rushed to the hospital in time to see them loading Dad on the life flight helicopter to head for Grand Junction.

It is now early Sunday morning, and from here, the whole rest of this instant remembrance becomes somewhat of a blur, probably because I was running on four hours of sleep. I think Mom went in the helicopter with Dad. I could be wrong. She may have driven herself to Grand Junction. My assignment was to go home and get Dalen and head over. So I did, stopping long enough, while Dalen woke up and got ready, to call my siblings and let them know what was happening. By the time we got to Grand Junction Dad was stabilized and doing well. We spent the day waiting in the Waiting Room and visiting Dad when they would let us go in. I spent the day falling asleep in the Waiting Room, and waking up to find myself alone, then wandering the halls trying to find where everyone had gone. Late that afternoon, when it was sure Dad was going to be O.K., and Mom decided she and Dalen would stay in Grand Junction for the night, I headed home.

It was now Sunday evening and I had had a measly four hours of sleep since waking up Friday morning, so I was a little groggy driving home, but I made it safely, only to find the kids home alone. “Where's Dad?” I asked. “Gone to Price to get his truck,” they answered. GREAT!!! In case you've forgotten, way back on Friday afternoon, we had to leave the Peterbuilt in Price with a promise we would come back Monday and deal with whatever the Port of Entry mad guy wanted to throw at us. The perfect end to this epic weekend would be having to bail my husband out of a Price jail! So, I loaded all the kids in the car and we headed for Price. As it turns out, Dave had talked to a neighbor who used to work for the highway patrol, and the neighbor told him that unless mad Port guy put an OUT OF COMMISSION sticker on our truck, they couldn't legally hold it. So Dave decided to go bring it home before they COULD put such a sticker on it. He roped Larry, his brother-in-law, into helping him encase the load in some fencing, since that was what the mad highway patrol guy seemed to be so angry about, and was just leaving Price in his truck when we arrived. So, we turned right around and followed him home. Where there was finally sleep for me. No Jail. No arrests. No bail. The end.