"Be good my children...be wise...be aware."

January 5 1988

"Now comes to the reason I’m typing this instead of writing. Oh the 5^th of December at 2:00 (1400hrs) I jumped from a C-141 aircraft and tangled my right arm on the static line of the jumper in front of me. It tore the facia apart on my forearm and tore the bicep off of my upper arm. It tore ligaments and cart ledge in my elbow and was altogether painful. I felt no pain during the descent. When I hit the ground I landed on my left side on purpose because my right arm was the injured one. When I landed I called out for the medics and for someone to hurry and give me a priesthood blessing. Someone did and the pain came on strong! I laid there on the drop zone and let the medics work on me. They strapped my arm to my side and placed me on a helicopter. I lay on the helicopter for nearly an hour (it was really 20 minutes, but it felt like an hour.) Then after all of the jumpers had exited the aircraft, I was flown to the University of Utah Hospital. I think I was in shock. I don’t remember much except thinking of the T.V. program MASH as the helicopter flew me to the hospital. In the emergency room they were going to cut my uniform off me…I stopped them and sat up and had them carefully take my shirt off and my field jacket liner off and then my T-shirt I let them cut, but my long-johns and my garments we carefully taken off also. When I finally saw my arm- I was very relieved. In my mind I thought my arm was completely stripped of its flesh. All it had on it was rope burns from the static line and it looked terribly deformed. I thought then that it must have been terribly broken. The doctors then stuck what looked to me like 8 penny finishing nails into my arm in several places. Later I found out that they were pressure gages. They needed to find out how much pressure was in my arm because of the tremendous swelling. (By the time the swelling reached its apex my arm grew to 16 inches circumference from my shoulder to my wrist.) If the pressure in my arm reached 30 on the scale, they would have to do an emergency surgery to open my arm from the wrist to the elbow. The surgery is appropriately called a fillet. This would allow the swelling to continue without damaging the muscle. The arm never reached 30 but Tuesday night it reached 28. Next I was wheeled into the X-ray room. They twisted my arm around til I thought I would cry out in pain. I NEVER DID. I moaned a little but never HOWLED. The X-ray found no broken bones. The muscles had been rearranged so badly that it appeared as though my arm was broken. As I said earlier my bicep was torn and placed in the inside of my elbow and the facia was torn open on my forearm. I spent 8 days in the hospital. I had some days that were filled with terrific pain. Some days were filled with not much pain because of the drugs. I refused to have a catheter or an enema. So when I got up to go to the bathroom I had to hurry as much as I could because every time I stood up for the first five days I would nearly faint in the bathroom… what an embarrassing predicament that would have been. Tuesday I was in my bed, minding my own business when suddenly a terrific pain shot from my wrist to my elbow. It hurt so much I had to push back the tears. The nurse came and I sent for the doctors. Finally they came and I was nearly beside myself in pain. Well, they did whatdoctors normally do…twisted it and poked at it and stuck those pressure gages in again. This time I lost it and the tears began to fall. I didn’t sob but the tears were there in abundance. I wanted mom to be there so much. I felt alone and weak. The doctors said that the pressure was 28 so I should prepare to have fillet surgery in the morning. I cried some more. Then I knew what I must do. I called mom. Then I called Rick and later that night Rick and his wife’s uncle Claren Heaton came to the hospital and gave me a blessing that I would not need surgery. Then ALL night I held my arm above my chest on three pillows. I hardly slept and was in a great amount of pain. But I held that arm up and knew that through my faith AND diligence…FAITH and ACTION…I would be fine in the morning. Morning came and they started to put those nails in my arm again and stopped. The swelling had gone down far enough that they could feel and see that I didn’t need surgery. From that night on my recovery has gone smoothly. I was released from the hospital on December the 14^th. I will have the exploratory surgery on the 13^th of January. I do not know what they will find. I do not know if they will be able to fix it. I think that they will fix it. But, nevertheless, I trust that Father knows what is best for me and I will accept whatever happens and I will make the best of the situation.

To conclude 1987 I want to know this…I have not murmured against Father. I have notcomplained because of my experience. I am able to see the blessing that has come because of the trials of this year. I will be able to find in love again. I will have more children…MANY MORE. My arm has caused me to sit still more then I’m used to. I have dived into the Book of Mormon with more intensity than I did on my mission 10 years ago. I have gained a closer relationship with Father than otherwise would have been likely.

Please do not misunderstand me! I do not tell you these things that I might be a hero, but I write these things that perhaps through my example you may gain courage. Please refrain from murmuring. Do not complain because of your lot in life. Be glad, have a cheerful heart. Heavenly Father is still in His kingdom, the Savior still lives. Call on them in your hour of despair…they are anxiously awaiting your invitation.

I have a testimony of this gospel…I know that my redeemer lived! I shout for joy at the prospect of tribulation! How wonderful it is to be refined and tempered into hardened steel. What a thrill it is to fight the current as a salmon rather than sit on the bottom of a dirty pond as a carp. Stand tall as men and women of God! Look up to that Father from whence you came, not down to that father of lies and deception. Be grateful for every pound of flesh and the breath of air. Jump for joy at the opportunity that earth life has given you. Remember that you volunteered…no one forced you to come. If you complain about this earth life it is close to saying, “Maybe I should have chosen another path.” What a terrible thing to say to a Father who has trusted you with such great missions. Don’t falter because of some little inconvenience, don’t faint because of the steepness of the climb. Ask for strength and you will receive it. The greatest of all endured the greatest suffering of all. Let us follow His example and endure in faith and strength with cheerful hearts and glad countenances.

I know my Father lives. I love Him very much. I know that my Brother Jehovah lives. My heart is filled with tenderness towards Him. I know of my imperfections. I am trying to correct them. I know that Joseph Smith is the prophet of the restoration. I know that Ezra T. Benson is the prophet, seer and revelator today. I know that the Book of Mormon is true. I can never deny this. I look with great fear and anticipation for the coming of the Savior. I fear because of my unworthiness but at the same time I want Him to come quickly because I

miss Him so.

Be good my children…be wise…be aware."

This is my Pa's story of parachuting in the army...just reading this story makes tears rush down my face. Just imagining the strongest man in the word, in pain...agony. I love him so much. Even after such horrendous events, his faith never died...but grew stronger each minute. I wish I was that strong, I totally envy everything about him.

He turned 51 on the 16th of June :)