Pete’s wife’s call came into the 911 office. It was a busy morning with many accident calls.
The dispatcher’s first task was to figure out who to call. The driver’s license said the boy was 18. He probably went to high school. Since he was headed north, it was likely Neosho High School. So the dispatcher handed the name over to a tech, Mary Jo, to look up Neosho High’s phone number.
Arif generally goes by his middle name. Of course, his license had his legal name: Joseph A. Marshall. Mary Jo looked at the name and it rang a bell. Suddenly she knew it:
“His family goes to my church. He doesn’t go to Neosho High. He goes to Crowder College. I see him there when I go to my classes. Contact the boy’s father. His mother does not drive and would have no way to get there. Joe works at Wal Mart as a programmer.”
The dispatcher’s wife worked at Wal Mart, too. The dispatcher called her to find Joe’s extension at Wal Mart. In short order, the contact was made.
By 8:15 Joe headed north to Goodman. It would take a good forty five minutes to get there.
The dispatcher also contacted Crowder College.
By 11:00 it seemed the whole campus was in deep heartfelt prayer. It amazed us all how many on campus knew Arif, and how deeply they felt the loss.
All this time, the dispatcher was set to the task of getting proper equipment to the accident site. Goodman police were already on the scene. The Jaws of Life were called into action. Forty five minutes after they arrived, the hole was large enough to remove the contents of the car.
Finding transport was another issue. They determined early on that a helicopter was needed, but none could be found. They were all busy.
Miraculously, just as the Jaws finished their job, St. John’s helicopter landed at the site.
God was gracious to send him to St. John's. It is one of the best hospitals in the state. He got the best of care. In addition, Joe and I had the comfort of its beautiful chapel and a daily – sometimes several times a day – the chance to sit in the Presence of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.
The boy was unconscious. The left side of his body was extensively damaged – it was probably crushed. There was doubt whether he would make it to the hospital. But the task was to transport him.
Soon after the helicopter took off, Joe arrived at the scene.
The left side of Arif’s car was crushed, plus the effects of the Jaws of Life. When Joe saw the car, he could not imagine how anything could have come out of it alive.
Steve wrapped a big hug around Joe and described what happened. Joe barely comprehended, but he appreciated Steve’s warmhearted zest.
The back axle of Steve’s trailer was seriously bent, requiring Steve to spend the day in Goodman waiting for the trucking company to send a tow truck. He holed up at Dari Twist, the only diner in town.
The diner, next to the gas station, was owned by the McCulleys. They were members of our home school group and also good friends. Arif bought the Oldsmobile Toronado Trofeo from them. If he had been in his S-10, the outcome would have been much different. We gave the S-10 to a woman who had no vehicle while he was in England the previous semester.
Showing posts with label Name. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Name. Show all posts
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Chapter 3, Part 3: Last Box of Toothpicks
Apparently, Arif headed for school but forgot his last box of industrial strength toothpicks. You know, the ones that hold up the eyelids when they feel like they are made of lead. After he stopped for gas in Anderson, he struggled to keep his eyes open. The driver who followed him from Anderson to Goodman said that he had trouble keeping on track. It was obvious he was fighting falling asleep.
At 7:45, in Goodman entering the 60-mile-an-hour speed zone, Arif lost the battle and fell sound asleep. The truck driver, Steve, later related that he could see Arif's face as he approached heading the opposite way. There was no reaction. Steve knew that Arif was asleep at the wheel. It took a lot of prayer and all the concentration he could muster as Steve attempted to keep his load – 47000 pounds of steel pipe – in balance. With heroic effort, Steve kept an eye on Arif, the traffic behind Arif, and the traffic behind his own rig, earnestly praying that none of them would get hurt and that his load would not dump. Steve eased his truck onto the shoulder. Thank God there was more shoulder than often is the case in these parts. Steve’s prayers paid off, too – mostly. With all those eyes, the guardian angels on duty must have been cherubim because no one but Arif and the back of the truck were involved in the crash. Arif’s car hit the very back wheel of Steve’s trailer and bounced off. Joe later estimated that the impact was equivalent to traveling at 120 miles an hour.
Pete, a teacher residing in Goodman, spoke of hearing what sounded like an explosion. He ran from his house to see Arif's car spinning across the road, coming to rest on the right shoulder. Apparently, Arif's Toronado bounced off the back wheel of the trailer with enough force to bend the axle and pop the tire. Thank God he had just purchased the Toranado from some friends. He might have fared even worse had he been in the S10.
As his wife dashed back to the house to call 911, Pete walked to Arif's window to talk to him, and to keep anyone else away:
"What is your name?"
"Arif Marshall"
"How old are you?"
"18."
"What does your father do?"
"A ... tea ... cher....."
He could get no more response from Arif.
At 7:45, in Goodman entering the 60-mile-an-hour speed zone, Arif lost the battle and fell sound asleep. The truck driver, Steve, later related that he could see Arif's face as he approached heading the opposite way. There was no reaction. Steve knew that Arif was asleep at the wheel. It took a lot of prayer and all the concentration he could muster as Steve attempted to keep his load – 47000 pounds of steel pipe – in balance. With heroic effort, Steve kept an eye on Arif, the traffic behind Arif, and the traffic behind his own rig, earnestly praying that none of them would get hurt and that his load would not dump. Steve eased his truck onto the shoulder. Thank God there was more shoulder than often is the case in these parts. Steve’s prayers paid off, too – mostly. With all those eyes, the guardian angels on duty must have been cherubim because no one but Arif and the back of the truck were involved in the crash. Arif’s car hit the very back wheel of Steve’s trailer and bounced off. Joe later estimated that the impact was equivalent to traveling at 120 miles an hour.
Pete, a teacher residing in Goodman, spoke of hearing what sounded like an explosion. He ran from his house to see Arif's car spinning across the road, coming to rest on the right shoulder. Apparently, Arif's Toronado bounced off the back wheel of the trailer with enough force to bend the axle and pop the tire. Thank God he had just purchased the Toranado from some friends. He might have fared even worse had he been in the S10.
As his wife dashed back to the house to call 911, Pete walked to Arif's window to talk to him, and to keep anyone else away:
"What is your name?"
"Arif Marshall"
"How old are you?"
"18."
"What does your father do?"
"A ... tea ... cher....."
He could get no more response from Arif.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Part 5: What's in a Name?
The Presentation in the Temple (the Fourth Joyful Mystery) leads us to think about the Holy Family fulfilling the Law of Moses, initiating their Child into their religious community:
On the eighth day of a child’s life, the Jews celebrate bestowing a carefully chosen name on the child. Joseph gives this Child the Name, Jesus, as the angel instructed him in a dream.
Forty days after a boy is born, the parents bring him to the temple, present him to the Lord, and redeem him by an offering – a picture of our infant baptism. When the Holy Family proceeds to fulfill this law, as many poor people do they present two turtle doves.
Two elderly people, Anna and Simeon, greet the Family. They joyfully offer confirmation of the mission of this Child. Simeon goes so far as to declare that the Boy’s mission will be a source of controversy. He also predicts deep sorrow for His mother.
The details of this story can be found in the middle of the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke.
As I think about St. Joseph bestowing the Name on his foster son, I remember how many times people questioned us about Arif’s name.
I need to take a few steps back before answering.
Arif’s father and grandfather share the name ‘Richard Joseph Marshall.’ Grandpa goes by ‘Dick.’ Papa is called by his middle name: ‘Joe.’ A family story tells that at some point, his parents gave their son the choice to be called ‘Dickie’ or ‘Joey,’ and he chose the latter.
As is often the case, we wanted our first born son to be named after his father. So that left us with the choice of putting a numeral after his name (III) or being more creative.
On the one hand, a numeral after a man’s name bears a sense of nobility. It gives a sense of a family legacy of success and elegance.
My oldest brother (may he rest in peace) carried the numeral III. It seems he bore it as a badge of the darker aspects of his heritage. Both Edward Radke I and II had background stories that would make you cry. Ed seemed to pick up not their strengths, but their weaknesses. He was often teased by being given the nickname ‘Da Turd.’
I had no intention of allowing my son even the possibility of being subjected to this sort of treatment. After all, his very existence was a miracle.
I grew up Catholic, and have always had a special place in my heart for St. Joseph. My godfather is named Joe as is another favorite uncle.
As Rachel from Genesis, I felt I was given a gift, ending my infertility. Granted, it came with much less pain and anguish than she experienced. A child would surely add to our joy (the Bible gives us the meaning in the story of Rachel's son). So, if our child was a boy, we would keep the name Joseph.
Joe, on the other hand, traveled far and wide in his spiritual journey: He was baptized in a Methodist church. In Junior High School, he experienced being ‘born again’ with his Baptist friends. The Lutheran church confirmed him.
Joe’s first love is music. It is the highest form of worship he encountered. So, in college, he joined a Sufi community. Their worship centers around music from a variety of musical traditions and borrows from all religions.
In the Sufi community, Joe was given the name ‘Arif.’ He was told that the name means: ‘the one who understands the deeper side of life.’ We have since confirmed that meaning with people from an Arabic background. We also found that it refers to a military leader. One man told us that an arif is the one a teacher chooses to lead and supervise his classmates.
Wow! That is a lot to fit into four letters! We liked the way it sounded.
When we met, half of the man's friends called him Joe, and the other half called him Arif. So we decided too keep both names – Joseph and Arif. The next question would be what order they would take. He would be called Arif either way.
Once the baby was born, Joe announced to his co-workers that he had a son. The name he announced was ‘Joseph Arif Marshall.’ So that is the name listed on all his official documents. He is called by his middle name and often signs ‘J. Arif Marshall.’ There is an air of nobility about using a first initial.
So he was Christened with a name which means: ‘the one who adds understanding to the deeper side of life.’ Joe often remarked that we are a lot smarter since he came along. Additionally, since his first name comes from the Hebrew, and his middle from Arabic, perhaps he is destined to be a peace maker.
Because of the diagnosis of endometriosis, and the doctor’s prognosis, Joe and I vowed our children dedicated to God’s service,
When he was four weeks old, we brought him to be baptized. It was also our first anniversary, so we also renewed our marriage vows.
As the children grew, we practiced an active prayer life. Each day we gathered to pray the Rosary. We took our time, telling the stories between the prayers and relating them to our daily life. The youngsters never seemed to notice – or care – how long it took.
When Arif was eight years old, the family traveled to Massachusetts to research the family history on my side of the family. My Uncle Joe’s wife, Ann, is a very faith filled woman. She advised us to visit a nearby shrine. The shrine promotes a devotion to the Divine Mercy. There, we learned prayers which led us to meditate on the abundant mercy of God. On the way home from Massachusetts, we were shown that the prayers carry great power. The devotion became a daily habit upon our return to Alabama. The growth in our family’s spiritual life seemed to hit warp speed with its practice.
I prayed that all those who encountered Arif throughout whatever happened would be drawn closer to God – that he would add to their understanding and foster a deeper faith.
On the eighth day of a child’s life, the Jews celebrate bestowing a carefully chosen name on the child. Joseph gives this Child the Name, Jesus, as the angel instructed him in a dream.
Forty days after a boy is born, the parents bring him to the temple, present him to the Lord, and redeem him by an offering – a picture of our infant baptism. When the Holy Family proceeds to fulfill this law, as many poor people do they present two turtle doves.
Two elderly people, Anna and Simeon, greet the Family. They joyfully offer confirmation of the mission of this Child. Simeon goes so far as to declare that the Boy’s mission will be a source of controversy. He also predicts deep sorrow for His mother.
The details of this story can be found in the middle of the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke.
As I think about St. Joseph bestowing the Name on his foster son, I remember how many times people questioned us about Arif’s name.
I need to take a few steps back before answering.
Arif’s father and grandfather share the name ‘Richard Joseph Marshall.’ Grandpa goes by ‘Dick.’ Papa is called by his middle name: ‘Joe.’ A family story tells that at some point, his parents gave their son the choice to be called ‘Dickie’ or ‘Joey,’ and he chose the latter.
As is often the case, we wanted our first born son to be named after his father. So that left us with the choice of putting a numeral after his name (III) or being more creative.
On the one hand, a numeral after a man’s name bears a sense of nobility. It gives a sense of a family legacy of success and elegance.
My oldest brother (may he rest in peace) carried the numeral III. It seems he bore it as a badge of the darker aspects of his heritage. Both Edward Radke I and II had background stories that would make you cry. Ed seemed to pick up not their strengths, but their weaknesses. He was often teased by being given the nickname ‘Da Turd.’
I had no intention of allowing my son even the possibility of being subjected to this sort of treatment. After all, his very existence was a miracle.
I grew up Catholic, and have always had a special place in my heart for St. Joseph. My godfather is named Joe as is another favorite uncle.
As Rachel from Genesis, I felt I was given a gift, ending my infertility. Granted, it came with much less pain and anguish than she experienced. A child would surely add to our joy (the Bible gives us the meaning in the story of Rachel's son). So, if our child was a boy, we would keep the name Joseph.
Joe, on the other hand, traveled far and wide in his spiritual journey: He was baptized in a Methodist church. In Junior High School, he experienced being ‘born again’ with his Baptist friends. The Lutheran church confirmed him.
Joe’s first love is music. It is the highest form of worship he encountered. So, in college, he joined a Sufi community. Their worship centers around music from a variety of musical traditions and borrows from all religions.
In the Sufi community, Joe was given the name ‘Arif.’ He was told that the name means: ‘the one who understands the deeper side of life.’ We have since confirmed that meaning with people from an Arabic background. We also found that it refers to a military leader. One man told us that an arif is the one a teacher chooses to lead and supervise his classmates.
Wow! That is a lot to fit into four letters! We liked the way it sounded.
When we met, half of the man's friends called him Joe, and the other half called him Arif. So we decided too keep both names – Joseph and Arif. The next question would be what order they would take. He would be called Arif either way.
Once the baby was born, Joe announced to his co-workers that he had a son. The name he announced was ‘Joseph Arif Marshall.’ So that is the name listed on all his official documents. He is called by his middle name and often signs ‘J. Arif Marshall.’ There is an air of nobility about using a first initial.
So he was Christened with a name which means: ‘the one who adds understanding to the deeper side of life.’ Joe often remarked that we are a lot smarter since he came along. Additionally, since his first name comes from the Hebrew, and his middle from Arabic, perhaps he is destined to be a peace maker.
Because of the diagnosis of endometriosis, and the doctor’s prognosis, Joe and I vowed our children dedicated to God’s service,
When he was four weeks old, we brought him to be baptized. It was also our first anniversary, so we also renewed our marriage vows.
As the children grew, we practiced an active prayer life. Each day we gathered to pray the Rosary. We took our time, telling the stories between the prayers and relating them to our daily life. The youngsters never seemed to notice – or care – how long it took.
When Arif was eight years old, the family traveled to Massachusetts to research the family history on my side of the family. My Uncle Joe’s wife, Ann, is a very faith filled woman. She advised us to visit a nearby shrine. The shrine promotes a devotion to the Divine Mercy. There, we learned prayers which led us to meditate on the abundant mercy of God. On the way home from Massachusetts, we were shown that the prayers carry great power. The devotion became a daily habit upon our return to Alabama. The growth in our family’s spiritual life seemed to hit warp speed with its practice.
I prayed that all those who encountered Arif throughout whatever happened would be drawn closer to God – that he would add to their understanding and foster a deeper faith.
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