We Remember
It's December 31st and the young missionaries have been instructed to be back at their flats by 5:00 tonight so that they will be safe through the New Years Eve festivities. Apparently, Australians celebrate the season with a little greater enthusiasm than other cultures.
Last night, Evelyn and I sat and visited about what December 30th has become, for us. It was 24 years ago that Joseph left this earth and it seems that some of the memories are as vivid as if they were yesterday. How does a father's heart, or a mother's, ever get past the experience of losing a child. It's out of order. We're supposed to bury our grandparents and parents, but not a child.
December 30, 1995 had been such a good day. That morning Joseph had borrowed my pickup to take the boy scouts around and pick up the discarded Christmas trees from around the town of Issaquah. He'd gotten back in time to grab his ski gear and head out the back door to drive up to Alpental where he was a ski instructor for the first year students. Most of them were under the age of 5 and Joseph loved working with them. The job also got him a season pass to the ski resort which was important to him. He was wearing a new yellow jacket and his equipment was also new. He'd put duct tape over the top of the skis so he wouldn't be upset if the little kids skied across the top of his skis when he was teaching them how to snow plow down the mountain. Saturday, in our house, was a day to complete chores so they wouldn't be bothering us on Sunday. Evelyn had the older boys doing their own laundry but that day was so busy for Joseph that she'd done his clothes for him. Joseph got back and hurried to get showered, put on his favorite cologne and then came by the family room where I was watching a Sonics game with Adam. He told me where he was going and that
David Harris was picking him up. As we always did, when saying goodbye we said. "I love you". As he was walking through the laundry room, toward the back door, he thanked his mom for doing his laundry. Maybe an hour later, I was vacuuming the office and humming, "Saturday is a special day" when I heard the phone ring. I put the vacuum upright, turned it off and reached for the phone on my desk. What I heard, at first sounded like a prank call, someone was yelling and I could not understand what was being said, I almost hung up and then I heard the word "accident". It was one of Joseph's friends who had been in another car just ahead of David Harris' car. I couldn't get too many details expect a general location. I hung up, called to Evelyn and we jumped in the truck to drive toward that area. Before we had gone, less than a mile from our home, there was a police car blocking off a road. It was a female officer and when we got out of the car she said there had been an accident and power lines were down. We explained that our son might be involved but she wouldn't let us pass until the people on the other end of the radio gave approval. It was dark and a light mist had been falling. I found my way to the back of the cruiser where nobody would see me and fell on my knees. I begged God that Joseph was alright. After what seemed forever, the radio sounded in the patrol car and the officer asked us to follow her down the road. We had to stop about 200 yards short of where lights were flashing on multiple vehicles including an ambulance, The officer that approached us wouldn't look at us and that was another indication of terrible news. Finally, she told us that Joseph was dead and then asked us if we wanted to see him. My first response was no because I didn't want to remember him that way but she said that he looked fine. They escorted us into the middle of the road where Joseph had been laid on a tarp. We knelt next to him while everyone seemed to back off to give us space. Evelyn's tears just fell on him as we looked at our handsome Joseph lying there. I've never wanted, so badly, to just have my heart stop because I just couldn't believe this was happening. I placed my hands on the top of his head and wanted to give him a blessing. I wanted to tell him to wake up, to get up, to breathe and I wanted to use the priesthood to bring a miracle. All I could say was, "in the name of Jesus Christ, Joseph Ryan Weber, go home."
Joseph was killed instantly from the impact of the car hitting the power pole. David would show signs of life and would be transported to a hospital where he was declared dead. The two boys in the back seat would survive, one with only minor injures and the boy would require several months in the hospital with numerous surgeries.
After Evelyn and I drove back to our house we gathered up our sons. Matthew was picked up at the Church dance and brought home and Jake came from a group of friends that were having a party. Our Bishop came to the home and so did our wonderful home teacher. Each of us were given a priesthood blessing and there was an incredible sense of calm that permeated our home. It wouldn't last but a few minutes because of the stark reality that Joseph was gone but, for a moment, we felt peace in the great plan of happiness.
I'm not sure why I shared those memories instead of giving a report on our experiences here in Australia but perhaps that is the reason we're here in a foreign country, over 8,000 miles from our family. It's because we know something that many other people don't know; that families can be together forever and there is a knowledge, and a recipe, for being together again. I am confident that we will hold our son, Joseph, again, that our tears will be wiped away and that we'll have a "completeness" were there is currently a cavity. If anyone reading this has doubts as to the divinity of Jesus Christ, the restoration of the gospel in its fullness, or the purpose of a living prophet, then give me a call and we'll talk, because I have found out for myself that it is all true. President Russell M. Nelson is a Prophet, the Book of Mormon is like unto the Bible and testifies of Jesus Christ, and the atonement, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ are real.
Last night, Evelyn and I sat and visited about what December 30th has become, for us. It was 24 years ago that Joseph left this earth and it seems that some of the memories are as vivid as if they were yesterday. How does a father's heart, or a mother's, ever get past the experience of losing a child. It's out of order. We're supposed to bury our grandparents and parents, but not a child.
December 30, 1995 had been such a good day. That morning Joseph had borrowed my pickup to take the boy scouts around and pick up the discarded Christmas trees from around the town of Issaquah. He'd gotten back in time to grab his ski gear and head out the back door to drive up to Alpental where he was a ski instructor for the first year students. Most of them were under the age of 5 and Joseph loved working with them. The job also got him a season pass to the ski resort which was important to him. He was wearing a new yellow jacket and his equipment was also new. He'd put duct tape over the top of the skis so he wouldn't be upset if the little kids skied across the top of his skis when he was teaching them how to snow plow down the mountain. Saturday, in our house, was a day to complete chores so they wouldn't be bothering us on Sunday. Evelyn had the older boys doing their own laundry but that day was so busy for Joseph that she'd done his clothes for him. Joseph got back and hurried to get showered, put on his favorite cologne and then came by the family room where I was watching a Sonics game with Adam. He told me where he was going and that
David Harris was picking him up. As we always did, when saying goodbye we said. "I love you". As he was walking through the laundry room, toward the back door, he thanked his mom for doing his laundry. Maybe an hour later, I was vacuuming the office and humming, "Saturday is a special day" when I heard the phone ring. I put the vacuum upright, turned it off and reached for the phone on my desk. What I heard, at first sounded like a prank call, someone was yelling and I could not understand what was being said, I almost hung up and then I heard the word "accident". It was one of Joseph's friends who had been in another car just ahead of David Harris' car. I couldn't get too many details expect a general location. I hung up, called to Evelyn and we jumped in the truck to drive toward that area. Before we had gone, less than a mile from our home, there was a police car blocking off a road. It was a female officer and when we got out of the car she said there had been an accident and power lines were down. We explained that our son might be involved but she wouldn't let us pass until the people on the other end of the radio gave approval. It was dark and a light mist had been falling. I found my way to the back of the cruiser where nobody would see me and fell on my knees. I begged God that Joseph was alright. After what seemed forever, the radio sounded in the patrol car and the officer asked us to follow her down the road. We had to stop about 200 yards short of where lights were flashing on multiple vehicles including an ambulance, The officer that approached us wouldn't look at us and that was another indication of terrible news. Finally, she told us that Joseph was dead and then asked us if we wanted to see him. My first response was no because I didn't want to remember him that way but she said that he looked fine. They escorted us into the middle of the road where Joseph had been laid on a tarp. We knelt next to him while everyone seemed to back off to give us space. Evelyn's tears just fell on him as we looked at our handsome Joseph lying there. I've never wanted, so badly, to just have my heart stop because I just couldn't believe this was happening. I placed my hands on the top of his head and wanted to give him a blessing. I wanted to tell him to wake up, to get up, to breathe and I wanted to use the priesthood to bring a miracle. All I could say was, "in the name of Jesus Christ, Joseph Ryan Weber, go home."
Joseph was killed instantly from the impact of the car hitting the power pole. David would show signs of life and would be transported to a hospital where he was declared dead. The two boys in the back seat would survive, one with only minor injures and the boy would require several months in the hospital with numerous surgeries.
After Evelyn and I drove back to our house we gathered up our sons. Matthew was picked up at the Church dance and brought home and Jake came from a group of friends that were having a party. Our Bishop came to the home and so did our wonderful home teacher. Each of us were given a priesthood blessing and there was an incredible sense of calm that permeated our home. It wouldn't last but a few minutes because of the stark reality that Joseph was gone but, for a moment, we felt peace in the great plan of happiness.
I'm not sure why I shared those memories instead of giving a report on our experiences here in Australia but perhaps that is the reason we're here in a foreign country, over 8,000 miles from our family. It's because we know something that many other people don't know; that families can be together forever and there is a knowledge, and a recipe, for being together again. I am confident that we will hold our son, Joseph, again, that our tears will be wiped away and that we'll have a "completeness" were there is currently a cavity. If anyone reading this has doubts as to the divinity of Jesus Christ, the restoration of the gospel in its fullness, or the purpose of a living prophet, then give me a call and we'll talk, because I have found out for myself that it is all true. President Russell M. Nelson is a Prophet, the Book of Mormon is like unto the Bible and testifies of Jesus Christ, and the atonement, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ are real.
Thanks for sharing - A
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