"January/2009"
January 21, 2009…
It was late in the afternoon when the phone rang in my Tucson home. My middle sister Kathy was calling from Fort St. John, B.C. Canada. It seemed that earlier in the day, our dad had his first heart attack at the age of eighty-four. True to form, he had driven himself and our eighty-four–year-old mother to the local hospital. "Do you need me?" I asked. "No", she said. "He's okay now; they just wanted to keep him overnight for observation. When I left, he was ordering a TV and some books". She was going to take our mom, who suffered from severe dementia, down to the care home for the night.
It was the next morning at 3:00 am, January 21 2009, while lying awake trying to figure out what I would have to do to leave in a hurry that the phone rang. It was Kathy. "It's not good" she said. The medication that had saved his life by breaking up the blood clot to his heart had a side effect. It had caused bleeding in his brain. He was on a ventilator and unresponsive. It was only a matter of time. I needed to come. "I'll be there” …
Knocking on Shelby's bedroom door and waking my oldest daughter, I told her of Aunt Kathy's phone call and that she needed to get me to Fort St John as soon as she could. While she was on the computer, I was packing. This wasn't easy. Most folks who fly to northern Canada from Arizona do not do so on January 21st! Then a hiccup, Shelby found out due to the international travel restrictions at that time, I would have to wait six hours after I bought a ticket before I could leave the country. The earliest possible flight she could find was leaving Phoenix at 11:00 a.m. arriving in Fort St John BC 9:30 p.m. To make it we would have to drive over an hour and a half to get to Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport. With no other choice, she secured the flights. While I finished packing and preparing paperwork to leave the business with my youngest daughter Erin, Shelby ran down to the local Target to get me a small digital camera. She had just paid for it in the electronic department and was still in the back of the store when suddenly and without warning, the power went out…total darkness! Waiting in place for what seemed to be an eternity, the lights finally came on and she made a beeline to the front door. Fortunately, she had already paid for the camera, so she didn’t have to wait for the store's payment systems to power up. Back from her adventure, we left Tucson around 9:30a.m. Shelby drove, getting us to Phoenix safely and in enough time for me to board my international flight. That part was easy, but there were flights with two stops and layovers, customs and possible winter travel conditions. It was going to be tight!
It had been five months earlier at our youngest sister's August wedding that almost ALL the Vincent side of the family was living in Fort St John. This included: Mom and Dad, my younger brother Steve and wife Cindy, their family, sister Kathy, her husband Todd and family, and the newlyweds Karolyn and Darren. Being the oldest, married and living in Arizona, I had been the only sibling that didn't live there. However, it was four months previously in September, that Tad, my husband of forty-one years, had died suddenly. Now, in January, I was really the only one that wasn't there! The whole family was waiting with Dad… for me.
Our dad, Charles (Chuck) Livingstone Vincent III born September 7, 1925 in Pomona, California, was a dreamer with "itchy feet". Being a World War II vet, he had joined the navy at age seventeen. He signed up with the navy and not the army because he wanted to sleep up off the ground in a hammock instead on the ground in the mud. He served three years seeing action mostly in the reclamation of the Philippines Islands. He drove the landing crafts that were used in amphibious assaults that brought the fighting forces from the ships at sea onto shore. His only injury happened as he was standing next to a stove when somebody threw water on a grease fire.
The war ended September 2, 1945. Chuck went home to Southern California to his high school sweetheart, Mary Louise Krull. They were married on November 18, 1945 - the beginning of a love and a life together that was to span 63 years.
Over the twenty-five years previous to moving to Canada they were to move seven times: Redlands, California to Union Gap, Washington, two times, back and forth, then from Union Gap to Moses Lake, Washington. There, Dad worked for Boeing Aircraft as a flightline mechanic until that facility was closed. Mom and Dad were in a quandary. Should they move to Seattle where there was a job offer or move back to Southern California where there was no job? Well, as Mom told me… they flipped a coin! Southern California it was! We ended up in Arlington, California where Dad worked with an air service company as an A&E Mechanic, later adding a charter pilot’s license. If Dad were here, he would want me to tell you that he worked on the airplane of the famous singer/actor Danny Kaye. As Dad’s Nickname at the time was “Charley”, Danny Kaye would come into the hanger singing the current hit “Charley Brown” which pleased Dad immensely! Four years later we moved to Blythe, California-the last move in the U.S. where he worked as an A&E mechanic for a private aviation company.
Dad had been a skilled machinist, a certified Aircraft & Engine Mechanic, Charter pilot and Heavy-Duty Mechanic. In addition to all this, there were a couple of sideline businesses. As Dad, Mom, Aunt Barbara, and brother-in-law Art went to high school together in California, our families were always close. In the 50’s, both families were living in the Yakima, Washington area. As a joint venture, Dad and Uncle Art bought a truck and free-lanced hauling the wide variety of local produce. Not sure of the truck’s size, but it was big enough to have a sleeper. Even though they both had day jobs, each family would alternate trips, throwing us kids in the back while they made their runs. Sometimes there would be bumper crops from which we benefited. (This is probably where I got my aversion to watermelon.) It would be many years later while living in Blythe, California, Dad was working as a heavy-duty mechanic at Eagle Mountain Mine, Mom was teaching piano, Kathy and Karolyn were still at home, that Uncle Art (still in Yakima) and Dad would once again go into business together. Before it became “a thing”, they built a coin-operated car wash. The “Magic Wand” was one of the first of its kind and having 4-bays in the desert town of Blythe, it did well. Once again, they profited. But Dad had a dream… He wanted to move to Canada. He felt that there were more opportunities available for less money than in the states. So, applications were made for entrance status as Landed Immigrants.
To be able to move themselves, as they always did, Dad bought a 20’ van to carry and store all their worldly goods which included Mom’s piano and her Hammond B3 organ with full bass pedals and Leslie speakers. The van was also used to pull a 26’x12’ house trailer that would serve as a temporary home until a more permanent destination could be determined. The family car was packed and towed a fully packed boat and trailer. So, in 1970 with daughters Kathy (9) and Karolyn (3), they set off for Canada. After an initial two-year stopover in Ashcroft, BC, which was where they celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary, they moved 600 miles north to Fort St. John, BC located on the 47th mile of the Alaskan Highway and bought an existing Dairy Queen franchise. Friends and family commented, “There’s Charley selling ice cream to the Eskimos.” Within two years they bought the property next door and built a DQ Brazier restaurant. Oh, after a time there were more moves…the grain farm at… and…and… Whoa! Dad and Mom’s story is too big to fit between the pages of this narrative, so I’ll have to pick up their stories in a later thread.
The flight from Phoenix to the first stop at Salt Lake, Utah was uneventful. But as to the next stop Vancouver, BC, Canada? Not so much... The word came over the intercom as we were boarding that there was serious ground fog in Vancouver and a possibility that we could be diverted to Portland, Oregon. We wouldn't know until we were in the air. Oh no! There was no time for a side trip! Calling Steve, I told him the latest and to fire up a prayer chain to get me to Vancouver. Well, prayers were answered as far as not being diverted, but nearing our destination I was beginning to wonder. I have flown into Vancouver airport many times. Normally, after flying in over the Coastal Mountains you could see the whole of Greater Vancouver laid out along the coastline. But this time from the vantage point of my window seat, I couldn't see a thing! Oh, the sun was shining brightly on the mountains, but ahead and below it looked as if a thick layer of mayonnaise had been spread over all the area. Just the tops of the tallest buildings were sticking out of the fog. (CNN reported the next day that it was the worst ground fog that had been seen in many years.) I knew from prior experience that the main runways ran east to west, but we kept flying north and south paralleling the coastline. And then… the plane started to line up into a westerly landing pattern. Oh boy! Here we go! Even with a window seat, I couldn't see anything but fog below. I was snapping pictures of the tops of the hotels until we descended into the thick foggy soup. It turned dark outside the cabin as we flew through the dense fog. Then all of a sudden, we broke through and were landing safely on the ground. It was all clear! Thank God for answered prayers and instrument landing capability!
Going through Canadian customs was a breeze and so I made my way to the very end of Air Canada's terminal concourse to the Fort St John gate. As I was checking in, I noticed there was a travel advisory on the departure board next to my flight number. I asked the agent what that was all about. He said there was a big snowstorm predicted between Vancouver and Fort St John. "Will it affect my flight?" I asked. "Yes, very likely" was the answer. After a long day, I guess I was getting a little loopy because my next words were, "Don't they know I'm coming?" Without missing a beat, he said, "Yes they do, and they don't care". (Ha!) He went on to explain that there was a two-hour window and they were hoping to get us in and around the storm. As the situation was fluid, they wouldn't know until it was time to board. Then it would be, and I quote: "Load and Go!" Knowing the flight was an hour and a half, there didn't seem to be much wiggle room. So, calling Steve again, I updated him with this new information and asked him to fire up that prayer chain again, big time! Then I plugged in my phone (as if that would make any difference where we'd be going); laid in stores (oatmeal cookies and orange juice from the vending machine); and because I had my suitcase with me, I put on as many sweaters as I could. I had been told not to bring a coat because coming from Tucson I would have nothing heavy enough for their winter weather. But I was assured that a suitable coat would be waiting for me. After hearing the intercom blare "Flight# to Fort St John boarding NOW!", I barely had enough time to grab everything and call Steve to tell him, "We're going!"
I will admit to being a little nervous about this flight. Not sure about the type of airplane, but quite possibly it was a De Havilland Dash 8 that seats 78 passengers, two by two, side by side. As there was a young lady already seated by the window, I was settling into my aisle seat when she surprised me with a question: "Are you Karolyn's sister?" To which I replied, "Yes, I am." Then she said, "My name is Tonnie and I was at that wedding last summer. It was so much fun!" That's all it took; we chatted the whole flight! Oh, I felt the plane "slide" a few times, but we were so engaged in conversation, I hardly noticed.
We arrived the Fort St. John Airport on time at 9:30p.m. Local weather conditions were moderate winds with light snow; Temperature was -30 degrees Celsius; Canadian for -22 Fahrenheit. That's COLD even without the wind chill factor. No fancy covered walkway here! I stepped out of the airplane onto the outside stair ramp and was directly engulfed by the weather. For just a moment, I looked into the night expecting to see the snow blowing horizontally, but the airport lights reflected off swirling clouds of glittering snow. It was almost magical… until I tried to take a breath. Oh!! The frigid air hit the back of my throat like a little freight train! Don't do that again Patti. Carefully, step by step I went down the stairs onto a concrete tarmac covered with thick ice. "Don't slip Patti," I kept repeating to myself, my eyes glued to my feet while concentrating on taking that next step. Momentarily when I looked up, I could see the big windows of the airport arrival waiting area. Inside and next to the front window was my dear brother Steve and brother-in-law Darren. As I painstakingly made my way across the ice, I could see them holding up and exuberantly shaking my big and heavy Fort St. John winter coat! Once inside, safe and just little worse for wear, I was enveloped by hugs and more hugs! Precious answered prayers!
When we got to the hospital the family was with Dad. His doctor was also there waiting to speak to all of us. He said that dad was totally unresponsive due to the bleeding in his brain and was on a ventilator. It was helping him breathe, but he could still breathe on his own without it. They had no idea how long dad could continue in his current condition, with or without the ventilator. It could be hours or months, there was absolutely no way to know. But we all knew what dad wanted. He had strongly expressed to all of us on many occasions that he didn’t want to hang around. So united in purpose, prayerfully we went ahead to set his wishes into motion… It was hard to believe that such a grave decision had just been made. Dad looked so peacefully sleeping that he was literally glowing. I remember saying, “Dad, you look too good to be so sick.” The family gathered and encircled the hospital bed. There we were praying, saying our loving goodbyes, eyes full of tears when suddenly the recorded voice of Johnny Cash cut through the air singing, “I fell into a burning ring of fire…” A mortified grandson just about dislocated himself in his frantic scramble to turn off the offending cell phone. “Nice touch” said his mother dryly.
Gradually, the gathering dwindled down to the five of us: Steve and Cindy, Kathy, Karolyn and me. The attending nurse came in to suggest we step outside the curtain while she made our father more comfortable. As we planned to be there for a while, Steve offered to go for sandwiches. Karolyn said she would go with him and off they went. Kathy, Cindy and I were left chatting, still outside the curtain. A few minutes had gone by when we began to hear dad breathing on his own. I remarked that when Billie, my mother-in-law, was in hospice, she was breathing easy like that when suddenly her breathing had changed. Those words were just out of my mouth when Dad’s breathing changed. The nurse came rushing out from behind the curtain, “Come! Come! It’s time!”. Kathy was immediately on her phone calling Steve and Karolyn saying something like to get back in here! And so, with us together, arms entwined crying and praying, Dad died an hour later…
"Reflections of Golden Threads"
January 21,2009 was over, but that was not the end of his story… Perhaps the best way to reflect on the ending of “Dad”, would be through this email exchange between Chuck and me on March 6, 2020. Among their many contributions to our church, Chuck and his wife Molly headed up the Outreach Veterans ministry…
From: Chuck Sent: Friday March/6/2020 1:58/PM
To: pattilmcbride@msn.com <pattilmcbride@msn.com>
Subject: amazing grace lyrics
Hi, I don't remember which verse you sang in our remembrance of Robert --- last month. Tomorrow we are remembering another vet who recently passed away. Will you send me the verse of Amazing Grace you sang?
Thanks!
"Duty is ours, results are God's." - John Quincy Adams
In a message dated 3/6/2020 6:20:05 PM US MST, pattilmcbride@msn.com writes:
Re: Amazing Grace Lyrics (To Chuck)
Amazing Grace,
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost,
But now am found.
Was blind,
But now I see!
That's the way I sang it for my dad's memorial in 2009. Pretty powerful... especially when you know that he resisted salvation his whole life. It was about two years before he died (suddenly from bleeding of the brain, a side effect of the medication given him to break up a blot clot in his heart) that he had moved Mom to the very little town of Carmangay on the plains of Alberta. My brother said, "It's so flat there that you could watch your dog run away for two days! But, in that tiny town there was a little church and they loved enough to lead our dad to Christ and eternal life. When it was time to move them back to Fort St John, BC to be with family, Mom was suffering from severe dementia. These wonderful folks cared for them and helped pack up the house making it easier for my sisters, brother and myself to move them back home. What a joy it was to know that two years later and while we were ALL together with Dad in that hospital bed, he passed over into the arms of his Savior! Amazing Grace!
In Christ,
Patti
Note: We were assured of Dad’s salvation through a letter that was sent from that little church and read at his memorial.
The Tool Box
January 22, 2009 found us sitting around a conference room at Hemery’s Funeral Home. Still reeling from the events of the day before, the four of us were faced with the daunting task of making “those” final arrangements. Dad had made a will, but it was mostly financial stuff. There was nothing about his burial; No instructions. Cremation? Urn or casket? What about a plot? A memorial? A grave marker? Questions were swirling around us. Steve was named as executor, but he was stressed that he didn’t have a clue what to do and neither did Kathy nor Karolyn. “I do” I said. Being the oldest, there’s a certain amount of deference that comes with that precariously lofty position… They turned to hear what I had to say. “I think we should have Dad cremated and put in his toolbox.” I’m not sure if I can capture their reactions. But, almost in unison the first response was: “HUH???” Then thoughtfully: “Hmm…” Finally, in agreement: “A-huh!
After our meeting at Hamres, Kathy and Todd went out in the freezing cold to Dad’s storage shed to collect the toolbox and store it at their house. I couldn’t come up with a photo of the actual toolbox, but according to Kathy, the one pictured is how she remembered it. Steve made the arrangements to have Dad “cool his jets’” sealed in a box on a shelf at Hamres. In July, the family gathered at the Fort St. John cemetery under a tent. Seated in a circle around Dad, now in his toolbox, we went from youngest to oldest, each putting in the toolbox a special note, treasured photo, a memory or promise to be sealed in with their father, grandfather and friend.
The Ring
It was sometime during August of 2008 when the family had gathered in Fort St John, BC to celebrate Karolyn and Darren’s wedding, that Dad asked if I wanted to take Mom’s wedding rings home with me. The concern, of course, was Mom’s deepening dementia. “It’s meant for you,” he said. “Oh Dad, I’m not ready, not now…maybe on a later trip. A few weeks past and the ring disappeared. For the next few months, the family practically tore apart the folk’s car and apartment looking for it. As you can imagine, they looked everywhere, but no ring. Kathy was kicking herself because since Mom had lost a lot of weight, she knew it could easily slip off her finger. And with the dementia…who knows? She had already bought a zirconia diamond ring hoping to make an exchange so Mom wouldn’t notice. But before she had a chance, it was gone.
It was in 1979 after Dad and Mom had sold the Fort St. John Dairy Queen that they came to visit us in Tucson. Dad told me that he wanted to give Mom a really nice diamond for her wedding ring. We went to a family-owned wholesale jewelry store here in Tucson. The diamond was beautiful, almost a carat and was perfect in its new setting on Mom’s 1945 wedding rings. She was so surprised! Even though those kinds of things weren’t that important to her, she was thrilled and wore it continually for over 30 years.
The day before I was to fly home, Steve and I were in Mom and Dad’s care home apartment going through some stuff to get ready to move them out of the facility. It fell to me that if there was anything to do with Mom’s music, it was my department. As you came into their apartment entry hall, the first thing you saw was the side view of Mom’s apartment piano. It was a full-sized electronic keyboard that was pushed against the inside entry wall common to their bedroom on the other side. Next to the keyboard was a four-shelf oak bookcase. While Steve was in the one bedroom, I was carefully going through the papers and music stacked in the bookcase and on keyboard. I found all kinds of little scraps of paper, straws, packages of crackers, tissues, greeting cards, etc. (I know what you’re thinking, but hold on…) I had just gone around the corner into the bedroom to tell Stevie something when on my return trip around the corner to the piano, it happened. I don’t quite know what it was or how to explain it, but all of a sudden, in my head there was like a rush or a wind. Without hesitation, I found myself pulling the bookcase away from the wall. Looking down and to my right, behind the piano on the floor next to wall there came a little gleam. Not saying anything until I was sure, I pulled the other end of the piano back to where I could reach around to get it. Yes, amongst the dust bunnies was a diamond wedding ring. Excited, I ran back around the corner into the bedroom, holding the ring extended out so Steve could see it. Eyes huge, he said incredulously, “IS THAT IT”??? I said, “I DUNNO!! IS THAT IT??” He said again, “IS THAT IT??” I said again, “I DUNNO!! IS THAT IT?? Then, we both agreed, that was IT! Mom’s wedding ring!! WOW! To this very day I don’t know which is more shocking; that I found the ring at all or how I came to find it…
That evening at the family farewell dinner, only Steve knew that I was wearing THE ring. It fit perfectly! We were a little disappointed nobody noticed right away until I walked up to Kathy face to face with my left hand spread-eagled over my face. It took a minute as I’m sure it looked a little bizarre, but then it was something like…”IS THAT IT?? Me, grinning in agreement, was followed by a lot of laughter and excited exclamations! Steve said later how relieved he was about finding the ring. He was not looking forward to involving the one place he knew hadn’t been checked… the plumbing drains in the care home apartment.
That January I stayed in the Peace River Country for about four weeks...
Thank you for your Dad’s story. I have heard it before but I was able to read it this morning.
It is so good! Your style is so inspirational. Thank you for the reminder that “all things work for the good”. God is still in control!
dorinda