July, Month of Red, White and the Blues

July has always been my favorite month. I love summer. I love the long, warm days. It is the month that I celebrate my birthday. It is the month that this great country, of which I am so privileged to live in, celebrates its birthday.
Since July of 1969 I have enjoyed many wonderful experiences. Growing up I spent most of the summers in the mountains with my family and grandparents. I remember Grandpa Hallenberger cooking ham-hock and beans. He would simmer it over the campfire all day. I can still smell the aroma as it floated throughout our camp. And oh the flavors. I have still never had beans that could compare to my Grandpa’s.
Grandma would take us up onto the side of the hills to pick huckleberries. We would eat as many as we put in our bags. Grandma and mom would make syrup or we would just eat them fresh with our pancakes. I remember one time eating a few too many and got sick. I went to the tent in the middle of the afternoon and laid down. It’s the only time in my life that I can remember throwing up. It came so fast that I couldn't even make it out of the tent. Just left a nice thick purple splatter in the middle of the tent floor. I called out to my parents and my dad came in and just started cleaning it all up.
We would stay up late every night and sing songs around the campfire while my dad played along on his guitar. I learned to love the music of Roger Miller, Hank Williams and Johnny Cash as well as many other classic country stars. Great memories.
One of the most difficult and trying times of my life also took place one July. I recall the memory in my mind often, but haven’t talked too much about it and have never written it down. But it is an important life altering time in my life that would test my mettle and shape my future.
In July of 1986 I was in between my Junior and Senior year of high school. Summertime in Homer, Alaska was beautiful and there was so much to do. My dad and I fished a lot and I camped out with my friends. Home life was the best it had been for many years. We didn't have much but we were so happy. Our little home was just a single room less than 450 square feet. It had an upstairs in the rafters of the roof where we all slept. The bathroom was an outhouse back behind the little home. For a bath tub we had an old horse trough. Located some 20 miles from Homer outside of a little town called Anchor Point, we were truly off the grid.
Despite our lack of luxury we found a way to be comfortable and happy. We loved being together as a family. Dad, mom (my stepmother, Becky) and my younger siblings, John 5, Heidi 3 and Rebecca 1. My older sister, Melinda had moved out earlier in the year. I loved being with them. Though having a stepparent is not always ideal, I had a special relationship with Becky. Most people didn't know that she wasn't my mother.
July 4th was a Friday that year and we spent most of the day at the Darlings house. We enjoyed a nice BBQ together with our best friends. In the evening we celebrated the birth of our country. It was a fun evening with some of the people that we loved the most.

The next morning Dad and I decided we would go fishing. It was good to live in the Halibut Fishing Capital of the World.  So I got my chores done early while Dad gathered the fishing gear. Once we were all loaded up, we grabbed a couple of sandwiches and hopped in the old white Dodge van that we had purchased from the Darlings. Dad had barely started the engine when Mom came out the front door and stood on the porch. She had a disgusted look on her face. I was completely shocked when she raised her voice and yelled at Dad. “Sometimes you are so selfish!” She quickly turned and went back into the house and slammed the door behind her.
Dad and I were stunned. In the entire time that I had known her, she had never raised her voice and anyone. Especially my Dad. She and Dad had a very special relationship. Dad looked at me and said, “I don’t think we should go fishing today.”  I nodded in agreement and we both exited the van. I spent the rest of the day chopping wood and playing with the kids.
As I chopped wood I listened to my favorite music from The Beach Boys on my Walkman cassette player. I ran the incident in my mind over and over barely hearing the songs playing in my headphones. What possibly caused her to blow up at Dad. It was so troubling to me. My dad just went on with his day as if nothing had happened but I knew he must have been thinking the same things as I did.
Early afternoon we decided to go down to the Anchor Point school and let the kids play on the swings and other playground equipment. We took some tennis rackets and balls as well as some drinks and snacks. Once at the school we played with the kids for a while and then Dad and I played a little tennis. After a bit Mom and the kids came over and we all played a form of tennis that was more laughing and chasing balls around everywhere. It was lots of fun. I saw a friend of mine show up with his basketball and start to shoot by himself on the old chain link basketball hoop. I decided to go over an play with him for a bit. His name was Lance Bailey and I was good friends with him. We were on the wrestling team together and he was the defending state champion at 105 lbs. He also played for the Homer Mariner basketball team. I was hoping to make the team my senior year and had been working very hard at my game. I was pretty confident that I would make the team too. The star center on the team was Gary Sneed and he lived next door to us. He was a 6’11” soon to be sophomore. He had a small indoor basketball court that they had converted from their old cabin. He would come over and invite me to play and I would play with him for hours. I was small and quick and he was tall. We were able to help each other’s games out and I was excited to see what we would do together for the Homer team that upcoming year.
Playing against Lance was much different. Lance was deceptively quick and had long arms that he could use to steal the ball if someone wasn’t very careful dribbling around him. We played a little one on one and I more than held my own. I considered Lance to be a good gauge on where my game was at. I thought that he and I and Gary would be great teammates.
It was nice and hot outside, at least by Alaskan terms. The temperature was in the upper 70’s and there were very few clouds in the sky. It was beautiful. I was quite sweaty and had played hard. Dad came over with the rest of the family and watched us for a few minutes and then he said it was time to leave. I told Lance “good game” and shook his hand. He patted me on the back and said he was excited to play more with me in the future.
We left the school and Dad asked if we should go get some pizza at the little pizza parlor in Anchor Point. My dad didn't really care for pizza much but he really liked that little place in Anchor Point. We ordered some pizza and some sodas and sat and ate as a family. We talked about the great day it had been and how much fun we had. Mom said she was impressed at how well I was playing basketball with Lance. My dad agreed. I was pretty happy that they had noticed and that they thought that I could play for the High School team as a senior.
After pizza we went home and got the little kids ready for bed. Then we gathered in the little family area downstairs and talked more about what a great day we had and that we were thankful to have such a happy family. Thoughts of what had happened before we took off fishing had faded. We held hands in a circle and said family prayer and thanked our Heavenly Father for the blessings we had been given that day and for allowing us to be part of such a wonderful family.
As we prayed I thought of my family back in the “lower 48”. My real mom and step-dad and my other brothers and sisters were living in Oregon. I missed them and said a little prayer of my own silently in my head and gave thanks for them as well. Life had been a struggle since I was 8 years old but I had also been blessed with so many to love.
After the prayer we sent the kids off to bed. Mom said she wasn't feeling real good and she went out to the outhouse while Dad and I dished up some ice cream and watched a little Twilight Zone on TV. When mom came back she looked a little pale and said she was going to bed. I gave her a hug and told her I loved her and thanked her for letting us have such a great day together. She smiled and turned and went up the stairs to the loft. Dad followed her up and then after a few moments came back down. We watched TV for about 30 minutes and Dad went upstairs again. I heard Mom crying a little saying her abdomen was hurting and she was nauseous. Dad came downstairs and told me it was probably time to call it a night. He went into the kitchen area and found some Pepto Bismol and took it up to Mom. I went outside to use the outhouse and then returned and went upstairs to my bedroom area.  I could hear my little brother, John, snoring like he was a little old man. I chuckled to myself and then laid down on my bed. I put my headphones on and listened to some Foreigner and tried to drift off to sleep.
I must have fallen asleep and I was awakened by some noise. I looked at the clock and it was about 1:30 in the morning. I heard my parent’s door handle and the door opened up. Dad and Mom came out and went downstairs. I asked if everything was OK and Dad said that Mom wasn't feeling well and she was going back to the outhouse to try to relieve herself. She must have eaten something that didn't set well with her. I felt bad for her and also for Dad. Dad was the Elder’s Quorum President at church which meant he needed to leave the house at 6:30am so he could be there for a 7am meeting. It didn't appear that he and Mom had gotten much sleep at all yet.
I put my headphones on again and drifted off to sleep again. I heard my parents come back into the house and up the stairs. A couple of more times thru the night I heard Mom crying and Dad going up and down the stairs trying to get her things to help her feel better.
When I awoke for good at about 7am it was obvious that Dad would not be making his early meetings. He was dressed but still trying to help Mom feel better. At about 8 o’clock I woke up the kids and got them dressed and fed them breakfast. Dad asked me to call Frances Darling and ask her if she would come over and help with Mom. Frances was one of Mom’s best friends and we knew that she would want to help. She also practiced home remedies for many ailments. She had a special kit with some homeopathy supplies. They were tiny little white sugary type balls. There were some for all kinds of sicknesses. So I called Frances and she said she would come right over.
When she got to our house she was with her son Tony, who was my best friend. She wanted Tony to take me and the kids to church with them. I helped get the kids out to his car but told him I wanted to stay and help Mom. I thanked him and then he got in the car and drove away.
I went back into the house and Frances was just coming downstairs. It was about 9:30 now and Frances went back upstairs and gave Mom some of her remedies. I went upstairs to get a book out of my room and saw my Dad leaning over Mom. He whispered to her that she should keep resting and that he would come back in and check on her shortly. I saw Mom drift asleep for the first time since she had gotten sick. Dad, Frances and I went back downstairs and Dad made some calls to church to let them know that he wouldn't be there today. At about 10 o’clock Frances said she was worried and thought we should probably call the hospital. Dad agreed and so Frances placed the call. Dad went upstairs and I heard the crying again. Mom was in so much pain.
I went upstairs to just to see if Dad wanted me to do anything. When I looked into the room I saw Dad holding Mom tightly. He looked up at me and said the words that would haunt me forever, “He took my Becky, He took my Becky! It wasn't Mom who was crying. It was Dad.
I didn't know what to do. I felt that I had been punched in the stomach by Ivan Drago. I couldn't breathe. I turned away from the scene and went downstairs. Frances was still on the phone with the hospital. I told her that it was too late and that she didn't need to call the hospital. She looked at me strangely and said that an ambulance was on the way. I told her that Mom was gone. She became angry with me and shouted, “Horace that is not funny, I can hear her crying!”
I told her “That’s not Mom. That is my dad crying.”
There was a look of horror come over Frances’ face. She knew I was not joking around. She put down the phone and went up the stairs and saw what I had told her was true. She began to weep with my dad.
A few moments later I heard the sirens from the ambulance driving down Lichen St to our home. They parked in the front and quickly grabbed some supplies and went into the house and upstairs. They asked Dad to let them help and so Dad and Frances came out of the room and downstairs. Frances and Dad began making some phone calls to the church to let them know what had happened.
At one point I walked upstairs and saw the paramedics frantically trying to revive my mom. She was laying on her back and they used the defibrillator to jump start her heart again. It was something I wish I had never seen. After a while they placed her on a gurney and took her out to the ambulance and they sped off to the hospital.
Soon after the ambulance left another car came up the road. It was Lee Garlock and Bishop Seljestad. Lee was a counselor in the bishopric and was also one of Dad’s cousins. I can still remember the embrace that they gave my dad and I in the driveway of our little home. They were heartbroken. They helped us gather some things and then we followed them into town. When we got to the hospital we went to a little room they had set aside for families that needed privacy. We went in and said a prayer together that we would all be able to strong as a family at this difficult time.
Afterwards we waited until the doctor finally came out and told us that there was nothing that they could do to save her. She had bled internally from what was called a tubular pregnancy. I hadn't even known that she was pregnant. Dad told me that they had just found out themselves and hadn't told anyone yet.
We decided to stay with Pat and Ray Evarts for a few days in Homer while we got things sorted out. Ray was like a godfather to my younger siblings. In fact Heidi’s middle name was in honor of “Papa” Ray. Ray also wanted to be the one to explain the situation to John, Heidi and Rebecca. Bless his heart he tried to fight the tears as he explained to little John how his mother was now in the spirit world and was waiting for the resurrection when she could be with her family and Jesus and Heavenly Father again. John’s capacity to understand seemed a miracle to me and he even sat down with Heidi and Rebecca and talked to them about where Mom was now. It was so sweet.
For me, I was just angry. For what seemed like the first time in my young life I had been truly happy. I was doing well in school. I had the greatest friends. I had a wonderful church family. I was ready to be a great wrestler and basketball player for Homer High. I had a home that was full of love and joy and harmony. It had all come crashing down around me. I felt that I was never to be that happy. Every time in my life that things were going well for me, it always ended in tragedy or disappointment. I was so bitter.
The next few weeks would be a whirlwind of emotion for me. I was angry with God and had become despondent to those around me. There were so many things that constantly reminded me of Mom and that was not helping me feel any better about the situation.  The day before the funeral, Pat Evarts asked me to go to the store with her. I didn't really want to go but reluctantly I agreed to. I loved Pat. She had let me hang out at her house many times when I had a school function or a wrestling match after school. She would give me snacks and we would watch WKRP in Cincinnati together. That was one of her favorite shows. The Evarts had a beautiful home just down from the High School and had a wonderful view of Homer. They also owned the supermarket across the street. As Pat and I entered the store I felt some déjà vu and remembered going to the store with Mom on many occasions.
Pat told me I could get a candy bar if I wanted. I stood there in the candy isle and looked at all the options. I kept asking myself, what would Mom get me if she were here? I picked up a Big Hunk and told Pat thanks and walked out of the store back to the house. I sat in the guest room and stared at the candy bar. I had no appetite.

The dreaded day of the funeral arrived. I shook a few people’s hands but didn't say much to anyone. I was a little surprised and the number of people who came to the church that day. It was obvious that Mom’s death had a great impact on that little community. The outpouring of love was supreme.
As the funeral began, they welcomed everyone and thanked them all for coming. They talked about how important the Hallenberger family was to them. Bishop Seljestad shared some thoughts and I was amazed at how touched he was by Mom during the short time she lived in Alaska. I knew how wonderful she was but I didn't realize that so many others had been blessed by her love as well.
After a couple of speakers, my best friend Tony got up to do a musical number with Pam Sherwood, another of our dear friends in Homer. The song was “I’ll Build You a Rainbow”. It’s about a mother who was dying and she was explaining to her young son that he shouldn't be afraid, that she would still be there watching over him. She said she’d build a rainbow for him to know she was there. It was heart wrenching to hear. I had heard the song many times but it had never pierced me as it did that day. Tony struggled to fight back the tears as he sang. I began to cry and then to sob. It was the first time I had cried over Mom dying. I felt Dad’s arm around me as my shoulders continued to shudder through the song. I had loved her so much and now it was sinking in that it was real. That she was gone. I also felt in my heart that she would be watching over me and building me a rainbow even thought I wasn't her real son. I felt a sense of peace come over me.
I remember that before the funeral we had the opportunity to look in and view Mom’s body as it laid in the casket. Something did not seem right. It just didn't seem like it was her. Something was missing. After the wonderful funeral service we again walked up to the casket before the lid door was closed. Our whole family noticed that her countenance had changed. It was almost as if she was now smiling up at us. This again brought us to tears.
As they closed the casket I whispered “I love you, Mom”.

Eight days after the loss of Mom I “celebrated” my 17th birthday. It was not much of a celebration. I didn't have much to be excited about. We spent the next couple of weeks in Boise with my Dad’s family. We had a second funeral service for our relatives in Idaho where we were all originally from. My dad occupied his time touring the Temples in Utah while John, Heidi, Rebecca and I stayed with my dad’s sister, Lela, and her family. My cousin Brenda tried hard to help me keep my mind occupied on things other than the sadness I was feeling. We did some work for my Uncle Blaine so we could earn some money for tickets to a Beach Boys concert. I had a lot of fun but definitely it was all on the surface. Deep down I was still reeling.
We finally returned to Alaska and my Dad told me that he had decided it was best for him to move back to Boise so he could be near his parents. I know that the memories that were around our little home in Anchor Point were more than he could bare. Dad knew that this decision to move would have a great impact on me. He knew about my aspirations for my Senior year at Homer High. He gave me the choice to stay and finish High School in Homer. There were a couple of families that had offered to let me stay in their homes during that time. I looked at my dad and my little brother and sisters and chose to go with them. I couldn't leave them. I felt that they needed me and I surely needed them at this time.
We began to pack our meager belongings and prepare for the long trip back to Idaho. We received a phone call from someone at church and they wanted to talk to my dad. After he hung up the phone he told me that I needed to pack a bag of clothes for a few days. I asked why and he said that they were coming to pick me up and take me to Youth Conference in Anchorage. I was surprised to hear this news. I had decided not to go to Youth Conference after Mom died because there was just too much going on and I wasn't really in the mood to go. They had told Dad that they were not taking no for an answer and that they were going to physically load me into the vehicle if needed.

Tony Darling

Me and Alan Otter

Jenny Darling

I reluctantly packed a bag and soon heard a car pull up to the house. My best friends, Tony, Nelson Swett and Ronald Caroll were there. I said a quick good bye to my Dad and I was on my way. We met up with all the rest of the youth from the church and began the 4 hour drive to Anchorage. I have to admit it was good to be with my friends. They were so kind and tried hard to uplift me as I struggled at the time. The conference was good. I felt so much love from everyone. Word had spread of my situation and I was encouraged by some of the leaders to speak to the youth about my experience. It was one of the most difficult things for me to do. I stood in front of the hundreds of youth from around Alaska. I became overwhelmed with emotion. I found myself thinking about Mom. I could feel her presence there with me. I looked around at the many faces who were focused on me standing at the pulpit. I could pick out a couple of my friends from Homer and they were all smiling at me with tears running down their cheeks. I realized that Mom had built me a rainbow. My rainbow was beautiful and full of color and brightness. It was made up of young people like myself who had become my greatest friends. It was made up of Tony and Jenny Darling. It was made up of Ron, Andrea and Elizabeth Carroll. My rainbow had Nelson Swett, Sarah Anderson and Kirsten Ballentine. Kim Willis and Lucinda Knopp were there. Matt and Wendy DeGraffenreid were there. Dave Seljestad, and my good friend Alan Otter were there.

David and Bishop Seljestad

Andrea Carroll and Kim Willis

Me and Nelson

There were many more. I felt love all around. I finally began to speak. I’m sure I was hard to understand because the tears were flowing freely as I expressed my love for my many friends and for my mother. It seemed like everyone in the meeting was crying as well. After I was done, I was enveloped in the arms of all of these dear friends. I was going to miss them all so much but I knew that because of them and others like them, that I was going to be ok. I was not alone.
I was no longer angry with God. Instead I was extremely grateful to him for all the wonderful blessings in my life.

My senior year of High School was nothing like I had planned. I moved to Boise with my family and played the part of “Mom” the best that I could throughout the school year. Dad got a job doing sales that had him traveling all over Southern Idaho. This kept him out of town on many occasions so it was up to me to keep the house in order. I gave up wrestling and basketball. I gave up many of the things that I was so excited about before. I was happy though. I received something that most boys my age never experience, the love of their younger brother and sisters. It was so important to me that they felt loved each and every day. Their mother had been taken from them in the most impactful time in their lives. I tried to keep her memory in the home. I told them how much she loved each of them and that someday they would see her again. My bond with them is still strong today. Like a mother, I feel their pains and their joys and they have grown up and become parents themselves.

Today is July 6, 2014. It’s been 28 years since Mom left us. I still miss her every day. I love her and I am grateful for the influence she had on me. I am especially thankful for the day that she yelled at my dad and I for being selfish as we were leaving for a day of fishing. I love to fish. But fishing would not have compared to that one last day with Mom. I like to think that she knew it would be her last day with us and she needed us to be together. It was a great day. It was the best day. Thanks, Mom!