A Game of Cat and Moose

Alaska is famous for its wildlife. Most recognizably is probably the moose. The moose is somewhat of a symbol for Alaska and I grew to love the aura surrounding them. They are a majestic animal, growing up to fifteen hundred pounds and nearly seven feet tall at the shoulder. A bull moose can carry an antler set spanning over six and a half feet across. Coming across one in the wild is breathtaking. For me, in some cases, those incidents were down right terrifying.

I already mentioned the encounter with the two young bull moose that my dad and I had while fishing one afternoon. I had three other encounters that weren’t as pleasant of an experience.

The very first week that I moved there my dad and I went to an area of Homer where there was a new neighborhood of homes being built. At one of the homes we met a big man whose name was Buck DeGraffenried. He was obviously good friends with my dad. Buck was a builder and dad had done some finish carpentry for him. Apparently dad and Buck had made an arrangement to pick up a dog that Buck was needing to find a home for.

The dog was a beautiful chocolate lab named Pepper. She was a couple of years old and she was mild mannered and obedient. I was happy to know that we would be having a family pet. It would help me take my mind off of my little dog I’d left behind in Idaho.

Pepper was a lot of fun and my little brother and sisters just thought the world of her. She would let them ride on her back like a small horse. John and Heidi liked to use her for a pillow in the middle of our family room as they read their books. I don’t know if I’d ever seen such a good natured dog before.

Pepper liked to play outside most of the time and had free run of the forest around our home. We kept her food dish on the front porch so she could eat whenever she was hungry. Sometimes I would watch her through our only window as she would try to chase away the little “camp robber” gray jays that were giving us fits by plucking the clothespins off of the line and dropping all the clean laundry onto the ground. It was interesting how well Pepper knew how much we disliked those flying pests!

Birds were about the only things Pepper would chase off. Other animals like dogs, bears, porcupines, wolves, and moose could wander onto our property anytime they wished. One night, like clockwork, I awoke around 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning and needed to take a leak. My dad and I were lucky to be guys and we appreciated the fact that we didn’t have to walk all the way out to the outhouse unless our business required us to be in the sitting position. This was nice because, like this particular night, I really had to pee and don’t think I would have made it without our shortcut. We would walk right out onto the porch, turn to the side and let it fly.

That night I nearly cracked my head onto the roof trusses above where I slept. My bed was wedged where the roof came together with the upper floor of our little cabin. If I tried to sit up too quickly, let’s just say it would leave a pretty good mark on my forehead. I rolled out of my bed and crawled away far enough so that I could stand up without harming myself. I hurried down the steep staircase, which, to be honest, was more of a large ladder. At the bottom of the stairs I made a quick turn towards the door. I opened the door as quietly as I could while still maintaining my urgency. I was wearing a pair of shorts and socks and nothing else and the cool Alaskan summer night breeze was a little chilly on my bare skin.

I walked outside onto the porch and turned to my right so I could relieve myself onto the tundra below. About the time that I let out my typical sigh of relief I overheard a weird crunching sound just to my left. I turned to my left and through my groggy eyes, I slowly focused in on the origin of the sound.

Instantly I was wide awake and my heart rate tripled. My urination then ended prematurely. I stood there frozen in place holding my manhood in one hand as I stared eye to eye with a full sized bull moose. The noise I had heard turned out to be the moose chewing on a mouthful of Pepper’s dog food. The moose stared at me without a care in the world that I had just interrupted his dinner with a show not likely to win an Oscar. He just dropped his head and used his big lips and tongue to scoop out another mouthful of Alpo. He lifted his head again and began his chewing motion once more. He stared at me again and I slowly put myself back into my shorts and tentatively backed away toward the door, which was, thankfully, still ajar. I slipped in and closed the door.

I walked over to the window and gazed out upon the porch. The moose was finishing off the last of Pepper’s food and then with his nose, he pushed the dish off of the porch and onto the ground. He sniffed around the porch looking for some more food before turning around and slowly meandered away. I turned around and headed back up the stairs and to my bed. For some reason I didn’t feel the need to pee anymore.

A couple of months later we were heading back home from Homer after a church function. It was evening and dark as we drove up the Sterling Highway. We were in our little ’79 Subaru wagon and we were following our good friends Brian and Rhonda Owens. They were also driving a Subaru wagon that was a few years newer than ours. About half way home we saw the Owens’ brake lights come on and they were slowing down fast. Dad hit the brakes and as we were slowing down we saw a horrifying sight in the beam of our headlights. Over the top of the Owens’ Subaru came four legs and a very large animal. It came completely over their car and landed on its side just behind the car. Almost immediately we recognized it as a large female moose. The moose laid there for no more than a second or two and then jumped up and ran off the road and up the mountainside. We watched it run up the hill and then turned our heads towards our friends’ car.


The damage was devastating. The entire roof of the car was flattened down. The thought of what we’d find inside the car was sickening. They had broadsided that moose at close to 50 mph. The car was crushed.

Dad got out of the car and ran to the passenger side of the car. He place both his hands on the car and peered inside. His head dropped and the image of decapitated bodies flashed through my head. Then he looked up and turned his head back towards us. He held up his thumb to notify us that the Owens family were all ok. It was a miracle.

That was the incident that convinced me just how powerful a moose was. The car rammed into the side of that moose at a pretty decent speed and that moose got up and ran up the mountainside under its own power. I’m fairly certain that it suffered internal damages that more than likely caused it to die, but the sheer fact that it walked away at all is mind boggling.

The following spring, in 1986, my school bus dropped me off along North Fork Road at the corner of Lichen Street. I got off the school bus and began to walk alone down Lichen St as I did every other day. I only had about a two-thirds of a mile walk to get home. About a thousand feet or so from the house I looked over to my left and saw two cow moose lazily grazing on the branches of some Quaking Aspen trees about twenty-five yards away. I watched them, fascinated, as I strolled by carrying my books under one arm. They looked at me nonchalantly as they casually chomped away on the leaves.

It seemed that moose never had a care in the world. Nothing around them concerned them. They were often seen meandering around town like they owned the place. No matter how many people or cars, moose would just do their thing.

Moose at McDonalds in Homer, AK

These two moose didn’t appear any different. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining brightly in the wide open Alaskan sky. Patches of fireweed could be found spotted alongside Lichen Street, adding a beautiful contrast of pink and violet among the many shades of greens in the Alaska forest. It was a majestic view to behold and I soaked it in as I made my way.

Fireweed

While I was taken away in deep thought, I was startled back to reality by a sudden movement by one of the moose in my scene. I watched her ears lay back and her head lift up and then quickly back down in an aggressive manner. She was looking right at me. The fur on her shoulder hump stood up like I’d seen on the back of the neck of an angry cat. My heartbeat skipped and then began to pump a much faster rhythm. I stopped for a second with my eyes trained on the horse size animal. She just stood there with her eyes intently trained directly on me. Normally I would enjoy a competitive staring contest, but at this moment, I was more than happy to lose if it would get me out of that uncomfortable situation.

I took a step forward thinking I would just hurry and get myself home before something bad happened. That was the wrong thing to do. As soon as that first step hit the ground, the moose grunted and lunged forward. In a split second I was running for my life with the moose in hot pursuit.

I had always been pretty knowledgeable when it came to animals. I studied them often as a child. I don’t remember ever reading about how fast a moose can run. That giant beast gained on me as if I was running in mud. At this point, I have to express my deepest gratitude for the many trees that heavily populate the area. As I heard the stomping hooves get louder and louder, my instincts kicked in and I shot into the trees. At some point I had also began screaming at the top of my lungs for my dad. It was a normally quiet “neighborhood” and I was hopeful he would hear my desperate cries for help.

Once I was in the trees, I ran to the largest one I could find and grabbed it with my hand and swung myself around to position the tree between me and the charging moose. The moose was violently angry and tried over and over to get past the tree to me. I was quick on my feet and dodged effectively and then jumped behind a different tree. The moose followed my every move trying intently to harm me.

This went on for about an hour. Okay, maybe not an hour. It was more like 45 seconds. But that’s what happens to your judgment of time when a full grown angry moose is chasing you.

Thankfully my Dad was home and had heard my terrifying shrills. I saw him speeding up the road in our old Subaru. He drove as close as he could to where the moose had me pickled behind the tree. I jumped around another tree and as the moose lunged to follow me I sprinted to the car. I hurried around the car to the passenger door and jumped in just as the moose came around the same side. Dad was laying on the horn and trying to scare the moose away but the moose just lowered its head and used it to butt into the car.

Once I was inside Dad hit the gas and we sped away. The moose followed for a short distance and then stopped and watched us flee. We went a little further to a point where we could turn the car around and back towards home. We slowly began driving and as we approached the area of battle we saw the moose walk away from the road on the opposite side from where I had first spotted her and her friend.

We proceeded slowly keeping a close eye on the moose just in case she decided to make another run at us. As we passed by we noticed she stopped and bent down as though she was going to eat something off of the tundra floor. It was on the tundra there that I saw the small form of a moose calf laying down. It reached up and its mother licked its face in a most tender and loving way.

My realization of my mistake caused me to shake my head. I had unintentionally walked directly between the mother and her calf. It was that one step that had put me in a position that blocked her view of her baby and cause her to panic and act protectively. It was a known rule that I was made aware of when I had first arrived in Alaska. It was unavoidable in that situation and it provided evidence to me the magnitude of danger found in Alaska’s wild.

GOD CREATED EVERYTHING, 

ALL LOVELINESS AND TRUTH. 

BUT HE’S YET TO INVENT ANYTHING, 

MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN YOU. 

 I’VE BEEN TO A LOT OF PLACES

 WITH BEAUTIFUL CLEAR BLUE SKIES,

 BUT I’VE NEVER SEEN MORE CLEARLY 

THAN WHEN I LOOK INTO YOUR EYES.  

ALL THE FRIENDS I’VE MADE IN LIFE 

FOR ME WOULD WALK A MILE, 

BUT THEY COULD NEVER HELP AS MUCH

 AS JUST ONE OF YOUR SWEET SMILES. 

 AT TIMES I FEEL UNWORTHY

 OF EVER OWNING YOUR TRUE LOVE, 

LIKE SOME BLESSINGS I RECEIVE

 FROM SOMEONE UP ABOVE.

  EACH TIME I SEE YOU SMILE,

 I FEEL A WARM EMBRACE 

AND HAPPINESS ENGULFS ME

WHEN I DREAM I’M IN YOUR PLACE. 

 I KNOW GOD IS ALL LOVING, 

IT’S EASY FOR ME TO SEE, 

CAUSE THE GREATEST GIFT I HAVE KNOWN

 IS HIS SENDING YOU TO ME. 

SO IF YOU EVER NEED SOMEONE,

 PLEASE, JUST LET ME TRY.  

YOU KNOW I WOULD DO ANYTHING 

AND IF FOR YOU, I’D DIE.  

I LOVE YOU TRINA, MORE THAN ALL, 

AND YOU CAN ALWAYS KNOW 

THAT I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU, 

FOR MY HEART COULD NEVER GO.

IT’S YOUR FOREVER

Hulk Horace

Among the many changes that I personally experienced during my time in Alaska was my physical abilities.  I still loved basketball and would have chose it as a career move had I not been so slight of build, lacking in height, and able to jump no more than the phone books I sat upon to play the Tuba. So my Dad suggested wrestling.  I had not wrestled since that one year in Homedale, except for the many times Michael and I had battled for top brother supremacy in our home over the years.  My Dad said it would be a great opportunity for me and that he would help me as well.  Dad was a former champion wrestler from his high school days in Idaho. 

            The first day of tryouts was unbelievable.  There were about forty-something guys that were there on that first day.  In fact there were more guys wanting to wrestle than were on the football team. That was surprising to me because I never saw wrestling as much of a big deal back in Idaho. I mean there were some very good wrestlers but there weren't a lot of parents and classmates that were excited about going to wrestling matches. In Homer, all of the classes were represented from freshmen to seniors.  I didn't know very many of them but I was glad to see that there were guys of all sizes including a couple near my own miniature status.

Coach Darrel White

Coach Steven Wolfe

            Right off the bat our coaches, Steven Wolfe and Darrel White, had us running laps around the school going from 1^st floor to the 2^nd floor as much as possible. I had never run so much in my life. After what seemed like an hour of running we did some other exercises and then sat around on a big gym mat and listened to the coach explain to us what we had to look forward to over the next few months.  I have to admit I was more than a little apprehensive knowing the regimen that I would be expected to complete every single day.

            I committed to myself that I would give it my all and that I wouldn't quit no matter what.  This made me feel proud when I saw a few of the team quit after the first day.

            Everyday we did drills, exercises and weightlifting for 3 hours after school.  I slowly began to get stronger and my stamina continued to increase.  I would go home and practice moves with my Dad and he would give me some additional pointers as well.  By the time we had the first wrestle-offs to see who would be the varsity, JV and 3^rd string teams I was holding my own with some of the veterans who had trained and wrestled for years. 

My T-Shirt from the 1986 Homer Winter Carnival

            Now being a small guy as a junior had a slight advantage over others in my weight class.  Wrestling at 98 pounds were usually freshmen, and once in a while you would see a sophomore.  But you never saw a junior like me.  I felt this helped me as I could intimidate opponents being the older kid.  I made the varsity team for the first meet at the 98 pound weight class.  The first tournament was scheduled in Homer for the Winter Carnival.  This was one of the biggest tournaments in Alaska with about 20 schools traveling to Homer for the event.  The new gymnasium fit 4 giant wrestling mats and another 2 were laid out in the Commons area. The stands were packed with people. It was amazing. I had never seen so many people who wanted to see wrestling other than the corny "wrestling" matches on TV between Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant or King Kong Bundy.

            I was extremely nervous for my first match. Partially because I hadn't wrested competitively in many years, and partially because the 98-pounders went first.  My first match was against a kid from Seward who had placed 6^th at the state tournament the previous year.  He was a sophomore and was forecasted to be one of the finalists at the 1986 state tournament. 

            We shook hands in the middle of the mat and then the whistle blew.  Before I knew it my opponent had shot in and got a hold of my ankle.  He quickly took me down with a single leg and I fell to the mat, flat on my back, with the other wrestler directly on top of me.  I had been trained so well that with out thinking about it, I used my momentum from falling and instantly rolled in an attempt to get off of my back.  When I did, my opponent rolled with me and before I knew what had happened I had him on his back. I quickly spun around so that his face was pressed into my stomach and both of his arms were locked under my armpits.  I didn't know what to do so I looked up and saw my coach.  He was yelling something but I couldn't hear him.  All I could hear was my dad from the other side of the mat.

            "Spread your legs, Horace!" He hollered.

            I spread my legs and realized that now my opponent could not reverse the move and roll me back over. 

            "Put your chin in his chest and lock his arms tight" Dad continued to bark out instructions.  It was so clear. I know the entire gym was noisy with all the people cheering, especially the hometown fans who were now watching one of their Homer Mariners.  But I could hear nothing except the voice of my Dad as though he were the only other person in the room besides me and the wrestler from Seward struggling beneath me.

            My chin went down and I pressed it hard into his chest.  My arms locked tight to his and I knew he couldn't move.  "Just hold him, just hold him!"  I could hear the excitement in my Dad's voice. 

            All of a sudden I felt someone tapping my shoulder.  I didn't want to let go and then I felt the tapping again.  I glanced up and saw the referee.  He was grabbing me to get off of the other wrestler.  Apparently he had blown the whistle some time ago after slapping the mat signaling that my opponent had been pinned.  I was shocked.  I looked up and saw my Dad cheering as well as the rest of my team who were on the side of the mat.  They were jumping up and down and pumping their fists.  The referee raised my arm in victory and I shook my opponent's hand.  I could see the dejection in his face but I was too excited to care.  I ran to the side and quickly hi-fived the team and got a bear hug from Coach Wolfe and Coach White.  Then my Dad clapped me on the back and said “perfect”.  He didn't have much time to congratulate me however as the Mat Maids had made their way over to me.  The Mat Maids were the cheerleaders of the wrestling team.  I received a hug from each of them and then the last one took a giant gold diaper pin and pinned it to my singlet.  She said "congratulations, you will receive a pin for every pin you make this year!"  It was awesome and my smile didn't leave until my next match.

            I ended up winning 2 of my next 3 matches and placed 4^th in the tournament.  It was much more than I had expected of myself.  I also received two special awards from the team.  One was for having the 1^st pin of the year for Homer High School.  The second was for having the fastest pin of the tournament at 22 seconds.  I was really going to enjoy this sport.

Ian Pitzman and I in Homer, AK  October 2012

            Wrestling also gave me the opportunity to see much of Alaska. We traveled to Valdez, Anchorage, Seward, Kenai, Soldotna, Wasilla, Palmer, Seldovia and other distant places. The trips were fun and I got to know my teammates better. One of the funniest trips was our trip to Seldovia. We got to ride a small commuter plane over the bay to get to the meet. We could only have a few guys on the plane at a time and I flew over with Ian Pitzman. Ian was the Defending State Champion at 175 pounds and was wrestling 191 pounds that year.  He had not lost a match in 2 years.  He was huge with muscles everywhere. He reminded me of a High School version of Arnold Swartzenegger. He was also very athletic. He was an All State Football player as well as an All State Track & Field performer. He was just good at everything.  He could even compete wrestling with Coach Wolfe. Coach Wolfe was a stout guy himself and had even competed at the NCAA championships as well as some of the World Championships. Ian was a flat out stud.

But you should have seen Ian on that little airplane. The pilot decided to mess around with us and he put the plane into a stall and went into a nose dive. Ian and I were scared out of our minds. We may have even cried though neither of us would admit it. Ian finally looked at the pilot and with a little panic in his voice told him to correct the plane and just take us to our destination. I think he probably scared the pilot because he didn't even hesitate. He just steadied the plane and took us to Seldovia. After we landed I wondered if Ian would go after him but he just gave the pilot a dirty look and got off of the plane.

            On another trip I was supposed to meet the team bus in Anchor Point on its way up to Valdez. It was a very long ride to Valdez and I had packed clothes for a few days on the road. I waited at the phone booth in front of the little market on the corner of North Fork Rd and the Sterling Highway for about 10 minutes when I saw the bus coming up the rode. I picked up my bags and walked over to where the bus would let me climb aboard. But the bus never stopped. I tried to wave it down but it just kept on moving right on towards Anchorage. I sat there with my pack of clothes as the snow fell around me. I was depressed not to go. I called my Dad and he came and picked me up and took me to school. Before we got to school we had to stop and pick up a few things at Ray Evarts store. Ray's wife Pat was at the store and we told her about the bus forgetting me. Pat told me not to worry and she called the airport. Next thing I knew I was on a small plane to Anchorage. They radioed ahead to the bus driver and told them to pick me up at the airport in Anchorage. It was great because I only had to ride the bus from Anchorage to Valdez. My teammates were all jealous because they had just spent about 5 hours on the bus while my trip took about 1-1/2 hours.

            I was happy to have cut some of my bus time out because there were a lot of disgusting things that wrestlers do on a bus. They spend the entire drive trying to ensure that they can get to the qualified weight requirements to wrestle. A 112 pound wrestler could not weigh more than 114 pounds at the time of weigh-ins. Though this was never a problem for me, many of my teammates were always needing to shed some pounds before each meet. One of the most common practices was to take a bag of starbursts and put one in your mouth. But instead of swallowing the saliva juices that were created by the starburst, you would spit it into a large cup. A large bag of Starburst would last quite a while if a guy did it properly. The negative result was a bus full of wrestler spit!

            There were other practices that were used on the bus as well but that was the most common. Guys were pretty dedicated too because you didn't want the wrath of Coach Wolfe if you didn't make your required weight.

Since the drive was so long we would stop at schools on the way and would sleep in their gyms or in classrooms. Some guys didn’t get a lot of sleep because they were still trying to lose weight. Some of them would put all of their sweats on and then wear giant black trash bags over their clothes. They would then go into the shower area of the locker rooms and turn the showers to full blast hot. They would close all the doors so that the room became like a sauna. They would find a dry spot in the room and they would do jumping jacks and squat thrusts, also known as burpees, until they couldn't bear it any longer. The sweat would just poor out of them. A guy could really lose some quick weight this way. Coach Wolfe was the one who showed us this technique. I heard that a few years later this activity was banned later because some wrestlers were dehydrated and collapsing before matches. I know that if I had the choice I would have done the Starburst spit technique instead.

            Our wrestling team was really good.  We had a few returning state finalists and one that was ranked 1^st in the state.  That was Ian Pitzman.  One of our best wrestlers, Brad Baxter, at 112 pounds got hurt and so they asked if I would move up a couple of weights because we had another good 98 pounder named George Wynn.  George was tough and he and I had some good battles in practice.  We also had one of the top 105-pounders in Lance Bailey.  Lance was tall and lanky but he could tie people up in knots that were impossible to get out of.  I learned this first hand myself. 

            112 pounds was definitely a challenge.  There were more kids my age that I would have to face and I would also be a little underweight.  The other guys didn't feel bad for me though because I could eat whatever I wanted and never had to worry about not making weight. I did ok at 112 pounds winning more than half of my matches. I always performed best when Dad was there cheering me on.

            Once we had an exhibition match at our practice room at Homer High.  There was a team from the Russian town, Nikolaevsk, which was upriver from Anchor Point. They came and we worked out together and then a few of us wrestled.  They had a 126 pound wrestler that did not have anyone to scrimmage with so my coach asked if I would give it a try. I said sure and to make a long story short I lasted for a period and a half before the Russian was declared the winner by technical fall. Technical fall meant that he had scored 15 points more than his opponent. I had tried my best but felt like I couldn't move the bigger Russian. 

            Two weeks later we wrestled the team from Ninilchik which is up the highway from Anchor Point. The same Russian team from Nikolaevsk was invited to participate as well in three-way meet. Once again, I was asked to wrestle the 126 pound Russian because neither of us had an opponent.  I agreed to do it again and hoped that I would not be embarrassed in front of Dad and Becky. 

            We took our stances on the mat and the whistle blew. I don't remember too many of the moves I made but I will tell you that it was a battle for the ages. I took the bigger Russian down and even exposed his back to the mat for extra points. I was unable to hold him down and he escaped. After the first period I was up by a point. The second period was just as tight and he scored one more than I did to enter the third period all tied at 7 each. During the short intermission before the third period I tried to remember all of the training I had received during practice. I was the better conditioned athlete and I began to jump up and down and show that I still had energy to wrestle.  Many times this would discourage our opponents because they were so worn out by that time that they lost heart and were easily beaten in the last period. I could tell that my Russian opponent was tired but he knew that I was tired too.  He also knew that he had whipped me once and could do it again. He was bigger and he would try to use it to his advantage.

            The parents, coaches and teammates were going crazy.  Most of them were now rooting for the little guy. My coaches and teammates were the most excited as they had witnessed our first meeting and I had already exceeded their expectations. I saw my Dad in the stands and he smiled at me and nodded his head. I was glad that he was here and it was reassuring that he thought I could do it.

            The referee called us over and I took the down position to begin. The whistle blew and I tried to explode from my hands and knees to a standing position. As I stood up, the Russian swept his leg in front of mine and tripped me back to the mat. He put his whole force on me and then grabbed my right wrist and pulled it away from my body. He then quickly placed his arm up under my armpit and placed his hand over the back of my neck. I felt the whole match getting away from me as he tightened his "half-nelson" and began to push it forward to roll me to my back. I held out as long as I could but the weight of the Russian was too much and I was rolled to my back. I immediately kicked my legs and rolled the other way and ripped myself free of his grip.  I stood up before he could get another hold of me and we were again facing each other on our feet. The referee had given him 2 points for exposing my back in a "near fall" and awarded me 1 point for the escape. Before my opponent had a chance to gather himself I shot in and caught his left ankle with my right hand and pulled it tight to my chest while driving forward. As I came within reach of his other leg I grabbed it with my left hand and continued to drive my body forward into his. The motion was too fast for him and my momentum threw him off balance and he fell to bottom and quickly rolled to his stomach.  I climbed on him and saw the referee award me 2 points for the take down. I looked at the timer and it showed 40 seconds left. I was up by one point and just needed to hold on for the win. The Russian was doing everything possible to get away from me.  I locked myself onto his back and tried to control his legs with mine. He tried to roll but I wouldn't budge.  

Nikolaevsk, AK

             I was so tired and knew I couldn't hold him down much longer. I could hear my Dad and my coaches screaming for me to hold on. I took another glance at the clock and watched as the second hand dragged on.  30 seconds.  20 seconds. 15 seconds. 10, 9, 8… I squeezed my opponent as he became almost violent in his quest to escape. 7, 6, 5.. I was beginning to lose control. 4, 3… At 2 seconds my grip failed me and the Russian sprang away and to his feet.  The buzzer sounded and I laid down on the mat totally spent. My opponent had scored the final point to tie the match. I wanted to cry but didn't have the energy. Slowly I heard the crowd's cheering and then felt someone pick me up from the mat. I looked up to see the Russian with tears in his eyes smiling down at me.  He took my wrist and raised it high in the air and then gave me a big bear hug. He said "moy brat" to me and then went to his bench. At that moment I was mauled back to the mat by my entire team. I had only tied but in their eyes I was the champion that day. My Dad came over and gave me a big hug and told me how proud he was of me. Becky smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead. When things finally calmed down and I had caught my breath again, I saw the Russian boy out of the corner of my eye.  I walked over to him and shook his hand again. I asked him what he had meant by "moy brat" and he said in English, "My brother".  I smiled and gave him another hug and said good bye.  I would never see him again but I will always remember my Russian brother.

            Later in the wrestling season we met with Kenai High School at Kenai. They were one of the top teams in the state at the large school level. Homer was just a small school but we competed with many of the larger schools partly because they were near and partly because we wanted to better ourselves by wrestling the better competition.  At this meet, Brad Baxter, returned to our line up and I was bumped from the varsity squad to the JV but would fill in if needed at any of the weights between 98 and 119 pounds. In Kenai I was called to wrestle in the 119 pound slot due to an illness to our varsity 119-pounder, Russell Walls. I was now used to being thrown into these situations but what I didn't know was that my opponent was at a whole other skill level. As my match approached, a couple of my teammates came over and told me not to worry because it would be over quick. I asked what they meant and they told me that my opponent was one of the best in the state. He had won the State Championship as a sophomore and then was runner up as a junior. He lost the championship that year in one of the biggest upsets of the year.  He had moved up a couple of weight classes his senior year but was still ranked #2 and was predicted to finish 1^st or 2^nd at state again. 

            My stomach did a couple of turns and the butterflies set in. I tried to calm myself down listening to some music and loosening up but I was so nervous that I had to run into the locker room to throw up. I decided I would just do my best and my goal was to last more than one round and at the same time I would not allow myself to get pinned at anytime in the match.

Homer Mariner Wresting

            Our match time finally came and I stepped up to my spot and got into the start position.  My opponent did the same and we sized each other up.  He was definitely bigger than me and more muscular. He had that "wrestler" look, with the big shoulders and almost no neck. I could picture him without his headgear on and imagined the cauliflower ears. We shook hands and waited for the whistle to begin. When it finally came, we both leaned in to lock up each others heads with our hands. I leaned into nothing but air as he disappeared to the mat. Before I knew what was happening I was flat on my back. He had taken both my legs right out from under me. My instincts were quick and I flipped off of my back to my stomach instantly. I managed to block his attempts of turning me over and he finally let me go. I was now down 2-1 and no sooner had the referee awarded my 1^st point and I was on my back again. This guy was so fast and I had no defense. I continued to work to my stomach and basically use stall tactics to prevent him from getting me back on my back. Then he let go of me again. I got up and received another point for an escape. I adjusted my head gear and found myself on the floor again. This time he just let me go and then took me down once more. 8-3 and there was still time on the clock. He let me go once more and again took me down like I was some little kid he was toying around with. This time he didn't let me go and the clock ran out with the score 10-4.  I was surprised I was still in the match at this point. I was still determined to not let him pin me so that was my only resolve. I selected the down position at the start of the 2^nd period and when the referee blew the whistle something strange happened.  It was something that should have never happened.

            One of the first moves I learned at wrestling practice was called the "5 on 2". There isn't a pretty way to describe it, so to be as delicate as possible, it means to take your 5 fingers of one of your hands and reach between your opponents legs from behind and gently grab the 2… you know what. The rule when using this maneuver is that you are not allowed to squeeze the 2 during the grab. This will upset your opponent and may even disqualify you from the match if the referee sees it. Squeezing is not needed much as most males react instinctively when the slightest feel of someone's hand grabbing at their jewels causes them to jerk their hips forward out of harms way. When they do this they are throwing themselves straight to the mat.

            Well the first thing my opponent from Kenai did at the start of the second period was the old "5 on 2". But he broke the squeezing rule causing me to yelp out in pain as I went flat to the mat. I couldn't believe it. I lost my train of thought and for a split second did not think about the "champion" my opponent supposed to be. I used my anger filled adrenaline to get back to my hands and knees. At that time my opponent stuck his leg under my stomach and put his foot and ankle through my legs. This is called a leg ride. I quickly lifted my hips straight into the air so I was now on my hands and feet with my opponent still attached to my back with his leg still wrapped around and through my legs. I lifted my head up and looked right at my coach who had a smile on his face. In that moment I could see his understanding of what I was going to attempt next. I had just learned the move the previous couple of weeks and had practiced it daily. I ducked my head and rolled onto my shoulder and into a somersault. At the same time I reached my arm around my opponents head and pulled him through the somersault with me. I ended up on my backside with the head of my opponent in one hand and one of his legs in the other. I pulled them together with all the strength I could muster and eventually pulled both of my hands together and clasped my fingers in a vice like grip. Now that I had a good hold I pushed my feet to the floor and lifted my hips causing my opponent to roll onto his back. I continued to squeeze his head as hard as I could and with my teeth gritted and my eyes closed tight I wrenched his whole body. In fact I had squeezed so hard that after the referee had blown the whistle he needed to assist me in letting go. My fingers couldn’t move even when I tried. I was so caught up in my moment that I had failed to realize that I had won the match by pinning the guy. I just thought that he had been injured or that the time had run out on the period. But I had actually pinned him. It was even a bigger upset than his championships match the year before. There was no attempted hand shake after the match as he was furious and stomped away off of the mat. I was once again in the middle of a team frenzy and it was great. There was no doubt who the better wrestler was, but that guy got a little too aggressive with his "5 on 2" and wound up losing.

My T-Shirt from the 1986 Region III Championships

            So those are some of my most memorable matches. At least the good ones. I had some great moments for a guy who had very little wrestling experience. But there were some bad ones too. Like after I qualified for the Regiona III tournament. Those who placed 1^st or 2^nd at Regionals got to go to the State Championships. I made it to the 112 pound semifinals along with Brad Baxter who was in another bracket. My opponent in the semifinals was a kid from Eielson High School. He was a military brat and he looked like he'd been lifting weights since he was a toddler. For the first time I was actually psyched out before my match even began. I was thrown around the mat like a rag doll. I didn't even make it to the second round. He didn't pin me but he had so many points just rolling me around on the mat getting "near falls" and 2 points each time my back was to the mat.

            I went on to place 4^th in that tourney after losing a close match in the consolation bracket. Brad Baxter took second after lasting nearly 2 periods with the Eielson brute. Our team took first at the tournament and sent 7 wrestlers from different weight classes to the State Championships. At the State Championships, 4 of our guys won the tournament including George Winn at 98, Lance Bailey at 105, Vince Littrell at 177, and Ian Pitzman at 191. Another 2 Homer wrestlers were runner ups.  We took first place as a team and as of 2016 is still considered one of the best teams in Alaska State High School Wrestling history. Ian Pitzman was voted most outstanding wrestler after finishing yet another undefeated year at 191 pounds.

            I was very excited about wrestling again as a senior. I had gained so many good friends. I had learned so much and had done so well in my first year. My confidence in myself was 180 degrees from before. I knew that I could compete at the State Championships the next year. I would begin working towards that goal right away.

            

The Joys Of The Teenage Aging Process

People who knew me growing up were very aware of my lack of musical talent outside of my tuba skills.  Though I considered myself a master at the tuba, my singing was not nearly as easy on the ears.  I had the unique ability to sing an entire song using just one tone.  They call it monotone.  It is very boring and to be honest, not very musical either.  Well, when I started going through puberty and my voice began to change, all of a sudden I was able to hear my voice better and was able to correct the monotone syndrome.

This made me more willing to sing in church with the rest of the congregation but I still did not have the confidence to sing by myself or in an organized choir.  Then one day I was messing around at the piano in the music room with my friends Tony Darling and Jimmy Holderman.  Jimmy's mom was the choir director and Jimmy was obviously trained well as he could sing tenor beautifully.  Before the end of the previous school year I heard him at one of the school concerts.  He and three other guys had put a quartet together and did a rendition of "Bobbie Sue" which brought on a standing ovation.

As we were singing and playing on the piano we were unaware of Jimmy's mom standing behind us enjoying our little musical playtime.  When we did finally noticed her, she walked up and introduced herself to me.  I told her that I knew who she was and she said she knew who I was as well. I was surprised by that and asked her how she knew me.  She said that the Band Director couldn't stop talking about his new tuba player.  I smiled at that and tried to show some humility.  "I'm glad he likes me" I said.

She asked me if I was going to try out for choir to which I chuckled and shook my head.  "I'm not much of a singer" I said.

"Says who?" She asked.

"My dad for starters. My sister, brothers and probably my mom, though she would be nice about it.  I can play an instrument but the voice is not impressive." I implied.

"Horse manure." She nearly yelled. "You have one of the most beautiful tenor voices I've heard from a young man your age. And it is natural which is even better.  Jimmy has a beautiful voice but he has had to work very hard at it.  With a little training you could be an All State Choir member."

Surprisingly, Jimmy didn't flinch at that comment.  In fact he seemed to be supportive of what his mom was saying. Jimmy was really good, too. I didn't think I could ever be as good as him.

"I doubt that", I said.  "I really have never sang much. Actually until a couple of months ago I was completely monotone."

Mrs. Holderman gasped.  "You're kidding."

"No Ma'am, until my voice changed I was completely tone deaf when it came to my own voice."

"Well all that matters now is that you can hear it today and I want you to try out for a tenor position in the choir."  She said firmly.

Tony patted me on the back and said it would be great to have me in the choir with him.  Jimmy also chimed in and said it would be good to have another tenor besides himself that could hit the high notes.  I shrugged my shoulders still tentative on the idea, but agreed to anyway.  "What do I need to do? I asked.

"Stand next to the piano and we'll do it right now." She said.  "I will play some notes and I want you to mimic my playing with your singing."

I agreed nervously as I wasn't at all comfortable doing my "try out" right in front of Tony and Jimmy, both of whom were exceptional singers. Mrs. Holderman played some runs that went up and back down and then jumped from here to there to check my hearing.  I followed along singing the best I could under the circumstances.  She would every once and a while correct my posture and showed me how to sing from my diaphragm for more power and to open my mouth more for more sound.
When we were finished five minutes later, she grabbed my shoulders and told me that I would be a 1st Tenor in the Choir sitting right next to Jimmy.

The next few hours I was in a bit of a stupor.  I never imagined singing in a choir and now with little thought or preparation it was going to happen.  When I told my Dad and Mom that I was going to sing in the choir, my Dad was nearly as shocked as me.  But he congratulated me and was happy that I would be able to add to my musical talents.

Melinda was not as excited when I told her.  She was already in the choir and had been singing her whole life.  I guess she didn't feel I had earned it like she had. Melinda would have her moment of glory however during our first concert. Unfortunately it would come at my expense and not due to her own personal performance.

It was the first concert in the new Homer High School.  I had been volunteered by Jimmy Holderman to do the solo for "The Lion Sleeps Tonight".  It wasn't hard to convince his mom either because I was the only male singer in the entire choir that could sing the main part so high.  There were three verses and I had the first verse all to myself.  The remaining two verses would be sung by the girls and by the entire choir respectively.  I have never been so nervous in my entire life and I practiced during every free moment of every day.  Later in the concert I would also have another part that wasn't for singing but was more of a funny thing and I was totally OK with that.  The singing part was causing me to nearly throw up.

I held it in however and gathered myself together as we filed out in a line and assembled as a choir on the bleachers that had been set up in the cafeteria area.  It was a large open area that had a second story with railing so you could overlook the cafeteria all around the perimeter.  People were lined up along the railing looking down upon us.  The rest of the cafeteria was set up with rows of folding chairs that covered the majority of the floor space.  These seats were completely full and there were people standing all around when they couldn't find a seat available.

I looked out into the audience and about half way down the rows on the left side I saw my Dad and Mom with John, Heidi and Rebecca next to them.  Though I wanted to make them proud, my nervousness elevated even more and I again held back the convulsive gag reflex and urge to spew.
The music began for our opening number and I tried my best to carry the tune with my fellow performers.  I knew already that the solo was at risk.  The first two words out of my mouth were barely noticeable as human.  I trudged ahead and tied my best to allow my vocal cords to warm up.  I figured that after a bit they would loosen up and I would be able to form real sound instead of the crackling warble that I so expertly released.

The first song finally ended, or should I said unfortunately came to an end, and Mrs. Holderman announced the second song.  "The choir will now sing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" with a solo by one of our Junior tenors, Horace Hallenberger."

I couldn't believe that she said my name.  What little of an Adam's apple I had at that age just about dropped into my chest cavity.  I stepped forward to the microphone in front of the choir and cleared my throat.  Before I could notify Mrs. Holderman that I was (or wasn't) ready, she cued the piano to begin.  My gut wrenched and I felt the blood in my head drain down into my feet.  I was going to pass out.  I could feel it coming.  But it didn't happen.  Somehow I remained on my feet and heard the piano crescendo to my intro.  My heart began to beat rapidly and before I realized it I began to sing.
It was supposed to be "In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight".  I know for a fact that is what I was thinking and that my mouth was forming those words.  But the sound that I produced was not classified as singing.  I may have been able to attract an elk with that unnerving pitch but even then the elk probably would have attacked me just to stop the racket.  It was horrible.  Not like when I was monotone.  Back then I couldn't hear that I was bad.  I heard it just fine on this night.  I continued the unintentional yodeling through the end of the 1st verse and before I finished I caught sight of my family.  My dad was slowly sinking in his chair to where I couldn't see his face anymore. Mom had her hand over her mouth and her eyes were wide with horror.  The only good thing I saw was John and Heidi happily enjoying their time out of the house.  At least I hoped that they were not enjoying my personal demise.

I ended my solo on a high-pitch squeal similar to that of a balloon as the air is slowly let out from a tightly stretched opening.  The horrified faces that were looking at me from the vast audience reminded me of what people look like as fingernails are dragged across a blackboard.  My Dad had completely disappeared below eye level and Mom's cheeks were wet with tears.  Even John and Heidi had stopped what they were doing and were listening intently.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mrs. Holderman let out a sigh.  Finally it was over.  She could now put her trust in the choir to take it from there and hopefully erase the memories of the past minute of dread.

I stood there as the second verse began. I couldn't move, frozen solid where I stood.  The world seemed to slow to a near crawl.  The song continued to play but, to me, was completely unrecognizable.  It was like noise underwater.  It seemed like it would never end.  I would never be able to get off that stage and lose myself among my classmates.  After what seemed like eternity, the song finally ended. I didn't hear it end myself, but Mrs. Holderman's hand brought me out of my stupor and back into reality, back into my moment of sheer terror.  As I refocused on the audience in front of me, I realized that they were all still clearly focused on me.  I shrank before them and slowly absorbed myself into the bleachers full of my peers.  It was like oil mixing with water as I entered their midst.  You'd have thought I was a leper as my friends avoided any contact with me as I passed by.  Once in my position I turned and with my chin to my chest stood quietly as the concert continued around me like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

I would never be able to show myself in public again.  It was all I could do to keep from crying. However, that would have just magnified my humiliation.  I tried to listen to the rest of the songs but I had no inclination of participating.  I heard soloist after soloist sound like angels and my misery became more and more dark.  As I stood wallowing in self-pity, another song came to an end and I heard Mrs. Holderman's voice again.  "We will now have a special fun number that the choir has been excited to perform tonight. Many of you parents will remember The Purple People Eater from when you were kids."

The next words from Mrs. Holderman chilled my bones to the very core.  "Performing as the Purple People Eater is once again, Horace Hallenberger."

The collective shock from the crowd was not hid as a combination of groans and whispers permeated up through the columns toward the stage.  My Dad's head once again sunk below the line of sight, only this time it was like he was one of the moles that pop up and down in the Whack-a-Mole game at the fair.  Even the best at that game would have missed my Dad's noggin as it was seemingly sucked down like a vacuum.

Mrs. Holderman smiled at me and nodded for me to get ready.  To my surprise there began to be pats on my back from the choir encouraging me to go.  So as planned I sat down on the bleachers where no-body could see me and I placed the cornucopia on my head like a hat.  Then I placed the glasses that we had attached a giant eye to on my face.  Some angel wings were then strapped to my back.  Before the concert I was excited about this part of the concert.  I thought it would be fun and make people laugh.  Now I didn't want to be seen even with a disguise.

The song began and I knew what I had to do.  Would my body obey the commands coming from inside my brain?  What if I clammed up?  The thoughts ran rampant through my mind.  As I thought of all that could go wrong, suddenly it came to me.  What else could possibly be worse that what I already had experienced.  How could three minutes of acting the Purple People Eater be worse than singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" like a dying raven?

Before I could rethink it, the first verse came winding down and my choir mates lifted me from my seat and launched me back out on the stage.  I raced around the stage and into the audience sniffing and acting like I was looking for something to eat.  As far as singing I didn't have to do much.  During the second verse I had to say in a hi-pitched voice "I wouldn't eat you 'cause you're so tough!"

The crowd really ate it up and I began to hear some clapping and cheers during the song.  It was such a relief that came over me that my energy level increased quickly and before the middle of the third verse I was hamming it up with the audience.  I danced around and jumped up and down and then I would say my line at the end of each verse.  "We wear short shorts" and "I like short shorts".  I sang them clearly and with gumption.

When the song came to an end the crowd erupted and we received a standing ovation.  Mrs. Holderman motioned for me to take a bow and the crowd was really behind me.  My Dad was even applauding my performance. For an instance I forgot all about that sleeping lion.

Oh Deer, I've Totally Fallen For You

The last time I went on a real hunt was before I left on my mission. It was October of 1988. Dad had planned out a weekend and we took my little brothers, Michael, Robert, and John, as well as my stepbrothers Mark and Josh. We had two deer tags and Michael, Dad and I were all licensed and carrying rifles. The rest of the boys would be along for the experience and to assist in carrying the deer back to the vehicle.

We drove up northeast of Boise a ways into our designated area. We grabbed some snacks and loaded our backpacks along with some drinking water. Everyone was dressed warm and had on good shoes and socks. We left the vehicle and walked across the street to a fence that we climbed over and began hiking up into the hills. After a couple of miles we were into a good place that we could split up and scan a larger area. The younger boys were buddied up with the older boys and dad, and we made a plan as to where to meet up later. We discussed what to do if a deer was sighted and the direction we should try to send the deer if needed.

Robert went with Michael. John and Josh went with Dad. I took Mark with me. Mark was the oldest of the younger boys so he and I decided to hike to the furthest point we had planned. It wasn't really that far and we were at our location in a matter of 10 minutes or so. We located a nice hiding place that allowed us to see the majority of the landscape. I made note of the locations where Michael and Dad's groups were.

Mark and I opened up our backpacks and had a bit of our snacks and some water. We whispered as we talked but soon sat in complete silence as we both scanned the territory for any sign of life. We saw some squirrels and a raccoon. We even saw a couple of foxes out hunting. This waiting went on for about an hour and a half. Then I saw a nice buck walk out from the treeline. It was a ways out but was not too far from where my Dad was positioned. I was hoping that Dad would see it.

I stood and began to wave my bright orange hat hoping that my Dad would see my signal. I was in a position that kept me from sight of the deer. Mark continued to watch the deer and it began to walk past my Dad's position and closer to where Michael was stationed. At about that time another deer came out of the same treeline. This was a smaller doe. The doe followed the buck for about a hundred yards and then they stopped and cautiously began eating the dry grass and brush.

We watched them for a couple of minutes and then we heard a gun shot. The deer bolted back towards the treeline. Another gunshot and the buck went down hard. A third shot and the doe fell just before entering back into the trees. I could hear hollering coming from my Dad's group.

Mark and I gathered our things and began to hike to the location we had seen the deer fall. When we got to the deer, Dad was already there with John and Josh. Michael was almost there as well. I asked Dad who got the kill. He said he had seen my signal but had a hard time seeing the deer. They walked completely past them and Michael and Robert saw them first. Michael got a shot off but missed. It sent the deer running back towards him. He got two shots off quickly both hitting their marks. The first being the buck and the second the doe.

All of us were pretty excited that we had gotten our deer. This would mean some good venison and jerky for all of us that winter.

Our excitement was short lived however as it was now time to clean the animals and haul them back to the vehicle. Dad, Michael and I gutted the deer and then we quartered the buck. Michael and Dad each carried a shoulder and Robert and Mark each carried a hind quarter. The doe was kept whole. We took the back legs and cut a hole in them right around the knee area. Then we took the front legs and threaded them through the holes of the rear legs. This allowed me to stick my arms through the legs and carry the doe like a backpack. The head was draped onto my shoulder. They younger boys took turns caring the head of the buck.


As we hiked the few miles back to the vehicle there were lots of ups and downs as there were many hills. We would stop every so often so that we could catch our breath. It began to get a little dark about the time we came to a little creek. Dad decided to lighten the loads a bit so we stopped and he cut out some of the bad meat from the buck. One of the shoulders was mostly bad from where the gunshot had hit the deer. This freed someone up so they could rotate the other quarters between themselves.

I was doing OK with the doe by myself. Even though it was now the heaviest to carry, it was made easier having it situated like a backpack. I would have to adjust it every 10 minutes or so so that the head was on the opposite shoulder.

We came to a small hill and we scaled it fairly quickly. When we reached the summit we noticed the opposite side that we needed to descend was quite a distance. Probably 100 yards or so. We didn't hesitate and began down the hill. about twenty or thirty steps in I stepped on a small rock that gave way and my foot slid out from under me. I felt the sensation of falling and tried to free my arms from the deer so that I could catch myself. It didn't work. I went down with a thud and right off of the trail. Before I could try to gather myself, my momentum carried my legs over me and then I went sideways.

I can only imagine what the next scene looked like to my family. I can tell you what I saw. First I saw dirt and rocks. Then I saw sky. Then dirt and rocks again followed by sky. This repeated itself more times that I felt necessary. Unfortunately I had little say in the matter. Between each view of dirt and sky I received a hard head-butt from the deer that somehow managed to stay on my back. I felt rocks in my side and on my legs. I felt bushes being trampled. I felt hooves in my belly and chest. I thought it would never end.

To be honest, I don't remember coming to a stop. My body was numb from the tumble and my brain was dizzy from the spinning. I do remember hearing a strange noise coming from the top of the hill. I turned my head towards the sound but all I saw was the open eyes of the deer staring deeply into my soul. As I gathered my bearings I slowly rolled over to where I could see where I'd come from. There was a trail of dust in the air that ascended to the place on the trail that I had recently abandoned. Near that point

I saw my family. They were also laying on the side of the trail. Had they fallen as well? No, they had fallen from laughing so hard. And the laughing had yet to cease.

Now I was upset. I could have been really hurt and they had the nerve to laugh at me?! I stood up and hollered back at them. "Yeah, well at least I'm already at the bottom!" With that I turned and continued hiking towards the vehicle.

It didn't take them long to catch up with me because I had trouble walking straight for a while on the trail. My Dad and brothers were still chuckling as we walked up to the vehicle. I couldn't help but giggle a little myself as they began to recount what they had seen. It definitely was hilarious from their perspective.

After we loaded the vehicle and we set out I turned to my Dad and said, "At least the doe will be nice and tender".

That sent all of us into a laughing fit again. We laughed most all the way home.

A little poem I wrote to my lovely wife about 11 years ago for Mother's Day. I gave it to her with a special necklace that had four pretty characters that matched our children to a tee. Hard to believe it's been 22 years since we started our journey together and that it's been 11 years since our family became what it is today. Love my little family and I love my beautiful bride.

You + Me = Them and Us

It started with me; I was looking for you.

And find you I did so then we were two.

Two was just fine but something was missing.

While we thought about what, somebody was listening.

Next thing we knew it seemed out of thin air.

Little Syveah was born, like a “mermaid” so fair.

So the two were now three and some thought it a crowd,

But to stop with one child was just not allowed.

Along came Amaya, she’s so eager to learn.

Now next to our mermaid we have our “bookworm”.

Now we thought we were done at least for a while,

But the stork called again and we could just smile.

Horace the third A.K.A Trey he is found,

Also answers to Trey-dawg, but to Dad he’s “Touchdown”.

So our family was buzzing like a little beehive.

Now busier yet as we grew six from five.

The addition of Jadyn makes our family so smug,

For all five adore our sweet “Jadybug”.

Eleven years later since we were just two.

Now we’re three times as many, four kids, me and you!

With each new addition my love multiplies.

For now that I see you through eight more bright eyes!

Yesterday - Poem of Jesus through His Mother's eyes.

YESTERDAY

Yesterday my son was born, a beautiful boy is He. 

Yesterday He smiled at me, and filled my heart with glee.

Yesterday I held His hand, so small and baby soft.

Yesterday I watched Him sleep up in our little loft.

Yesterday I watched Him pray to His Father up above

Yesterday He told me all about His Father’s love.

Yesterday I saw Him read, to quench His thirsty mind.

Yesterday I saw Him play with gentleness so kind.

Yesterday I heard Him teach about the things He knew.

Yesterday more people came, and He did teach them too.

Yesterday I told my Son, that I did love Him so.

Yesterday my son told me it was time for Him to go.

Yesterday I heard about my son in Galilee.

Yesterday I learned my son had caused a man to see.

Yesterday His letter came and silently I read.

Yesterday I thought of Him, as I beheld His empty bed.

Yesterday I missed Him so, and wished He were nearby.

Yesterday my selfishness did bring me down to cry.

Yesterday with little food, my son had thousands fed.

Yesterday a dear close friend, my son raised from the dead.

Yesterday He came home to me and slept here in my hold.

Yesterday He gave me strength thru love more precious than gold.

Yesterday He left again, yet I did wave and smile.

Yesterday my son taught me to go the extra mile.

Yesterday a friend approached and thanked me for my son.

Yesterday a stranger said, he knew my son’s the One.

Yesterday my heart was full of love for my son’s life.

Yesterday it broke my heart, for I learned of my son’s strife.

Yesterday the government asked my son to cease.

Yesterday my son did eat with friends a special feast.

Yesterday He prayed all night and bled from every pore.

Yesterday the sins of all, my son graciously paid for.

Yesterday my son’s dear friend betrayed Him with a kiss.

Yesterday His enemies did beat Him with their fists.

Yesterday they spit on Him, and whipped Him without cause.

Yesterday the wounds still fresh, yet the beatings did not pause.

Yesterday they sentenced Him, to death their judgment lacked.

Yesterday they threw stones at Him as a cross bore upon His back.

Yesterday they placed a crown of thorns upon His head.

Yesterday they cheered and jeered, knowing soon He would be dead.

Yesterday large nails were hammered deep in His hands and feet.

Yesterday His wrists were nailed, to insure His flesh's defeat.

Yesterday they raised Him up, high upon Calvary’s Hill.

Yesterday I saw my son hanging oh so very still.

Yesterday He looked at me and pierced me with His eye.

Yesterday I knew my son was not afraid to die.

Yesterday He spoke out loud to the Father whom He knew.

Yesterday He forgave them all, “For they know not what they do.”

Yesterday He closed His eyes and I did mourn for His sake.

Yesterday the sky grew dark and all the earth did shake.

Yesterday they moved my son, and placed Him in a tomb.

Yesterday I prayed for Him as I knelt within my room.

Yesterday I went to Him, to visit His resting place.

Yesterday I sought Him there, but He was gone without a trace.

Yesterday my son returned and glorious was His greet.

Yesterday my son lived again for I saw His hands and feet.

Yesterday my heart was full, for the mission of my son.

Today my soul rejoiceth, for I know He is the One.

Yesterday He died for us, and paid for all our sins.

Tomorrow if today’s lived right, we’ll live with Him again.

By Horace R Hallenberger