I have always been a big believer in fate. Even as a child I somehow knew that fate is planned into our lives and there is no escaping that. I am not implying that we do not have free will, because we do. I was educated in Catholic schools, so there were religion classes every day from grade one through twelve. The only times I ever got into trouble were in religion classes when I would question and argue we live our lives by our fate. Think about this, do we exercise free will when we are born? Do we choose when we die? I hope your answer is no. Now in between those times we do have some latitude for free will, but I do believe what we get out of life is predetermined. We never get more than fate allows now matter how hard we work and sometimes when we think we are on top of the world for a period of time, something we don't even see comes rolling in like the tornado in the picture above and sweeps what we are not supposed to have.
Speaking of tornadoes, our last summer on the farm in 2015 we were sitting watching TV when the weather guy broke in the scheduled program and announced a tornado was bearing down in the area. I was not too concerned at the first warning, but the second warning was 20 miles away and the 3rd warning had it on the ground at 10 miles away and our house was the bull's eye on the target. By the time it was 2 miles away I could hear it. Joyce and I put on our shoes to go to the basement and the little voice in my head told me, "Bill it is not yet your time" so we just sat back down and the tornado just collapsed a mile away and the sky cleared up in a flash. 22 years earlier a tornado came roaring through and caught me on the ground outside about 300 feet from the house. I could not make it to the house, but made it to the old barn. The tornado came right up the hill and hopped up, took out the top of my apple tree and did the same to an old maple in the front yard and did nothing to the house. It was not yet my time to go.
In 1965 I was in the navy stationed on Guam and in a flight crew, #4. The old times talked about how one guy was sick and another took his flight for him and the plane crashed. The guy who should have been in the crew should have died, but it was the replacement that went down and never came back. This has happened on commercial airlines many times. Half way through the year a friend of mine was on sick call from crew #2. Their plane was having problems with fire warning lights just at liftoff and the pilot would have to slam on the brakes and reverse the propellers to keep the plane on the runway. I was not happy to be assigned to that crew for a 2 week deployment that would cover thousands of miles over the Pacific ocean, but I had no choice. We didn't even get off the ground leaving Guam without having to hit the brakes and shut the engine down and back up from the end of the runway. Every takeoff during those weeks was a frightening thing. Not only that but not being a regular member of that crew I was assigned all the crappy post flight jobs like cleaning the plane, dumping the garbage (after a 14 hour flight with lots of meals being cooked and served) and best of all, emptying the big 8 gallon steel can that everyone deposited their undigested meals in, (fondly called the honey bucket) and the dump was just an open field on Sangley point Philippines. The stench was horrific in that field and some of the desperately poor in the area would scour the area looking for food left over from planes that flew in and out of there. That broke my heart to see that. I got back to Guam without a scratch and once again chalked the experience up to fate.
Once, my first time off the coast of Vietnam I was up on the flight deck of the Kitty Hawk for an evening launch. It was not yet dark so I didn't take my flashlight. It was my first launch and my job was to ensure the equipment in the plane was all working and then close the door as I left. There was a problem with the UHF radio so the pilot of the plane did not want to launch without it. I had to pull the radio out, run across the flight deck to another of our planes, pull out a radio from it, run back install it and by the time I completed that it was pitch dark and unlike on the carrier qualification runs off the coast of California where the deck lights shone brightly, on the coast of Vietnam there were no lights at all. I exited the plane and the 2 propellers on our plane sitting on a catapult were roaring and there was an old propeller attack plane on the catapult beside ours. I could not see anything, so I dropped down in a crawling position and scooted on my elbows and toes for 250 feet until I reached the island structure. I saw several men get killed from one thing or another on the flight deck in the 2 cruises I did on the Kitty Hawk, and I could have gotten killed twice, but it was not my time.
Last but hopefully not least, I have this below. I wrote it many years ago in 2004, but with fate in mind, here it is:
‘The River of Life’
I go down river seeking answers
But the answers aren’t always the ones I want to hear
So I seek more answers
The river is so strange
By the time I begin to understand
It’s altered and I no longer comprehend it
I hate to change
But change is the only constant on the river
No matter how staunch I am she transforms me
The river of life flows ever onward
I am but a twig on the river
I don’t change the course of the river the river changes me
The river never ends
But I will
Rivers endure people don’t
I can change the banks for a time
I can leave them alone
The river will always return to its true nature
Sometimes a rock will deflect me
Forcing me to revise my direction
But sooner or later I return to the river
To purposely deviate from the flow
Only complicates and delays
The journey I must make to complete my purpose
If I seem adrift in a marsh
There’s no need to worry
Perhaps I’m just resting on my way down river
Maybe I’m there
Just to spend a moment with you
On my way down river
Speaking of tornadoes, our last summer on the farm in 2015 we were sitting watching TV when the weather guy broke in the scheduled program and announced a tornado was bearing down in the area. I was not too concerned at the first warning, but the second warning was 20 miles away and the 3rd warning had it on the ground at 10 miles away and our house was the bull's eye on the target. By the time it was 2 miles away I could hear it. Joyce and I put on our shoes to go to the basement and the little voice in my head told me, "Bill it is not yet your time" so we just sat back down and the tornado just collapsed a mile away and the sky cleared up in a flash. 22 years earlier a tornado came roaring through and caught me on the ground outside about 300 feet from the house. I could not make it to the house, but made it to the old barn. The tornado came right up the hill and hopped up, took out the top of my apple tree and did the same to an old maple in the front yard and did nothing to the house. It was not yet my time to go.
In 1965 I was in the navy stationed on Guam and in a flight crew, #4. The old times talked about how one guy was sick and another took his flight for him and the plane crashed. The guy who should have been in the crew should have died, but it was the replacement that went down and never came back. This has happened on commercial airlines many times. Half way through the year a friend of mine was on sick call from crew #2. Their plane was having problems with fire warning lights just at liftoff and the pilot would have to slam on the brakes and reverse the propellers to keep the plane on the runway. I was not happy to be assigned to that crew for a 2 week deployment that would cover thousands of miles over the Pacific ocean, but I had no choice. We didn't even get off the ground leaving Guam without having to hit the brakes and shut the engine down and back up from the end of the runway. Every takeoff during those weeks was a frightening thing. Not only that but not being a regular member of that crew I was assigned all the crappy post flight jobs like cleaning the plane, dumping the garbage (after a 14 hour flight with lots of meals being cooked and served) and best of all, emptying the big 8 gallon steel can that everyone deposited their undigested meals in, (fondly called the honey bucket) and the dump was just an open field on Sangley point Philippines. The stench was horrific in that field and some of the desperately poor in the area would scour the area looking for food left over from planes that flew in and out of there. That broke my heart to see that. I got back to Guam without a scratch and once again chalked the experience up to fate.
Once, my first time off the coast of Vietnam I was up on the flight deck of the Kitty Hawk for an evening launch. It was not yet dark so I didn't take my flashlight. It was my first launch and my job was to ensure the equipment in the plane was all working and then close the door as I left. There was a problem with the UHF radio so the pilot of the plane did not want to launch without it. I had to pull the radio out, run across the flight deck to another of our planes, pull out a radio from it, run back install it and by the time I completed that it was pitch dark and unlike on the carrier qualification runs off the coast of California where the deck lights shone brightly, on the coast of Vietnam there were no lights at all. I exited the plane and the 2 propellers on our plane sitting on a catapult were roaring and there was an old propeller attack plane on the catapult beside ours. I could not see anything, so I dropped down in a crawling position and scooted on my elbows and toes for 250 feet until I reached the island structure. I saw several men get killed from one thing or another on the flight deck in the 2 cruises I did on the Kitty Hawk, and I could have gotten killed twice, but it was not my time.
Last but hopefully not least, I have this below. I wrote it many years ago in 2004, but with fate in mind, here it is:
‘The River of Life’
I go down river seeking answers
But the answers aren’t always the ones I want to hear
So I seek more answers
The river is so strange
By the time I begin to understand
It’s altered and I no longer comprehend it
I hate to change
But change is the only constant on the river
No matter how staunch I am she transforms me
The river of life flows ever onward
I am but a twig on the river
I don’t change the course of the river the river changes me
The river never ends
But I will
Rivers endure people don’t
I can change the banks for a time
I can leave them alone
The river will always return to its true nature
Sometimes a rock will deflect me
Forcing me to revise my direction
But sooner or later I return to the river
To purposely deviate from the flow
Only complicates and delays
The journey I must make to complete my purpose
If I seem adrift in a marsh
There’s no need to worry
Perhaps I’m just resting on my way down river
Maybe I’m there
Just to spend a moment with you
On my way down river
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