Death Couldn't Convince Me

It didn’t look like they were doing much living in Aunt Bessie’s old trailer in Harrisville, just off the I-15 freeway. Matter of fact, it really didn’t look like anyone had even moved in. But I was hot and tired, and it didn’t take long after I had plopped down on the couch that I was fast asleep. When I arrived at Aunt Bessie’s café the next day, I called Bart Wallace from Aunt Bessie’s and told him I was back in town. He had to work that day, but from the moment he picked me up that night, we were back to our partying ways. I went to keg parties. I went to late night movies. We chased wild girls. We went up to the dam and went water skiing. The problem was that the only way to eat was if I worked at Aunt Bessie’s café because Keith Lee had no food in his house, nor did he have any shampoo or soap for that matter. Consequently, my hygiene went real bad, and my skin turned into an absolute mess. However, I did have a girl friend. Somehow, Kelly Evans and I still had quite a connection. She was still cute as ever, short blond hair, spunky, and charismatic. Consequently, even though I wasn’t eating, had really poor hygiene, and terrible skin, at least I wasn’t depressed, anyway, not as much as I was down in Albuquerque. Some days later, I came home to the trailer about six in the morning after an all night party. I wasn’t sure anyone was home when I entered the trailer, but I was too hung over to care. I found my way to the couch. There were no blankets, but I didn’t need one. By mid afternoon, temperatures would hit hundred and fifteen degrees in there. But early in the morning it was tolerable. I fell asleep. For some reason, I was attending an LDS conference at the Salt Lake City LDS Tabernacle. I had never been to an LDS conference. When the doors opened and I walked inside, it reminded me of the room where I saw Grandpa Palmer come forward out of his casket. The seating area was darkened, but the pulpit and chairs where the Prophet, Quorum of the Twelve, and General Authorities were sitting was lighted enough to make out their images. You could see quite well whoever was speaking at the pulpit. Soon, I found a seat right in middle of the main seating area. After I had been seated a few moments, President Romney took the stand and announced the program. It would start with the hymn, ‘More Holiness Give Me,’ sung by the Mormon Tabernacle choir; then afterwards, it would be followed by a talk from President Kimball, our prophet. The rest of the meeting would be listening to hymns sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I had seen conference on TV a couple of times, but it always looked boring, too boring to watch. One general authority after another would march to the pulpit, and then talk in the driest, most monotone voice, about the most boring subjects. At home it felt like torture, just having to sit in front of the TV for one or two minutes. However, somehow, this was different. It drew my attention. Maybe because it was live, but there was a distinct feeling. I felt godliness, holiness. More fit for the Kingdom More used would I be More blessed and holy More Savior like thee These words the choir finished singing before the Prophet came to the pulpit. In his worn out raspy voice, he said, “Dear brothers and sisters. We have been talking of Christ and his glorious return to this earth ever since I can remember. The Prophet Joseph oft times said that His coming was nigh at hand and this life was the time to prepare to meet him. You have the scriptures before you. We have read of His many dealings with the saints both to bless and to curse. He has blessed us eternally and temporally as we have sought to do His will, and those who have sought to work against Him have felt his cursing and corrective hand. All of you need to know that His day is upon us. Now is the day that we need to have all things safely gathered. Now is the day that we need to have oil in our lamps. Now is the time that we will see the wheat separated from the chaff . . . ,” As the prophet continued, the people in the seats around me started pointing at the domed ceiling. Suddenly, the prophet stopped speaking as everyone looked up. It started very faint, but continued to grow. “Oh, my-gosh,” I heard from the people behind. “Oh . . . , my . . . , gosh,” came from the people all around. Suddenly, what was small began to take shape. I could see the outline of a human body begin to move down. He was dressed in white, moving down from the ceiling in a beam of light. His body kept growing larger and larger as he moved closer and closer. Soon He was floating in the air above me. I don’t know where the light was coming from, but it was on him and nowhere else. He stretched out his arms and slowly started to turn so all could see the marks in his hands. As he continued to rotate, looking out over the vast crowd that had congregated, most of the audience turned to tears, but oddly, every once in a while a frightened shriek could be heard. “Oh . . . my . . . gosh,” was all that I could think of as He slowly turned, moving to where I could see the outline of His face. Surprisingly, His face was covered by old, white-swaddling-rags. As he continued to turn, the swaddling rags began to unravel. He stopped turning when he caught my eye, facing square in front of me. I was staring deep into His eyes, sapphires that recorded the pain of all time. While gazing into His deep dark eyes, the swaddling rags fell away. “AAAAAAAAH,” I screamed, so loudly that I woke myself up. It felt like it was 300 degrees in there. My body was covered in sweat. The trailer was hot and musty. The sun was beating down through the windows that faced the west. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was still in shock. I had never been so scared. I got up and started to pace. Life continued to get worse. Keith Lee and Vicki ended up separating for a while. During the separation, Vicki found a house for rent on Keisel Drive, between 27th and 28th, just below Monroe Blvd. With her job as a gasoline attendant she paid for rent and there was no money for food. The cupboards were always empty. Just before school started, Keith Lee moved in and that only served to make things worse because he would stay up all night talking on his CB radio and smoking miniature cigars. In the mornings, I would desperately try to find something in the house to eat, flour, canned, milk, anything, but generally there was nothing. After eating some sort of condiment, I would leave the house on my seven mile run to school. With no shampoo or hygiene products, the odor of the cigars combined with my sweat to make for a horrific smell. Pretty soon, even my friends from South Ogden were avoiding me. In football, however, I was really starting to come into my own. Having to run everywhere in order to get where I needed to be was making me pretty fast. Also, when I hit people, having not eaten anything for what seemed like weeks, I not only wanted to take their heads off, I wanted to eat them too. Still though, none of the coaches understood my situation, nor do I think they really cared. A couple games into the season, they tried to make me the JV quarterback. I was having a great year at safety on the sophomore team. I was the team captain and our defense was invincible. In addition, if anyone should have been called up to play quarterback for the JV team it should have been Bart Hodges, the sophomore quarterback. However, I think they didn’t want to mess him up so they moved me instead. Quarterbacking is mostly about leadership, gaining the respect of the players so they’ll follow your lead. This was the first year I had ever played quarterback. I knew I was a psychological mess, and I wasn’t ready. I started messing up left and right. A couple games into it, I made it known that I felt I needed to go back to the sophomore team and play safety.