Eighth grade portrait, 1977.
In May of '75, my sister and her boyfriend were married and my nephew was adopted. My new brother-in-law found a job at a food processing plant in Boardman, about 40 miles to the west, and plans were made to move away from Pendleton. A new mobile home was purchased and moved to a trailer park in Boardman. By the end of August, we were moved and I was being enrolled in a new school.
At the time, since I was still in grade school, I had to enroll at the school in Irrigon, 11 miles east of Boardman. It was the elementary school for the district. The Jr/Sr high school was in Boardman. The custodial staff at both schools served as bus drivers. Every morning, the bus drivers/custodians would pick up students in their respective communities, drop them off at the school they attended, then with the rest of the students, took off, meeting at the halfway point between the communities to stop and swap drivers. Nowadays, as a school bus driver, I have to chuckle at this approach.
As we settled in a new community, I was glad to get away from Pendleton. There were too many bad memories in that town. Boardman was a fresh start. We had a new house, good income, and we welcomed the birth of my niece.
As we were beginning to behave more like a "normal" family, my sister and I had time to discuss spiritual matters in more depth. Although I knew of God, I was a rebel at heart. I resented the notion of God having standards and holding me to them. I would frame these standards as old fashioned and fanatical. My sister, who came of age in the 60s, was heavily influenced by New Age philosophies, astrology and eastern mysticism. These philosophies were more palatable to me than fanatical devotion to traditional religion or the Bible. They allowed me to keep what I liked about God but didn't require me to live like a prude. I was all about having fun. And who had more fun than my brother-in-law's family? They were always laughing and drinking whenever they got together. They more they drank, the more they laughed. Sadly, all the good times were not to last long.
We lived in Boardman a little less than two years. In the spring of '77, we moved the mobile home onto acrage we purchased in Irrigon. Soon after, we welcomed the birth of my youngest nephew. Life was seeming to settle; my brother-in-law was now a supervisor at the food processing plant and we had the ideal little family farm.
As you may have noticed, I have not been using names in my testimony. This is because, in light of the conflicts I have been referring to, and which I am about to delve into more, I felt it appropriate not to name those personally involved. I have done my best to spare the details of these conflicts as they don't need to be relived; they happened, that's all that needs to be said. I realize this decision not to name names may make for some awkward reading, it certainly makes for awkward writing. For that, I apologize and ask that you bear with me.
One exception I am making to not divulging names, is in the case of Chuck, the classmate I alluded to in the "Darkness" chapter. He invited me to his church, where, I again heard the gospel. There was nothing outstanding about him; He was a normal kid, very friendly and popular amongst students and teachers alike. But by him simply being there and being faithful to God, he was used mightily in my life. I'll explain more in a bit.
As you might have guessed, while the party atmosphere of family get togethers seemed fun on the surface, below, cracks were forming which would be the undoing of our ideal family situation. As I've said, both my sister and brother in law had hot tempers. The emotional instability and stresses stemming from the alcohol abuse began to manifest themselves in physical violence. After one particularly violent episode, I was left quite shaken. By today's standards, I would have been diagnosed with PTSD. Of course, I was expected to continue attending school as though nothing had happened. I did so for the most part in the early part of the day, but everyday, after lunch, during PE, the gloom of the episode would come over me and I would act out at the merest provocation. I knew my mood swings were the result of the episode at home, but what could I do about it? After one particularly bad meltdown, I looked up and saw Chuck. I KNEW Chuck was trustworthy. I HAD to speak to him about why I was freaking out. I took him aside at the end of class and explained to him what was going on and how I was unable to shake what was troubling me. He listened and with a tone of compassion, said, "My family and I will pray for you." That afternoon was the last time I was to freak out over that event. EVER.
Alcohol abuse is seldom left unaccompanied by drug abuse. As I entered high school, drugs would become very prominent in our household and in my life. Whereas, during the eighth grade, despite the turmoil at home, I was doing fairly well as a student. However, by my freshman year, I was on the lookout for any opportunity to get high with friends or family. My grades reflected this. Things continued to deteriorate at home as the violence continued and within hours of the end of my freshman year, my sister decided to leave my brother-in-law. My sister, nephews, niece and I ended up moving into a rental about 10 miles from the property in Irrigon. Thus, began the most debaucherous summer of my life.
I will get more into the "Summer of '79" in my next installment. Don't worry: I have no desire to go into detail. But despite the debauchery, God's sovereignty was well established in my life.
Until next time, Blessings.
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