Busted part 2

In 1971 most teenagers wanted nothing to do with VietNam. The war was still going on strong and enough families had to deal with dead or maimed sons. Soldiers who fought and came back to the States were vilified, spat upon and considered child killers. Plenty of demonstrations had taken their toll on the country. By the time I got out of High School, most teens wanted nothing to do with signing up for the military. I was no different, but I had nowhere to go. I knew I would flunk out of college and I feared the draft. If my draft number came up low, I would be forced into the service and dragged into an unpopular war. My parents had been harrassing me about seeing a recruiter for quite some time, so to get them off my back I went to a Coast Guard recruiting station. There were two men who tried to tell me how wonderful it was to be in the service. They told me about all the benefits and opportunities and on and on. I knew they were exaggerating everything, but they did say that the Coast Guard was not in VietNam. In fact, the Coast Guard gave all their ships to the Vietnamese years ago. That caught my interest. I could join the Coast Guard and get out of Wisconsin, not worry about the next four years and avoid getting drafted into the Army. 

 Unfortunately, before I could be accepted in the Coast Guard I had to pass a multiple choice test with 70% or better. I had two chances to pass. The first day I went I got a 68%. The second day I handed the test to the teacher and he graded it - I got a 66% which meant I had failed and would not be allowed into the Coast Guard. But strangely, that day the teacher had decided to give 3 answers to anybody with 66% or 68%. I passed with the lowest possible score. 

 I officially joined the Coast Guard in the summer of 1971. Boot Camp started in August 1971. I flew to Cape May, NJ, met John, another long haired guy who joined me as we travelled to the base. During our first couple of days we all got a kick out of the people who had long hair, because we all got our hair cut down to the scalp. Only one other guy had longer hair than mine. John and I spent the first week working in a Dental office cleaning up for them, boot camp didn't start for me until the following week. Toward the end of the first week John and I got caught stealing paint thinner as I mentioned in my last blog. He was thrown out of the service and I was to be placed in 2 extra weeks of Boot Camp in the Red Belts - designed to break even the strongest of wills. 

 I walked out of the Commander's office rather disappointed. I had hoped I would get kicked out and was geared up for that. I also told the Commander all about my drug life. But something happened to change everything. The next person I was sent to had more authority than the Commander of the base, because he wanted to put me into a company immediately and keep me out of Red Belts. He called the place where the next company was being formed... they had just finished. So I worked dish detail with the exiting company for 16 hours a day for one week. After one week of dish detail I was placed in a company and began 10 weeks of chaos. People around me complained about being in the service, "I'm going to kill my recruiter. This isn't what they told me." But I never bought half the stuff the recruiters told me, so I was not caught off guard. In fact, I expected it to be difficult for the weeks I was in Boot Camp. What I didn't expect was being threatened constantly with Red Belts. 

 Every day I saw the Red Belt camp running around the base being punished about something. Even in the torture of Boot Camp they stood out as the place nobody wanted to be in, and I most certainly did not want to be in there. Worst of all whoever went into Red Belts had to stay extra weeks in Boot Camp. During Boot Camp whoever gets 30 demerits is put into Red Belts for at least a week and I kept building up demerits; I didn't shave one day - demerits. My shoes were not up to speck - demerits. I was caught not being at full attention - demerits. I amassed 33 demerits and yet the Drill Sergeant never said anything. The Drill Sergeant was a young Mormon Priest. Sure, just about every Mormon male over the age of 12 is a priest, but I didn't know that then. I guess Mormons like to give out blessings like the Patriarchs of Genesis; at least it seems that my Drill Sergeant liked to. So on the last day of Boot Camp as we all graduated in our nice new uniforms the Drill Sergeant went one by one telling everybody how cool they were. "You have been a strong man, and you will lead well into the future." he told one guy. Another was complimented in a different way until all of us received some sort of compliment/blessing. When he came to me he said, "You gave me heartburn." That was all he said. 

 Something was going on in my life that was very weird; my Math teacher (Mr. Hiken) letting me get away with fireworks in school, my History teacher giving me an undeserved passing grade and now my Drill Sargeant overlooking my demerits. Until that year, I didn't get away with things like that. It was weird, almost like I was being led by something bigger than me...led to where, I didn't know, nor did I think about it at the time.

A Ship in Charleston

October 1971


I got out of Boot Camp by the skin of my teeth. After seeing my friend kicked out and after exceeding the amount of demerits necessary for putting me extra weeks in Boot Camp, and after passing a Coast Guard test I should have flunked, I somehow got out at the end of October with only one extra week.

I had 10 days of furlough (vacation) before I had to turn up for duty in Charleston, SC. During those 10 days I bought enough hash to keep me stoned until I made connections in SC for further supplies. I brough two grams of hash with me.

Charleston was a pretty Southern City with a great downtown area in which was one head shop (where I hung out looking at the newest pipes, and drug paraphernalia). I got to know the owner and his friends pretty well in the next few days. The owner was a Beatles fanatic. He loved the Beatles and had two copies of the Butcher album for sale - it was an album by the Beatles that was banned in the U.S. and England because it had the Beatles holding decapitated baby dolls with raw red meat strewn around. They were hard to find because they were either trashed by the record companies or rarely one could find the album covered up with a newer and nicer version of the Beatles known as "Yesterday and Today."

My stay at Charlston was only 10 days. During that stay while I painted, cleaned and did odd jobs around the station, the Coast Guard was going to let me know where I was going to be permanently stationed. I knew that it would be either NC, SC or FL, but I didn't know which state until the end of my 10 days.

There was a ship docked at the Charleston base that was called the U.S. PawPaw. It was a buoy tender that went out almost daily to clean and repair buoys. On one of my days on the base station one of the workers from the PawPaw ran up to me, and shook, saying, "Get me off that ship, trade with me, I'll go anywhere." I heard his tale about the ship that nobody wanted to go near. The Coast Guard district used it as a ship on which they could put their biggest trouble makers, and worse workers. Morale on the ship was as low as it gets. It was the punishment camp of the district. This crazy guy's haunting stories about the PawPaw saved me from a world of trouble in the days ahead.

Near the end of my time in Charleston two officers from the base came with a hat with four names in it. There were four of us who were to be transferred to permanent stations and the officers told us the names of the four stations. Two were on board a small ship in Tampa, FL, one was on a buoy tender in Jacksonville, FL called the U.S. Sweetgum and one was the PawPaw in Charleston, SC. We were told that after we had chosen our destination from the hat we could exchange with each other if we wanted. So we picked one by one. The first guy picked Tampa, the second picked out Jacksonville and then the third guy and I opened ours at the same time.

When I saw the one I chose a wave of terror came over me... It was the PawPaw in Charleston, SC. I thought of that guy who grabbed me and panicked. I looked at the guy who had chosen the Sweetgum in Jacksonville, FL. I knew he lived in NC and hoping he would prefer being closer to home asked him if he would trade with me. He said yes. I was relieved, I would rather have had Tampa, but was quite happy getting out of the PawPaw. While we exchanged the names of our destination, the officers both looked at us and said to the guy who took the PawPaw, "You will regret that one."

Six months later he was reported AWOL.

The Last Day of My Life as I Knew It

November 1971

I loved life. It could not have been better. I broke away from church and the shackles it placed around me in 7th Grade, I got out of the prison they called school after 12th grade, and I finally got out from under my parents' rule. I was free! I felt great.

I arrived in the Jacksonville, FL airport late in the afternoon and took a taxi to a hotel downtown where I spent my first evening in Jacksonville. When I had settled in I sat out on the balcony of my room and pulled out my pipe. It was a small pocket sized pipe with a load of resin inside from months of smoking pot or hash. I sat in a chair looking out over the city of Jacksonville while I smoked some hash and then went to bed. Little did I know that I would never again take drugs, smoke dope or get drunk.

Grandma's Prayers

Grandma Winnie was my dad's mom. Grandma used to tell me about the time she visited a Swedish Evangelical Covenant Church in WI when she was 11 years old. She didn't understand Swedish so she and her friend giggled in the front pews. Midway through his sermon the pastor stopped, looked at them and scolded them in Swedish. The 2 girls found out later that the pastor was telling them, "You may laugh now, but the time is coming when you will no longer laugh."

She loved us kids (all 7 of us) so much! We all took turns going to her house and visiting; it's something we loved more than anything. My dad would drive one of us to her house to spend the day with her as she took us to a toy store to buy a toy with $1.00. During the day, Grandma would shower us with love and individual attention. The days with Grandma were the happiest days of my childhood... until I got older. By the time I got into middle school I no longer looked forward to my days with grandma. My brothers and sisters and I all felt grandma was a sweetheart, but old and quaint and ... rather religious.

On one occasion after one of my brothers said something that was not good I said, 'Watch out, Grandma's praying for you." We laughed.

Finding New Suppliers

November 1971 It's amazing how fast drug users find others who use and others who supply. I boarded the Coast Guard Sweetgum in the early afternoon to report to duty and put to work for the rest of the day. By the end of that day I knew who my next two friends were and how I was going to get my drugs. My two friends weren't as heavy into drugs as I was, but they did use and could find me ways to secure what I needed. They warned me to keep drugs off of the ship because there were periodic raids. I was o.k. with that. 

Several months later I would look on the black and white photos of one of them with his face blown off lying with a pool of blood. His girlfriend said he shot himself with a shotgun, but nobody believed her. I often wondered, would that have been me if I had continued with these two friends? 

 During my first day on the ship I asked people what there was to do in Jacksonville. I was, in fact fishing for information about who did what with their time off. That was how I found my two friends. I also asked a guy named Brian that day the same question. He told me that some people liked to party and get drunk and others on the ship liked to go to church. Later that night I saw Brian talking about Jesus to somebody else on the ship; it looked like somebody had asked him some questions about his faith. I was cool with it. Brian didn't look like the Jesus Freaks that came to my High School, but then none of us looked like that anymore - we gave up our hair to Uncle Sam. 

 During the next day I worked on the deck scraping old paint off and putting new paint on until 5:00 in the afternoon. After work I ate and then showered. Now the shower was a community bathroom with several stalls for taking showers. I was just getting out of one when Brian came into the bathroom and told me he was going to the store. He asked me if I would like anything. I jumped at the opportunity because I forgot to bring laundry detergent. So I asked him if he wouldn't mind getting me some detergent. I, however, had to wait to get him some money and asked him if he wouldn't mind waiting while I got downstairs to get my money. A strange look came on Brian's face, a look that I saw over and over again with him in the future. Brian looked like he was struggling - struggling inside - struggling with his thoughts. 

Whenever I saw Brian with that look on his face, every time I saw him like that, something big was about to happen.

Born Again

All Soul's Day - November 1971

Brian had a strange look on his face, kind of like he was struggling inside himself, fighting with common sense or something else. I would see it again several times and every time I saw it something amazing was going to happen. He invited me to go with him to the grocery store and I accepted his offer. I went down to my locker, got dressed, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and we were off.

In the car I told Brian about my experience with Mr. Gunderson and the Jesus Freaks (see past posts). I really don't know what Brian heard in what I said, but his response was the most powerful words I ever heard... ever, "Satan is a deceiver and often comes in the form of God. There is only one way to God and that is through Jesus Christ." How he came up with this is still a mystery to me, but what happened inside of me was beyond words.

As Brian told me that Satan can come in the form of God, my mind went back to the times I talked to "god" on my acid trips. My eyes were opened - I understood clearly who I was talking to on those trips. As Brian told me there was only one way to God my mind raced to the years of my religious upbringing, I was taught to use the church, the sacraments, and the priests as a way to God, but Jesus was somehow so distant in all that. I never used Jesus to get to God.

In those two sentences Brian pointed to, and tore down, every "God experience" I knew or had. I saw that not only the drugs, but my whole life was tied to a subtle deceiver called "Satan." I say "subtle" because I never knew, suspected or guessed until that moment in the car on All Souls' Day 1971.

Within the millisecond of Brian's two sentences I was flooded with a wave of regret, disappointment and sorrow mixed with a flood of relief, hope and joy for knowing that at long last I was faced with the answer to life. I was overwhelmed.

Poor Brian. For the next 45 minutes as he tried to concentrate on his mental shopping list, I peppered him with question after question, after question. It was too much for Brian who didn't know how to handle me, so he took me over to Dr. Fowler's house.

Dr. Fowler was the President of the Full Gospel Businessmen chapter in Jacksonville, FL. The FGB was built out of a large group of business men throughout the U.S.A. They were also very Charismatic - something I knew nothing about - never even heard of them. Anyway, so we got to his door and Brian and I were greeted by this big (but not overweight) guy with a big smile that bothered me (I thought it was phony - too much - not genuine... you get the picture). But while his teeth stared right at me, I pushed aside all my feelings about it so I could find out what I needed to do. I remember thinking, "I don't care what he looks like, I need what he has to offer."

After proper introductions we sat down on a couch in his living room while his wife brought in some iced tea - a traditional Southern beverage. Brian told him a little about my questions and Dr. Fowler went right to the quick, "Do you want to give your life to Christ?" I had no idea what he was talking about; all I knew is that I wanted it with everything in me. So he and Brian got up and put their hands on me. Dr. Fowler told me to repeat after him - I felt uneasy repeating but would allow nothing to stand between me and getting to where I needed. So I repeated, "Dear Heavenly Father, I come to you in Jesus name. I know that I am a sinner and I know that I need you. Please come into my life. Forgive me for my sins, I surrender my life to you in Jesus name. Amen." Actually I don't remember what we prayed, in fact, I wasn't really paying attention to what I was praying, I just wanted to do what was needed.

I felt weird with two guys placing their hands on me and all, but again, it didn't matter - I had to get what I needed. After Dr. Fowler prayed with me he told me about a second experience that Christians can get called the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. Again I had no clue. And while their hands were on me the Dr. began to pray that I would be filled with the Holy Spirit. He stopped praying long enough to tell me something about a new language. I really didn't know anything about it, never heard of it before (although had I put 2 and 2 together I would have remembered the Jesus Freak at my school), but as soon as we went back into prayer I began to speak in tongues without any fanfare. There was no ecstatic feeling or anything, I just prayed in another language I didn't understand.

We wrapped up prayer and Brian and I headed back to the ship. It was a 20 minute ride of mostly silence. I was so mixed with joy and sorrow that I just zeroed out. I broke the silence only once as I realized how clueless I was about what I was getting into. I asked Brian, "How can live this?" While Brian struggled with that look, I heard inside the first words from God, "If I brought you from where you were to this point, how much more, now that you belong to me, I will lead you from here." Brian still struggled with what to say, but I didn't need whatever response he had. I knew already.

Hearing God was not the booming voice one imagines from movies. Instead it is a quiet understanding. Sometimes that all it is, but sometimes God speaks more clearly.

As I sat in the front seat and began making my plans on how to get rid of my hash and pipe. I thought I would have a great burial with some ritualistic celebration of some kind, but realized quickly that this would be what Satan would want - keep it where I could go back to it when I was weak. So when we got back to the ship, I went to my locker, grabbed the hash and my pipe and went to the deck. As I looked down into the dark waters of Jacksonville River, I prayed, "Lord, I have tried to quit so many times, but have always gone back to it. May I never regret what I am doing." I threw it all into the Jacksonville River and went to bed.

I have never regretted or gone back.

Feelings

November 1971

Brian was an amazing Evangelist. Under the impact of two short sentences I left one life and set out on a completely unknown path. I got rid of the drugs I had with me and woke up the next morning with a new feeling in me. It felt good, not euphoric, but good. The night before I was too perplexed, too much in the middle of so many feelings that I was like a conductor that had been overloaded with too much power. I was emotionless as a result. But the next morning I woke up and my feelings came alive.

I remembered quite clearly what had transpired the night before and I felt like God was in me. I was actually surprised that I felt this the day after my experience with Brian. In fact, I continued to feel great for several days. I felt like God was with me and accepting me. But days later I woke up feeling down, so I went to Brian and told him what I was feeling, "Is God angry with me or something?

Brian told me that it was natural to feel ups and downs and that eventually they should calm down to some degree. I think Brian was trying to tell me that I shouldn't guage my relationship with God on feelings.