You may have heard parts of my story on the radio. You may have read the small 16 page “journal” that I published called Stating The Obvious, but I believe it is time to tell the rest. My name is Logan, and this is my story.
I was born with a double cleft palette which was operated on and fixed when I was a baby, however, it left behind a rather noticeable scar and my nose was often considered flat and off center by the other kids. For the most part, I didn’t really have a hard time dealing with that until I was in the 7th grade.
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I stopped at my locker to get the books for my next class. Most of the other kids typically grabbed all the books they needed for the next several classes, but I always figured it was easier to get them one class at a time.
“So, Logan, what’s your next class?” the pretentious kid with a neighboring locker asked.
“Oh, I know what it is…it’s ‘How To Pick Up Your Books in Two Minutes Or Less.’ Isn’t that it?” came another excited voice from my left, accompanied by snickers from the onlookers that started to gather around.
I just stood there, anticipating what was about to come.
“Why yes,” Pretentious Neighbor mocked, “I believe that’s the one!” he continued, knocking the books out of my hands. If I didn’t get my locker closed in time, the bullies would also empty my locker onto the floor.
Day after day, similar events happened. Some days it was different kids wanting in on the fun, but most of the time, there was one person behind it. Tony Belvidere. If there was trouble, Tony was there. He became known as Terrible Tony by the kids he and his cronies ganged up on. I never ratted him out, because I knew there would be even more consequences.
My parents figured that sending me to Living Waters Christian School would allow me to get a better education; one that wasn’t filled with the trash of the world. They had no idea that most of the children that attended came from families of doctors, lawyers and even politicians. My dad was a butcher and mom was a sales manager for a microwave manufacturer. Microwaves were the “big new thing” at that time. To me, those were both prestigious jobs.
Truth be told, I had everything I needed such as clothes on my back, a roof over my head, and even a computer and all the latest video games. My favorite toy was the state of the art model train set that my dad had put together for my brother and me. I just loved to play with that. In my opinion, my family was doing quite well.
I never really wondered why I was the target of all the teasing. Besides the fact that my family obviously wasn’t as “prestigious” as the other kid’s families, I knew it had to do with my birth defect. I understood that kids were cruel, but usually in a group of cruel kids, I found a few that would make a stand and be real friends regardless of what the other kids did or thought. I thought I had found one.
There was this girl named Linda that I had the biggest crush on. I thought she was the cat’s meow. She seemed nice, and didn’t seem to join in with Terrible Tony’s Cronies with all the relentless teasing. Plus, she was very pretty.
“Hi Logan, how are you today?”
After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I realized she was talking to me. I just couldn’t believe that she approached me in the hallway and struck up a conversation. I was unable to form words at the time.
“I was wondering if you would like to sit next to me in study hall.” I’ll never forget her smile when she asked me that.
“Um…ok.” was all I could muster up.
We walked together to study hall which seemed like it was fifteen miles away, yet it was only down the hall. We talked about our day and really seemed to be getting along just fine. When we arrived in the classroom that study hall was held in, we sat down next to each other. This was the only class that didn’t have assigned seating. I usually got stuck in the back with the other kids that were the targets of Tony’s Cronies, but that day, I got to sit up front where Linda always sat. The teacher wasn’t in the room yet, but that was pretty typical for him. He taught math in another room and usually walked in the room on the ring of the bell because he was always asked questions by students after class. The first bell rang. No teacher.
“Hey Linda,” Tony heckled, “You got yourself a new boyfriend?”
The class erupted in laughter. Including Linda.
“Oh yes,” Linda batted her eyes, “he’s so cute…I just love boys that look like they were run over by a Mack Truck.”
“Hey Logan,” Tony yelled out, “did yer mamma have any kids that lived?”
The class erupted with even more laughter. What they didn’t know is how much more that hurt, because I had an older brother that died at 6 months old.
I knew it was a setup; a cruel way to make me feel worse than ever before. And Linda was in on it. No longer was she the cat’s meow, but the lion’s bite. I wondered how she could do that to me, I thought she was different.
“Class, quiet down, now! This is study hall, and if you don’t start studying, I will start writing detention slips.” The teacher raised his voice above the sound of the second bell as he walked into the room. He didn’t even notice, or perhaps care that I had tears in my eyes.
That day, after school, I left crying. It wasn’t uncommon for me to go home in tears, but usually I tried to hold it in because mom kept telling me that the kids only picked on me because they liked me and they wanted to be my friends. What a load that was. I knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. But that day, I didn’t go home after school, Grandma and Grandpa were picking my brother and me up for the weekend while our parents were out of town.
“Why are you crying, Logan?” Grandpa asked sternly.
I just shrugged my shoulders, too proud to tell him why.
“Come on, Logan, be a man…for once. Hold your head up, there’s no reason to be crying. It can’t be that bad.” He threw in a few curse words as well.
“Stanley, just drop it.” Grandma said. “He’ll talk when he’s ready.”
“Oh no…he needs to learn that real men do not cry. Even his little brother knows this.”
That upset me even more. My brother, Rick, was favored by our grandfather. He could do no wrong. I absolutely hated to cry, because it made me feel like a sissy. Not only did both my father and grandfather hammer it into my head that real men do not cry, my younger brother almost never cried. At least not around our grandparents.
“Well, if you don’t stop crying by the time we pick up little Ricky from his school, we won’t take you to McDonalds tonight.” Grandpa stated.
Food was another escape from reality for me. When ever I felt sad, I would try to quench my feelings by eating. Now that I look back I realize it was only a temporary relief from my feelings, and as a result I was also overweight. That was just another thing for the other kids to tease me about as well. I did my best to quit crying, because at that time, a Big Mac seemed like the perfect cure for the cruel joke that Linda and the Cronies played on me.
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When I hit the 10th grade, mom pulled my brother and me out of Living Waters Christian School and put us in Temple Baptist School, which was our own church’s new school. It was an A.C.E. school. That is to say, Accelerated Christian Education where the students were allowed to work at their own “Pace.” A “Pace” was a booklet that had all of the student’s lessons and self tests, and then at the end, the student would take a closed book test that would be graded by a “Room Monitor”, which was basically the person who kept order in the classroom.
When I turned 16 years old, I applied for a music scholarship at Henderson Christian College. I told them how music had always played a big part in my life from the time I was about 4 years old. I told the story of one of the first times I had crawled up onto the bench of my dad’s Conn Theatre Organ and started plucking out a melody that dad had been playing just a few moments before. When I mentioned that both of my parents rushed into the room in shock that I was able to pick that tune out and play it by ear at such a young age, the review board members all smiled. Telling them that story made me realize that it was during those times I felt closest to my father.
My grandfather, on the other hand had little to offer in the way of encouragement for me when it came to music. When my grandfather had found out that I was applying for the music scholarship fund he decided that it was the perfect time for a lecture.
“You’ll never succeed in music. Do you know how many people try but never make anything of themselves? You’ll be throwing your life away if you don’t join the Navy and make something of yourself!”
I just stood there in disbelief and wondered how a grandfather could just tear apart his grandson’s dreams like that. “Grandpa, it’s my belief that God has opened the doors for this to happen. I’m gonna win that scholarship, and I’m gonna show you that I can succeed, no matter what you think.” I probably sounded rather mouthy, but I was trying to pay him with the same respect he paid me.
After I told the review board my story, I sat on the piano bench and played Bach’s Invention #1, which was the piece they had given me a month previously to learn for the test. I never had a lesson on the piano other than the quick impromptu ones my dad gave me. I played it flawlessly and actually received applause from the review board when finished.
One week later, I received a letter in the mail informing me that I had won a four year scholarship to the Henderson Christian College. One week after that, I also learned that my parents separated.
Their separation came as a total shock to me. As far as I had known, my parents had always gotten along just fine. Sure, dad was quiet all the time, but neither my brother nor I had any idea that there was trouble brewing.
The pastor of our church stopped by to have a “heart to heart” talk with Rick and me. Rick was four years younger than I. He informed us that our father had been having an affair with mom’s best friend, and that it had been going on for quite some time. Rick and I were best friends with the other woman’s children. It was many years before I ever saw my friend Anne again. To the best of my knowledge, Rick never saw his friend Eric again.
About two weeks after that news, Dad showed up at the front door on a day that mom had to work. It had obviously been pre-arranged. We just stood by and watched dad start to cook breakfast. Over the breakfast table, he told us that he was very sorry for almost breaking up the family and that he and mom had had a conversation and were able to patch things up. He also said that he was going to move back on the weekend. We were very happy about this and were able to forgive Dad with no questions. The fact that it was most likely we would never get to be friends with Anne and Eric again wasn’t nearly as important to us as having our family back together.
When dad moved back in, he wanted to be even more active in church. He became a small group leader; he got involved in a cooking ministry where he would cook meals on Wednesdays before they would go on visitation; and within a few months, he became a deacon. The biggest thing that dad did though was help mom open up her very own Christian Bookstore / Gift Shop. They opened it up as a joint business with some new friends they had met at church, Don and Frances Grover. My brother and I became very close to their two children as well and it seemed like God had replaced our friends from before. They had a girl, Robin, who was 4 years younger than I and a son, Michael, who was 4 years younger than my brother. Every day after school, one of our parents would pick us up from school and take the four of us to our house. The parent would then go back to the bookstore and we would play a game, or do our homework together. We were pretty close.
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I was getting rather attached to Robin, in spite of the fact I was only 16 and she was even younger than that. The problem with that was that Ron, another guy I went to school with, was dating her and he was actually one of the best guy friends I had ever had. Ron had some serious blood diseases and wasn’t able to attend school very often. Our school made allowances for him and he was able to take his Paces home. To this day, I don’t think I have ever met anyone that was as intelligent as him, though sometimes I think intelligence has a price; a lack of common sense.
He was quite the character. He loved to take things apart and try to put them together.
“So, Logan, I have this idea. You know that pool I have in my back yard? I am going to build a submarine and test it out in there.”
Usually when he pulled one of his ideas out of the air, I just dismissed it as another pipe dream of his.
“Oh, you are huh?” I asked. “And just where do you think you are going to get parts for that?”
“Follow me! I’ll show ya.”
We walked down into his basement where, to my amazement, there were what seemed like hundreds of metal pieces laying on the floor. I then noticed that one of the pieces was a basin and another was a door.
“Mom is getting a new washing machine anyway, so I figured I would take this one apart and build a submarine out of it.”
My eyes were as big as saucers. I told him I had to get home. There was no way I was going to stick around when this plan backfired. And backfired it did. I found out a day later that he was grounded for a month. His mother had planned on trading in the old washer to put it towards the purchase of the new one.
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Later that year, close to Christmas, after I went to bed, I heard my parents arguing loudly from the other room. I had never really heard them argue or fight before. It was around Christmas. I could not really hear much, but I was able to make out a little.
“I can’t believe you would do this again!” Mom was crying.
It was the last school day before Christmas break, and Frances picked us up from school and took us to our house. She didn’t really talk to much that day, she usually never really stopped talking. After she left, I took Robin by the hand and led her into the room where we usually played games, or did our homework.
“Robin, I think my dad is having an affair. I heard my parents arguing last night, and my mom was crying and she asked why he was doing what he did before.” I had tears in my eyes.
“What? With who?” she asked.
I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and couldn’t get the words out.
I’ll never forget that day. She got really upset with me and started yelling at me. “Not my mom. Why would you even think that? Why would you even tell me a lie like this?”
I thought about it for a while and decided that maybe she was right. Why would dad do this again? And why with my mom’s business partner? I decided that I must have heard the conversation wrong. Mom had told me before that if I wasn’t going to eavesdrop on the whole conversation, not to listen at all. I think I understood what that meant now.
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On Christmas Eve, my friend Ron’s mom hosted a party that she called a “Happy Birthday Jesus” party. We went, as did the Grovers. Ron’s mom told us a pretty amusing story.
“So, I ordered this cake and the person at the store was foreign and I couldn’t understand a word he said. I wanted them to make it say ‘Happy Birthday Jesus’ on it, and can you believe that the clerk asked me how to spell ‘Jesus?’ I can’t believe he didn’t know how to spell Jesus.”
My dad laughed, “You know, it really doesn’t surprise me much, I mean, if he was foreign, he probably had as hard of a time understanding you too. Besides, in his language maybe he calls Jesus by a different word.” He always was able to rationalize things.
“Well, I can’t believe he couldn’t spell ‘Jesus’ and besides, to call ‘Jesus’ by a different name is just…wrong.” She replied back. I am not sure she really got the concept of other languages.
We all pretty much let it drop because she was obviously going to be pretty stubborn on this point.
My dad was selected to read the Christmas story that night. He read from Luke. Afterwards, he just started talking about how thankful he was for each of us. He went around the room person by person and said something really nice about everyone.
He started with my mom. “Karen, I just want you to know how thankful I am to you for giving me a second chance. I am looking forward to many more Christmases with you. Logan, you have been a great son and you have really had to deal with a lot in your life. I think one day you are going to go far with God. He is going to use you in a mighty way.” That was the last I heard him say that night. He kept going, but I didn’t care. I had never heard my father say anything sentimental other than the obligatory “I love yous” before bed every night. I treasured those words that night. I still do to this day.
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On New Year’s Day, Robin called me and asked if my brother and I would like to go see a movie. We never turned down the chance to go to the theater. Twenty minutes later, Robin was knocking on our front door. Her dad and brother were waiting for us in the car. To this day. the movie remains a blur in my head. When we got home, I asked Don if they were going to come in for a while.
“No, we need to get home.”
When I went in, Mom was sitting on the couch crying. I asked her what was wrong, but I didn’t have to wait for an answer. I noticed that Dad’s coat was gone, as were his boots. I looked out the window and the car was gone as well. Mom didn’t have to tell me. I knew Dad had left again.
“Mom, did he…is he with Frances?” I asked.
“I honestly don’t know. He told me a little over a week ago that he was going to leave for a while to…find himself, but he wanted to wait until after the holidays.”
“But…what about his speech at Christmas? It makes no sense!” I yelled.
“I don’t know. I thought things were working out, but apparently he was just putting on a good show for everyone else.”
“I am calling Don and Frances. They need to know.” I said.
“No!” mom screamed. “Don’t do that. They don’t need to know about this.”
I disobeyed her order and called them anyway. She was too upset to do anything about it.
“Hello?” Frances answered.
“Did you know my dad was going to leave today while we were at the movies?”
There was a few moments of silence at the other end.
“Frances, my dad left while we were at the movies…did you know?”
“Yes. I knew.”
I hung up, trying to pick up pieces of shattered hopes and put them back together in my head.
Two weeks later, my dad called me and asked me if my brother and I would like to get together for dinner so we could all talk about something. I agreed because I wanted some answers. He picked us up and took us to a pizza parlor where Frances, Robin and Michael were waiting for us.
It was that night my dad broke the news to us. He was divorcing my mom. I knew also that he was dating Frances. What I didn’t know was that I wouldn’t see him again for two years.
We moved from that house into a smaller house on the other side of town because mom didn’t want to be reminded of the memories that we had in that house. It was the loneliest house I had ever lived in.
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“Why God?” was about the only prayer I could mutter that night when I got home. I didn’t want to talk to Mom; I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Part of me wondered if it was my mom’s fault, my fault or God’s fault. I wondered how he could just leave us like that, especially after those beautiful words he said just one week sooner.
When school started back up again, the days dragged on into what seemed like months. I didn’t endure too much of what I had endured at my previous school, at least not until one of Terrible Tony’s Cronies transferred to this new school when he was expelled from Living Waters for smoking. Brandon became the new “Terrible Tony” and was able to get the kids that left me alone for the most part to teasing me again. Honestly, I believe they only did it so they would be accepted by him and not teased as well. Fortunately, even though I was a target still, I had some people that stood by me. Ron was definitely one that stood by me, but he was in the hospital again, and was not expected to live. Randy was another that stood by me.
Randy didn’t really enjoy being at a Christian school but his parents forced him to attend. He believed in God, but he really didn’t want to live for Him. He didn’t want to put aside his music such as his AC/DC, Dio and many of his other favorite classic heavy metal bands. In spite of the fact that we often disagreed on music, we became fast friends. He was a bigger kid, so he sort of became my self-appointed body guard. More than a few times he would get right up into Brandon’s face to defend me. Once, Brandon received a black eye in my honor.
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It was finally my senior year in High School. I couldn’t wait to get out. Towards the end of the school year, all of the seniors were able to take a week off. Most seniors use this for a so-called senior trip. We only had 7 in the senior class, so we all kind of did our own thing. Some went to Cedar Point, one of the nation’s largest amusements parks, some went on vacation with their families, but I took a trip up to Jackson, Michigan to visit a college called Spring Arbor. I wanted to look into their music program and was given the chance to audit for a couple of days. They even let me stay in a dorm that had an extra bed.
Right away I could spot the difference between college and high school. The people there were friendly. I even got to hang out with a particular student for the day. He took me to lunch and dinner and even gave me a tour of the radio station that he interned in.
I stopped into the student admissions office at the end of my visit and got the forms needed to apply for loans and grants. I really liked what I had seen so far. If He wanted me to go there, He would provide the way.
The rest of senior year went pretty well, though I still wasn’t over the emotional hurt of my parent’s divorce. My grades were not as good as they should have been, and unfortunately, I was going to graduate with a 2.9 GPA. I know it should have been better, and I know that it could have been better if I had applied myself. I sometimes wish I could go back and re-do that part of life.
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School ended one week before graduation. Mom decided she was going to take me out to a nice dinner and buy me a graduation present as well. She asked if I minded if her new friend came along as well. His name was Alan Barker and she met him at our church, where she was now working as the day care administrator. Alan was a contractor the church had hired to repair the roof and was a new believer. While I wasn’t too keen on my mom having a male friend that wasn’t my dad, deep down inside, I knew it wasn’t fair to ask her never to date again, so I agreed.
“So, Logan, what college are you looking to go to?” he asked me.
He seemed like a nice enough guy, so I told him about Spring Arbor and told him that I was looking to go into music. He seemed very interested in what I was telling him. He told me about his four daughters, one of which two years younger than me, one who was about my age and the other two who were four and six years younger.
Mom took us to Red Lobster because she knew that seafood was my favorite. Over dinner, he told us about his business and how he never got to go to college and didn’t even graduate from high school but got his GED instead. After that, she took me to Penguin Music store where she bought my graduation present: my first synthesizer. Granted, it was not “top of the line” and had mini keys, but it was a synthesizer, something I wanted really bad.
One week after my graduation, my brother and I came home from seeing my friend Ron in the hospital and saw some suitcases sitting on the living room floor.
“Mom, what are these suitcases?” I asked.
“Oh…I wanted to talk to you guys about that. Alan and three of his girls are going to move in.”
I really had no idea what to say. My brother and I were in shock that mom was allowing him to move in after only having known him for a short time. Plus, Christians just didn’t do that. It was not long after that that Alan’s true colors started to shine. He was rude to people, he always told us how friends were a waste of time, and the worst of it was that mom just couldn’t see it. She had a great relationship with the three youngest of his daughters, Tanya, Brandy, Paula. We rarely saw the oldest one, Diane, who was already living on her own. Mom felt sorry for the girls because they didn’t have a mother that loved them. She was blinded by love, but to this day I don’t think she was in love with Alan as much as she cared for those girls.
Soon after they moved in, the two of them had a shotgun wedding. Alan also decided that we were all going to move. The house was too small. So we packed it all up and moved to Michigan, right over the line. They had found a really nice bi-level house and my brother and I got to have the basement as our room. At the time, I thought it would really neat, but there was little or no privacy. To make matters worse, Alan started ruling with an iron fist.
“Um…mom, why is there a lock on the phone? What if I need to call someone?” I asked.
“Logan, our phone bill is way too high; we are making too many long distance calls, so Alan bought the lock. Besides, during the day, you should be working, not talking on the phone.” She replied.
“Yeah, but I only work 5 days a week…and what if there is an emergency?”
“Don’t argue…we don’t want to upset Alan.”
My brother came upstairs and added to the conversation, “Mom, we don’t like Alan, and we don’t want you to marry him.”
“Well, it’s not your choice. I deserve to be happy.”
“Also Mom, he has told me on several occasions that I spend too much time working on music and I should go out and get a second job or work with him on his contracting job. I have no desire to do that. I don’t think he even thinks it’s a good idea for me to go to college because we can’t really afford it.”
“Well, he’s not going to keep you from going to college, but you should consider working a second job.”
I ended up working part time with him on contracting: tearing roofs off of houses, waterproofing basements, pouring driveways and remodeling kitchens. I knew nothing about that kind of work, so he used me mostly to carry things, and to do basic things. Part-time became full-time on top of another full-time job I had at a department store.
I hated working for him with a passion. I got tired of his double-life. At home he would quote the Bible, at work, he cussed like a sailor and told filthy jokes.
A few months later, my grandparents called and mentioned that they were going to go to Florida for the winter. “Would you mind driving by the house once a week or so and checking on it?”
“No, actually, would it be ok if I just…stayed there? It’s closer to my work and, well..it’ll give me good experience on living on my own, since I am eighteen now.”
“Oh, I’ll have to ask Stanley, but I will let you know.”
This worried me, obviously, because of my relationship with grandpa. He was already upset that I wanted to go into music at Spring Arbor, but I had to get out of that house with Alan in it. Astonishingly, my grandparents agreed that it might be good to have me live there so that the house would be occupied and they didn’t have to worry about someone breaking in and stealing their things. Of course, this really upset Alan, but I figured he could deal with it and get over it. If not, I didn’t care. So I moved in to my grandparent’s vacant house. I had to keep my legal address at my mom’s house, because I was not technically living in my grandparents house for insurance reasons.
I ended up deciding to wait a year before going to college because I knew my mom couldn’t help, and my dad was still pretty much out of my life. I kept working at the department store and ended up working in the cash office.
Dad eventually did come back into my life. One day he stopped by my grandparent’s house while I was home with his new wife, Frances. I think he expected me to just be “ok” with it. I did pretty well at hiding my emotions, I think. I wasn’t too pleased with either him or mom, but I blamed him for Alan, because if he hadn’t left, Mom wouldn’t be with Alan.
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I ended up filling out the paperwork for the grants for Spring Arbor that following spring. When summer rolled around, I was shocked to learn that I was awarded with a full 4 year Federal grant for classes and a partial scholarship for room and board from the school. That was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
My grandparents ended up staying in Florida, so I was able to stay in the house that whole time. When I got the good news, I called them next day to let them know that I was going to college the following fall, partially to tell them that I wouldn’t be staying in the house any longer, and partly to brag to grandpa that I made it into a music school.
With less than a month to go before leaving, I received an urgent call from the school.
“Um…Logan, this is Susanne from Spring Arbor College. I regret to inform you that your Federal Grant has been revoked. We are not sure why, but I recommend you call this number to find out why as soon as possible.” She gave me an 800 number to call. “Call us back as soon as possible to let us know what you can do.”
My world stopped spinning temporarily as I called that 800 number. I had found out that my grant was revoked because my mom’s new husband had not paid his Federal taxes in over 7 years. Why they didn’t go after him, I will never know. But they did take my grant away because of it. I called the college and told them that I would not be coming. They tried to talk me into changing my mind, but I would hear nothing of it.
I had decided at that point that God must have been mad at me, or perhaps didn’t care about me any longer. He allowed my older brother, that would have protected me to die before I was born, He allowed me to be born with these birth defects, He allowed the other kids to reject me because I wasn’t as good looking as them, He allowed my parents to get divorced and remarried to people that I didn’t accept at the time, and worse of all, He allowed my mom’s new husband to be the reason that what remained of my life was sure to be ruined. Where was God in all that?
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I got into computer Bulletin Board Services, which were a precursor to the Internet. You used a modem to dial a local number which was connected to a computer. They were much like today’s popular Internet Forums. I started finding local BBS numbers to call and hopefully meet people that had similar interests than me. There were three that I had found to start with. One called “The Shelter” which ended up being a Christian BBS, but I would login every once in a while and post my thoughts and made everyone think I was a good Christian. I found one BBS called Wolfen’s Den and made some friends there. I found out that they hosted role playing games in their basement on weekends, so I signed up to play. Roger and Deena seemed like nice enough people. They were into Dungeons and Dragons. I thought it would be fun to try out as I enjoyed role playing. It turns out he only lived about 2 miles from me, so I joined their group. When I first arrived and went down into the basement, I knew these guys took their game seriously. They had symbols, they had runes, and all kinds of magick paraphernalia typically used in the occult. I had found out they were Wiccans as well. I had no experience with what this meant, but by their definition they were peace loving people that worshipped the Earth. While I knew that this wasn’t of God, I didn’t care so much as God didn’t really seem to care about me, so I went with it.
Roger had a computer for sale that I really wanted to buy. He said I could pay $600 for it and he would take 6 payments, one per month with no interest, so I took him up on the offer. I didn’t really have an extra $100 a month to spare, but I didn’t care. I wanted that computer.
The first month’s payment came up, and I was about $40 short to pay him, so I gave him a call.
“Hey Roger, I am about forty dollars short, do you think we could just add that to next month? I am sure I can get the money to you by then.” I pleaded.
“No, I need the money now. If you can’t pay me in full, then I will just have to take the computer back until you can catch up. I can’t afford to get burned, and to be honest, you don’t want to burn me…” He replied.
It was kind of harsh, but I almost felt as if he threatened to put a hex on me if I didn’t comply. I decided I had to get that money any way possible. This is the hardest thing I ever really had to write or tell people, because for the most part, I was a good person. I minded my own business and I stayed out of trouble. On certain nights that I closed at the cash office, I stole the money needed to make my payments. I didn’t just take it from the current day’s safe, but from the next day’s till that I didn’t work on. Basically, I made it look like someone else was stealing the money.
I was able to pay off that computer in only 3 months time, but one day one of the girls that work in security for the department store came up to see me. She asked if I would mind coming downstairs for a bit, she wanted to ask me a few questions. Somehow, I knew I had been caught.
“I have to ask, Logan, are you aware that money has been turning up missing from the safe?” Jane asked.
I acted surprised, but I am sure she saw right through me, “Umm…really? I didn’t know anything about that.”
“Yeah, and it was really hard to track down. We made this little chart here that tracks every day that each person works. When money would turn up missing, we’d put a check by that person’s name for that day. The problem is, it took us a while, but we noticed that it wasn’t consistent. One day it would like one person stole it, then another day, it looked like someone else stole it.”
“Hmm..wow!” I said.
“Yeah, then we noticed something strange. It took us three months for this pattern to finally emerge, but do you know that there is only one person on staff up there that never had money stolen on their day?”
I could feel my face getting beet red. I knew right then my plan had failed. I thought, of course! It was so obvious, I should make the money go missing on my day as well, or I should have only taken money on a day that a particular person worked to imply them. Of course, when I look back on it now, I am glad that I didn’t make someone else pay for a crime they didn’t commit.
I finally fessed up and told them I was very sorry. She asked me if I knew how much money I took, and I guessed right around $600. She looked a little surprised, as if maybe I over estimated, which, I very well could have, but I felt guilty. I lost my job and was ordered to pay back restitution, which I did over a year’s time. She even told me that she could have prosecuted me because of my position, but they all really liked me a lot, and actually knew part of my story and didn’t want to do that. I know now that God was behind that.
However, at the time, again, I blamed God. Forget blaming myself where the true guilt laid, I wanted to blame God for the circumstances. That had been the worst summer of my life, first I find out I don’t get to go to college, and then I lose my job. And it was only just beginning.
-[]-
With no job under my belt, I decided to go apply for unemployment. Of course, I lied bout my termination reasons. I told them I got laid off. Somehow the state bought it temporarily. I ended up getting unemployment, but a month later I got a letter from them saying that my unemployment had been denied due to the fact that I was fired for stealing. I refused to move back home, so I started to look for another job and eventually found one at a grocery store deli. It paid barely enough for me to make my car payments. I did my best at inviting myself to people’s houses for dinner. Breakfast and Lunch were too expensive to eat, so I just did supper for a while.
I remember the phone call I received that would ultimately change my life. The call might as well have been from God Himself, warning me that I am about to get in a lot of trouble, but it wasn’t. It was from Ron. He called to tell me that he had just purchased a motorcycle and wanted to know if I wanted to take a ride on it and go buy tickets to see Phantom Of The Opera in Toronto, Canada. I didn’t have the money for that but figured I would just charge it. I really wanted to see that.
He arrived at my house an hour or so later and I hopped on the back of his bike. He let me wear the helmet since I was an “inexperienced rider.” Ohio didn’t have a helmet law, and still doesn’t to this day. The funny part about this, Ron had only had the bike for a couple of weeks, so he too was an inexperienced rider. The time was 5:00, and the traffic was as heavy as ever.
We were in the left turn lane to turn into the Ticket Master outlet when Ron misjudged the distance between us and the oncoming car. He realized after it was too late that he misjudged so he gunned it, causing the bike to spin out. The bike tipped over on its right, pinning my right foot under the back tire. The next thing I saw was the car coming just inches away from my head.
Consciousness kept coming and going, but somehow, my friend Ron was trying to help me get to my feet. As soon as I stood, we both heard the sound of my ankle finishing up shattering when I put my weight on it. I immediately fell down to the ground and started to go into shock. The last face I saw was the driver of the car that almost hit me. He introduced him self as Don Moffett. I recognized his name from running “The Shelter” which was that Christian BBS I signed up to. I don’t remember telling him who I was, but the last thing I remember him saying was, “I’m praying for you, Logan.”
I woke up in the hospital in the ER room. I found out that I would need surgery and that I would be off my feet for a very long time.
“Logan, we need to get you into surgery as soon as possible. You will be in good hands. Dr. Hui will be your surgeon.” The doctor assured me.
“Dr. Who?” I said, not meaning to be funny.
The ER staff cracked up and the doctor said, “No, Dr. Hui, but I bet he gets that all the time. We are going to give you something to help you rest.”
I woke up some time later in my room with my mom and Alan standing next to my bed. Mom, of course, was crying. My surgery was scheduled for the following evening. Alan, of course, put on an “I care” face for this event, but it wasn’t long before he was telling me how stupid I was for riding on the back of a motorcycle. During that speech a nurse came in and told me she wanted to show me something.
“Logan, you are lucky you were wearing a helmet.” She pulled out a helmet that was cracked right down the middle only being held together by a thing piece of plastic that had not yet broken. “You went down hard. You don’t even have a concussion.”
This again prompted mom to cry even more.
Alan didn’t let mom come see me every day, because he was busy with work, and she needed to run the business from home. I did, however, get one surprise visit that I just didn’t expect. Anne.
“Hi Logan! I heard you had an accident and I wanted to come in and see you. Do you think it would be ok if I had my pastor talk to you? He’d like to pray with you.”
I was shocked. I hadn’t seen her for years, there was no way she knew anything about my life and now she wanted her pastor to talk to me? What did I have to lose? “Sure, have him stop by sometime.”
She called out, “Pastor Jim, he agreed to talk with you.” He came in from the hallway.
“Hi Logan” he said as he said down on a chair next to my bed, “I just wanted to read to you from the Psalms. I came here with the intention of reading Psalm 23 to you, but God is prompting me to read something else instead. It is still from Psalms.” He read the following passage:
Where could I go to escape from you? Where could I get away from your presence? If I went up to heaven, you would be there; if I lay down in the world of the dead, you would be there. If I flew away beyond the east or lived in the farthest place in the west, you would be there to lead me, you would be there to help me. I could ask the darkness to hide me or the light around me to turn into night, but even darkness is not dark for you, and the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are the same to you. You created every part of me; you put me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because you are to be feared; all you do is strange and wonderful. I know it with all my heart. When my bones were being formed, carefully put together in my mother's womb, when I was growing there in secret, you knew that I was there- you saw me before I was born. The days allotted to me had all been recorded in your book, before any of them ever began. - Psalm 139 7-16
“I don’t know why God wanted me to read that to you, but I am sure you do.”
I knew this was from God, and that God wanted me back. “Pastor…I am running. I don’t want to run any more.”
That night, I gave my life back to God and Jesus flooded my soul with peace that I hadn’t known for quite some years.
-[]-
I had to wear the cast for about 8 months. During that time, I had lost my car and I had quite a few bills that sent me to collections. Mom pretty much demanded that I move back home where they can help me get back on my feet. They had just moved to yet another new house, and it was all one floor, so it was easy for me to get around.
Once I got out of my cast, I had started to attend this Christian Club up in Ann Arbor, Michigan called The Sonlight Club. I joined because I wanted to meet some Christian girls. I was 22 years old and had never been on a real date. I figured by 22, people can get past the superficial and get to know a person for who they really are.
I barely was there for 10 minutes when a young lady introduced herself to me as Melissa. We ended up going out to the lobby so we didn’t have to talk over the crowd and the loud music and I don’t believe either of us stepped foot in the club the rest of the night. We talked about everything from music to life. We became fast friends. Mom didn’t really like her.
“Well, she doesn’t go to the same kind of church we go to. You can do better than her.”
“But mom, we have a lot in common, and…I really like her…it’s just…she’s dating someone right now.”
“Well, I’d like you to maybe go meet my hair dresser. She is really nice, and she is interested in meeting you.” she said with a smile on her face. “And…you have an appointment to get your hair cut tomorrow at 4:00.”
I couldn’t believe it. Mom already had told her about me and pretty much setup our first date. Lisa and I hit it off really well also and we did go out quite a bit as friends. We never really officially dated because I never really was able to work up the nerve to ask her out.
Finally, after almost two years, it was eating me up inside. I had to know. So I called Lisa up on the phone.
“Hi Lisa, I really wanted to ask you something.” I said to her.
“All right. What is it?”
“Well, we have been friends for quite a while now, and to be honest, I really like you a lot. I was just wondering…what you thought of me.”
“Oh, Logan…why do you have to ask? You are probably my best friend in the world. I think of you just like my own brother.” Oooh…the “b” word.
“Brother? Are you saying that you don’t think of me more than that?”
Silence.
“Lisa?”
“I’m…I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you thought of me that way. I could…never marry you.” She said.
Time slowed down and my head started filling with memories of the past. “Lisa, I didn’t ask you to marry me.” I then hung the phone up.
A few minutes later she called me back crying. “Logan, did I just lose my best friend?”
“I…I’m not sure, Lisa. Let me ask you something…why…what is it about me that isn’t good enough to marry.”
“Well, I have a hard time getting past your cleft palette. I can’t imagine kissing you.” She was still crying.
“So…what you are saying is that physical appearance is so important to you that you would possibly pass up the opportunity to fall in love with the person God could have for you?”
Again, silence. “Yes, I think so. I guess…I’m shallow.”
“So…if you had a choice between a really good looking guy that had nothing to really offer mentally, and a guy with a personality that really compliments your own, you would choose the good looking guy? That is what you are saying, right?”
She just started crying. “I am so sorry, Logan. I hope you can forgive me.”
I was devastated. I called Melissa the next night. She was upset as well, and I found out that her and her boyfriend were having trouble. We decided to get together that weekend. We went out for Mexican and ice cream. We just talked. She told me that she was going to break up with him and that she really appreciated our friendship. She liked the fact that there was no pressure between us. We could be just friends without the pressures of dating. Of course, I agreed. I figured that maybe over time, God would change her heart. Instead, she got back together with her boyfriend a few days later. They tended to break up and get back together quite often.
She and I remained good friends for several years. I was starting to feel very lonely and she was always encouraging me.
“Logan, you are going to make some girl the luckiest girl on this planet. You are one of the kindest people I have ever known.” She would say.
“Well, I guess I am just waiting for others to find this out then.” I would laugh, but inside it hurt to hear her say that in a way. Her on again off again relationship seemed doomed to me. Why couldn’t she see the person in me that she said someone else will one day?
I think my other friends were getting sick and tired of me always complaining about how lonely I was too. Most of my friends were getting married, or dating seriously by that point which made it that much harder.
On my 27th Christmas Eve, Melissa called me up crying. Her boyfriend broke up with her yet again, and this time he told her it was for good. He met someone else and fell in love with her. She said, “I don’t want to be lonely for the Holidays.”
“Melissa, you don’t have to be. Remember how you said that I would make some girl the luckiest girl alive one day? Have you ever thought of being the luckiest girl alive? I would like you to be.”
“I don’t deserve to be. Besides…you are my friend. I would hate to lose that. You can’t date your friends.”
That shocked me. “If you don’t date your friends, who do you date?”
“Well, you date someone you don’t want to worry about losing for the rest of your life.”
She didn’t understand that risk is required in certain things. Without risk, you will never truly appreciate what you gain.
After I hung up with her, I realized something. I never really gave my loneliness over to God. I guess I didn’t really know what that meant. How do you give something to God? I just started to pray.
“God, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be alone and not feel lonely. God, I do not want to be alone any longer. Please show me that I am not alone with You in my life. I am done searching for a girlfriend, Lord. My searches have brought me nothing but pain. Lord, if there is a girl out there for me, please prepare her heart for me. If not, please prepare my heart for that. Do not let me live this life feeling alone.”
Almost instantly, I felt a peace about my loneliness.
It was only one week to that day that I met Susan. I didn’t meet her in person. No one fixed us up. I didn’t go looking for her. We just sort of met on an online forum. In fact, I didn’t even know she was a she at first. Her username didn’t really specify if she was a male or female. We exchanged emails before I even realized she was a she. She loved the same music I liked, she and I had just about everything in common. I ended up calling her on the phone a week later and talked to her for almost 5 hours. Somehow, God had done this. I knew it. I could tell that we had a chemistry that I had never felt before.
So I married her 10 months later.
I moved out to Oregon, where she lived, and lived with a friend of hers until we actually got married. I knew God was behind this. I felt rescued. I was redeemed. Someone like me that had almost no real friends in school, had had a life of hardships, and had been rejected a number of times finally realized that God had a purpose for all of this pain.
When I look back on my life, had one thing changed, I likely wouldn’t be who I am today. Had I not been the target of kids cruel jokes, perhaps I would have turned out like one of the cruel kids. Had my parents not gotten divorced, I likely wouldn’t have rebelled against God. The part that blows my mind however; had I not rebelled against God, I likely would not have bought that computer that got me connected to the Internet where I ultimately met my wife. Had I not have had the situations with Lisa or Melissa, I doubt I would have been the same person inside either, because even though we didn’t date, I got to know a lot about what it was to be loved by friends; a love that I was still quite new to at the time.
As you may or may not know, my life story got turned into a concept album called Stating The Obvious, by Midiboy, a band headed up by Gregg Hart. Because we were limited to what could fit on a CD, and we also took a little bit of creative license in the telling of that story to make it flow a little better, I wanted to write this story to give you an expanded insight of the life of Logan. I changed the names of everyone involved, but I can tell you this. It is very real, because many people have been affected by it. God has moved in it.
I should know. It’s my story. I’m “Logan.”
In Christ,
Gregg Hart
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