JFK AND ME

JFK was coming to town.

It was in my first year of seminary in Berkeley, California, and the president of the United States was making a political visit to one of the most radical towns in the USA. His route was mapped out in the newspaper, so a friend and I drove downtown to get a glimpse of the man.

We were looking for a strategic parking spot, but we couldn’t find anything. Not one empty parking place in town. People from all over the Bay area had the same idea my friend and I had. Disappointed, we drove to a shopping area on the outskirts of town, nowhere near his route. We parked and thought we’d shop for some books.

As we walked up to a corner, we noticed a motorcade coming our way. Hardly anybody on the sidewalks. Everybody was where we had intended to be.

Then, it hit me.

“That’s the president’s motorcade,” I told my friend. “Can’t be two motorcades in town the same day.”

We froze on the corner, and sure enough, there he was. Sitting in the backseat of a convertible, the tanned JFK smiled and waved at us as his car slowed down to turn the corner. We were ten feet from the most powerful man in the free world. We couldn’t believe it. He looked just like any other human being.

Later, that evening, the news reported the president had to take a different route because of a threat on his life.

A route right by us.

HINDSIGHT: I thought it was coincidence when it happened. Now, I’m not so sure God didn’t cause us to reach that corner just in time to clearly see JFK, whose car had to slow down to make the turn. God is the master of timing.

CELEBRITY CRASH

I grew up in southern California with Disneyland only a few miles away. One day, while in high school, I had one of my embarrasing moments. Some buddies and I went to the famous theme park, the same day they were opening the Swiss Family Robinson Tree House.

Walt Disney, of course, was host for the event. The same man who had patted me on the head when, as a kid, I was vacationing in Hawaii. We stood in the crowd for a few minutes, watching the ceremonies, and then went on our way.

As my buddies and I were walking along, I started putting on a show for them, saying things like, "Yeah, Walt and I go back a long ways. At one time, we were really close." I went on and on, milking that head patting incident for all it was worth - and then some. Of course, I had my head turned to my friends as I was walking and talking.

Suddenly, I crashed into someone walking my way. I quickly grabbed the person to keep from falling, apologizing at the same time, only to feel my face flush red when I realized it was Walt Disney I was holding onto. Strange, for some reason, he didn't recognize me. All of my boasting burst like a balloon at the opening ceremonies. As the great man walked away my friends couldn't contain themselves.

Nor did they want to.

"Hey, Wes," one of them said, splitting his sides, "Walt must be losing his eyesight. He didn't know it was you, his good 'ol friend."

Hindsight: God has His own "fun" ways of bringing us back to reality.

A PAT ON THE HEAD

I was eight years old when my dad passed away. Shortly afterward, my mother took my sister and me on a cruise to the Hawaiian islands, mainly to get a new start.

The Royal Hawaiian Hotel on Waikiki Beach was our home base, and we did all the tourist things, including taking advantage of the ocean in our "front yard."

However, my most memorable moment was standing on the back patio of the hotel watching the hula dancers perform. One of the girls then brought out an older guy to teach him to hula. Of course, it was all just for laughs.

As I was laughing, I felt a couple of pats on the top of my head. I thought it was probably my mom. So, you can imagine my surprise as I turned my head and looked up into the face of Walt Disney.

He smiled at me and said, “The girls are a lot better than that old guy, aren’t they, sonny?”

I smiled back, and muttered something like, “Uh, yeah.”

That was the best I could do.

I couldn’t believe that Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, Pluto, and Goofy, all rolled into one man was standing next to me, talking to me...with his hand still on my head. I thought I had a great excuse not to wash for a long time, but my mom didn't buy into my thinking.

Hindsight: Sometimes, in the routine things of life, God brings excitement to us. We don’t have to go looking for it.