Sacrificial Suicide

The Tampa Bay area has experienced more than its share of wrong way drivers the past few years. And I think it confounds the average driver how such a thing could possibly happen; especially on well-lit, adequately-signed thoroughfares, such as interstates and parkways.

On March 12, 2016 another tragic accident occurred on the parkway in Tampa. John Kotfila, a deputy with the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Department, responded to the incident in a virtually unprecedented manner, and his quick thinking and the actions which followed go far beyond charitable. 

The newspaper report conveys it well.

“Deputy Kotfila's final moments were spent trying to help someone else. Sarah Geren and her boyfriend were driving home from Ybor City on the Selmon Expressway Saturday morning, when she spotted the wrong way driver.

"I was flashing my lights crazily at him like a strobe light.--click click click click, because I couldn't think of any other way to say 'Stop driving at me!  Please don't hit me!'" Geren said.

But before she knew it, Deputy Kotfila, who was driving right behind her, passed her, taking the impact in the crash that ultimately killed him and the wrong way driver.”

What kind of man is this?

It occurs to me that the two word phrase, “Sacrificial Suicide” says it well, and says it all.

I can only imagine the momentary decision and emotional dynamic it took to purposely pass the would-be victims, and place one’s self “in the line of fire;” realizing that in the space of a few moments he would almost certainly be ushered into eternity.

In the New Testament, John 15:13, we read,

“Greater love has no man than this that a man lay down his life for a friend.”

Deputy Kotfila did one better. He sacrificed his life for someone with whom he was altogether unacquainted.

And as a result, two precious young people were provided the wherewithal to continue living, and moving and breathing and loving; whereas, both would have almost certainly lost her lives that day.

His sacrifice of himself and all that lay ahead of him has impacted me in a profound manner.

May God hold this sacrificial law officer in the hollow of His loving arms, and reward him for having given the last full measure of devotion.

 By William McDonald, PhD. From (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 33. Copyright pending

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MARY

There are things in this life that I can never hope to understand. My daughter, Mary, and her ultimate fate is one of them.

Mary’s mother, ‘Dorothy’ and I divorced in 1980 when Mary was 8 years of age. Subsequently, Dorothy moved the children to Jacksonville; a distance of 200 miles, and a 3 ½ hour drive from my area of central Florida.

I like to think I did the best I could by my three children during their formative years, as I faithfully paid my child support, spoke to them regularly on the phone and did the ‘Recreational Dad’ thing one weekend a month.

And during Mary’s pre-pubescent years, she was the absolute most loving, giving, caring freckled-faced, red-haired little girl that you can imagine. If and when one of her siblings said, or did something which she felt was the least bit inappropriate, she might remind the offending party,

“Dad’s only here once a month. Don’t do that!”

Since I was a reservist, and as I had base privileges we would often picnic, swim or bowl at Mayport Naval Station. Without fail, as we pulled up to one of the several picnic areas, and I raised the trunk, Mary would scamper out, and insist on helping with the picnic basket; a basket which seemed larger than herself. Somehow, (I don’t know how) she always managed to get the thing to the table without dropping it; (and spilling sandwiches, soft drinks and tableware all over the ground).

At the age of 12, Mary was molested by her step-father, and upon reflection, it seems her demeanor and behavior changed overnight. (Strangely enough, I never discovered what happened to ‘James,’ as the result of his choice to do the unthinkable. I only know he was arrested the following day).

Ultimately, after having been heavily involved in promiscuity and the drug culture, (the second catalyst of which may have factored in) my daughter developed the mind-bending condition referred to as Schizophrenia. 

Without dwelling on a myriad of details, suffice it to say Mary exhibited all the classic symptoms, including hallucinations, delusions and paranoia, and has been in and out of medical facilities over the years; including two one year stints in mental hospitals. She has lived in a group home the past two decades, and has been generally stable, as the result of psycho-trophic medication.

Mary will never live independently, she will never marry, she will never own a house or a car. Short of a miracle she will live in the confines of an assisted living facility the remainder of her days.

As a Christian I believe in Divine Healing. My son, ‘John’ had badly crossed eyes as a child; when we ‘took him down’ for prayer at a large revival meeting with a nationally-known evangelist. The exact sequence of events is a bit fuzzy now, but my John’s eyes returned to normal immediately, or within days!

And yet, all the prayers in the world have not provided Mary the same kind of results.

It’s one of those things in which people talk about ‘putting it in God’s hands.’ So much easier said than done. And yet, when Jesus asked the disciples that poignant question, after some of his outer circle ‘fled the scene,’ 

“Will you also go away?” 

Peter responded with those oh-so practical words, (something for which he was not especially known), 

“Lord, to whom else can we go?”

I’m glad I experienced those blessed moments with my daughter when she was still a child, and before she began to exhibit the symptoms of her mental illness. I am glad that we could not have known how things would fall together for Mary. 

As Jesus said, 

“Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof.”

  By William McDonald, PhD. From (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 41. Copyright pending

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ANDY

There are some people you meet along the way that you will never forget.

Andy Bos was one of them.

As one looks towards the pulpit, he sat on the second pew on the right side of the church. He was as faithful to the house of God as a new clock, and his mind was as sharp as a tack; though his 9 plus decades had taken a decided toll on, (as scripture characterizes it) “the outward man which perisheth.”

His wife having pre-deceased him years before, and being “foot loose and fancy free” Andy began to date the widow, Naomi; another aged member of our church. It seemed the duo spent every available moment together, inside and outside the sanctuary, and were often seen at the local McDonald’s, the city park, the library, and other local venues. In spite of their obvious affection for one another, they never married. And their failure to enter into the blessed state of matrimony remained a mystery to one and all.

I was privileged to spend time with, and converse with Andy. And often, on Sunday mornings during our “meet and greet” time, we would converse about, well, any conceivable subject. But it seemed the focus always came back to “leaving.”

He was simply ready to go on to his reward.

(A second, “but well down the rung” topic with my aged friend, were the Hollywood exploits of his great grandson, the actor Taylor Lautner; noted for the “Twilight” series of movies. He often mentioned having mailed some of my Wednesday night topical presentations to the young man; hoping that these spiritually-oriented teachings would have an impact on him).

And though Andy lived in an assisted living facility, even well into his 90’s he did his own driving. At least ‘til increasingly frail health precluded his getting behind the wheel. And after one or two parishioners offered to transport him to church, and subsequently “petered out,” my wife and I took on what I considered to be a privileged responsibility to assure he had the opportunity to worship the One he loved, with those whom he loved.

Eventually, Andy “took to his bed” and prepared to meet his Maker, and travel to that place which he had referred to on an almost obsessive basis.

As my friend’s demise drew near, I could not help but visit with him one last time. And as Jean and I walked into his room, Andy awoke, opened those kind eyes for which he was so well known, and attempted a weak smile.

We walked over to him, and made the smallest of small talk. And then, I asked Andrew if he’d like me to sing to him. (He had often told me how much he enjoyed my solos, and I thought this sort of “send-off” would be a fitting tribute to him). He immediately acquiesced. Though I sing many of the same songs often, I depend on sheet music for the words. As a result I decided to sing THE national anthem of the Christian church; one that I’ve never had any trouble remembering.

“Amazing Grace.

How sweet the sound

that saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost,

but now I’m found,

was blind but now I see.”

I had hardly begun when Andy raised those frail little arms towards heaven, and mouthed the words,

“Hallelujah. Hallelujah.”

We took our leave shortly thereafter.

If we are to believe angels have names, I have often fancied the death angel who ferried Andy to “the other side of the Jordan” was also an Andy. (Perhaps I’ve watched too many “Touched By An Angel” broadcasts).

My friend was finally Home; with a capital “H.” No longer would he talk about it. Now he would had the inestimable opportunity of experiencing it.

The longer I live, and the closer I get the more I think about my eternal destination, (though I’m only 30 as long as I avoid mirrors). I used to accuse my friend, Andy, (behind his back of course) of focusing far too much on heaven, and far too little on this life. But as I get increasingly closer to my end, and increasingly further from my beginning, I get increasingly fonder of the destination in which my friend already resides.

And perhaps one day someone who follows will accuse me (behind my back of course) of focusing far too much on my eternal Home and far too little on the only home I have ever known.


  By William McDonald, PhD. From (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 31. Copyright pending

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 If you would like to see the titles and access hundreds of my blogs from 2015, do the following:  

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