TWO PEOPLE DRIVING ONE CAR

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It was mid-afternoon, and Jean and I were on our way home from church, (or some other place long since forgotten.) She was driving our old green 1980 something Oldsmobile; a somewhat larger and heavier vehicle than one generally sees on the road today. We were traveling at 50 MPH, or more, and as we neared an intersecting road on our right, which was marked with a stop sign, a small blue car pulled into our pathway.

I could plainly see a man and woman in the front seat, and a little boy and girl in the back seat. I will never forget those precious little human beings as they sat there, eyes wide open, peering helplessly out the window, as our car swiftly approached them.  Less than 50 feet separated our two vehicles, and Jean proceeded to lock up the brakes. An accident was inevitable. As with so many traumatic events, time seemed to slow down. (Interestingly enough, I have read that this syndrome occurs because the brain is processing more information than usual in a miniscule amount of time.)

It was obvious that my wife had every intention of plowing headlong into the smaller car, (and no doubt, all the occupants of that vehicle would have been seriously injured or killed.) And though we were driving a much larger automobile, we also would not have been spared, since foolishly we weren’t wearing our seatbelts.

Suddenly, I just KNEW what I had to do.

I reached over with my left hand, took the steering wheel from Jean, and began steering it in a direction that would take us around the rear of the small vehicle. Amazingly, we cleared the back bumper of the little car by a foot. Both my wife and I found ourselves leaning hard in the direction of our passenger window. (As a result of that event, I can easily relate to the G-forces astronauts endure as they reach maximum acceleration.)

But our wild ride was only beginning. Our ungainly old car began a 180 degree slide. Suddenly, the back end was where the front end was just seconds before. Now we were sliding backwards. As the car lost momentum, we neared a wooden fence to our left which paralleled the side of a house. We finally slid to a stop in a grassy area, a few feet from the fence, very shaken, but not a scratch on either of us. 

As we ended our unexpected journey, I saw the little car as it turned left into the opposite lane of the four lane highway. The man didn’t even have the courtesy to stop and inquire about our well-being. The decent thing to have done, the only thing to have done, would have been to stop, especially since he had pulled in front of us, and caused a near fatal accident.

However, while this traumatic event was in the process of happening to us, another car pulled up to the stop sign. Having seen the spectacle falling together around him, I have no doubt that the driver watched in awe. The motorist asked if we were okay, and after we assured him we were, he drove away.

Only God. Only God. Nothing less than an abject miracle. The two occupants of our car and the four occupants of the other car might easily have died that day. And the spot which Jean fills in the audience tonight would be vacant, or filled by another, and I would be just as invisible now, and you would not be listening to the sound of my voice, nor been exposed to my obvious charm, or handsome face.

And I have no doubt He gave His angels charge over us that day, and when we needed a miracle, well, He gave us one. And I have no doubt, any one of you could step behind this podium and share something equally wonderful and amazing that our Lord has done in your own lives.

 by Bill McDonald, PhD

 

MY PEN PAL MRS. OLESON

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Pt. 1

It has been over 15 years since I took it on myself to locate the address of the woman who portrayed the "Little House on the Prairie" character, "Mrs. Harriet Oleson."

I noticed that Alison Arngrim, the young lady who portrayed Katherine MacGregor's TV daughter, had a Facebook page, and so I sent her a private message, and asked for her TV mother's mailing address. She was kind enough to respond and sent me her home/mailing address in California.

l immediately wrote "Mrs. Oleson," (not altogether believing I would receive a response from her). She had always been one of my two favorite supporting character actors, (the other being "Barney Fife," of "The Andy Griffith Show," portrayed by Don Knotts).

Three months elapsed, and I felt sure she wasn't going to reply to my letter, (especially since she was, by this time, 83 years of age). However, as 2007 gave way to 2008, I received a postcard from California with a very familiar name in the upper left hand corner.

Miss MacGregor took more than the usual care in responding to my questions, or at least the content of my letter. I had expressed how much I loved her gossipy, look down her nose, know it all portrayal of the Walnut Grove, Minnesota storekeeper.

Pt. 2

Following is the text of her postcard:

My dear Dr. McDonald (or William)

Finally, I'm getting around to answering some of my fan mail, and re-reading your letter of Nov. 20, 2007. It makes me feel terrific. It still amazes me that our TV show really became a classic. Yes, I do get a fair amount of fan mail - and occasionally I get one like yours - very complimentary but thoughtful - Thank you.

Tell me. What is Wikipedia? I'm not familiar with it. I loved your tribute to me and my character's self-aggrandizement, and then bearing the brunt of the actions chosen. Very good. All of the writers had a good time writing Mrs. Oleson's escapades.

Thanks so much.

Fondly, K.

On the bottom right, Miss MacGregor had drawn an excellent caricature of herself as "Mrs. Oleson" with the words, "Harriet Oleson of Little House on the Prairie" played by Katherine MacGregor

Pt. 3

Of course, I was elated, and having read the postcard several times, I added it to my autograph book which included the likes of John Glenn, Ted Kennedy, and Colonel Paul Tibbits (who piloted the first atomic mission over Japan).

I apparently wrote "Mrs. Oleson" a couple more letters over the next several years, though it is a fading memory. In one response, Katherine (may I call her "Katherine") referred to a book titled "Team of Rivals" which she had recommended to various people, and how that she'd heard Barack Obama mention it on TV. In her written account she told me that, "I puffed up like a Rhode Island Roster! I was so proud to hear him affirm my opinion of the book."

As you might imagine, I thoroughly enjoyed the original postcard, and this subsequent letter. But then... but then it got downright weird!

But allow me to regress a bit. I had previously made "Mrs. Oleson" aware that one of my distant cousins, "Janice Langston", had told me that she had been associated with Katherine in the local little theater production in her community.

Well, the famed self-aggrandized little Walnut Grove storekeeper would have none of it. She proceeded to deny knowing my cousin numerous times over the course of numerous letters over the course of numerous years.

Pt. 4

Katherine even wrote a letter to my cousin Janice, and asked that I forward it to her. Her letters to me on the topic, and the letter she wrote my cousin were laced with sentences such as, "I don't know her (you)" and "She (you) must have me mixed up with someone else" and "I have asked several other members of our production company, and they all deny knowing her (you)!"

Interestingly enough, it seems the members of Katherine's production company were primarily Hindu, many hailing from India. And it seems she was a Hindu convert herself, even during the time she portrayed the church going Mrs. Oleson on "Little House on the Prairie." (As a matter of fact, my pen pal missed the last couple of episodes of the show, as she was on a pilgrimage to India).

One letter really "got OCD." Miss MacGregor had written all sorts of notes on one of my original letters; all of which detailed the impossibility of having ever met my cousin.

I mean the ole girl was obsessed with this one thing, and continued to refer to it over the course of three years. Her last letter seemed almost belligerent in tone, and ended with,

"Please don't send me any more letters or photos. My fans have covered me up with stuff like that" (and) "I'm sending back everything you mailed to me" (and) "I'm just too old" (and) "This will be my final reply."

Post-script

"Mrs. Oleson" passed away seven years later having arrived at the grand old age of 93.

Based on the consistency of and content of her letters, Katherine and her TV character shared some similar traits!

by Bill McDonald, PhD

A BUNCH OF REAL CHARACTERS

 4283

Unlike some books which purport to be models of spirituality, the Book of all books, the Holy Bible, and He who inspired the Judeo-Christian text had and continues to have little or no interest in “false pretenses” or “putting up a front.”

For you see, the 66 books of holy scripture tell it like it is, and, as a result, the characters described therein are all too human, and their flaws are neither hidden, nor their attributes embellished.

Following are a few very good examples:

Adam was a lawbreaker

Noah was an alcoholic

Joseph was a slave, a suspected rapist, and inmate

Moses was a murderer

Rahab was a Gentile and a prostitute

Ruth was a Gentile and a migrant

David was an adulterer

Amnon had an incestuous relationship with his sister

Solomon was a polygamist

Thomas was a doubter

Peter was a double-minded man and denied the Holy One

Paul was a persecutor

 

I am so glad the Word of God described the foregoing characters with all their flaws, and all their deficits, and never attempted to cover up, nor embellish the traits which they exhibited. (And, interestingly enough, a large number of the characters I have described were direct ancestors of our Lord Jesus Christ).

Pt. 2

But I think what is most striking, and most relevant about the descriptions of these men and women are the remarkable changes which are revealed to us, as each of their narratives are recounted. And in so doing, God, in essence, says, “Stay tuned. That ain’t all, folks!”

 

Noah built an ark which culminated in the salvation of eight souls; men and women who became the ancestors of every man, woman and child who inhabit the planet Earth.

 

Joseph was appointed to be the prime minister of Egypt, and managed to save the lives of not only his family, but the entire population of that nation.

 

Moses spoke and the ocean parted, and several million people walked across the dry sea bed, and, ultimately, inhabited the promised land we now refer to as “Israel.”

 

Rahab saved the lives of the two spies who had been sent to scout out the land of Canaan, and was, like Ruth, an ancient Grandmother of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 

David killed Goliath, the pride of the Philistines, and became the most loved, and best remembered king of Israel. He wrote much of the Book of Psalms, and was a direct ancestor of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 

Solomon became king of Israel after his father David, is credited with writing three of the books of the Old Testament, was known as the wisest man who ever lived, and was afforded the impressive task of building the first Temple.

 

Thomas, one of the original Twelve, was credited with evangelizing the nation of India, and he, ultimately, laid down his life for the Gospel there.

 

Peter, one of the original Twelve, was the Apostle to the Jewish nation, and he wrote two of the books of the New Testament. Tradition tells us that he died a martyr’s death in Rome, requesting that he be hung upside down on a cross; since he felt unworthy to die the exact same death as his Lord.

 

Paul was the Apostle to the Gentiles, suffered greatly on behalf of our Lord Jesus Christ, wrote half of the books of the New Testament, and after a lengthy imprisonment was beheaded in Rome.

 

I think if the end was so much better than the beginning for such a menagerie of lawbreakers, alcoholics, prisoners, murderers, prostitutes, adulterers, and persecutors, (only a few which I have mentioned here) well, there’s definitely hope for you and me.

by Bill McDonald, PhD

I COULD RULE THE WORLD EXCEPT...

 4282

There is a story about Napolean in which he calls his subordinates together and pulls out a map of the world. Pointing to one location on the map, he says,

"I could rule the world, except for that one red dot."

Starring intently at the map, Napolean's lieutenants notice that their commander has placed a big red dot on the nation of England.

And in much the same way, I can see our natural enemy, Satan, holding a strategy session with his own subordinates. He, too, pulls out a map, a map of just one city, a city in Israel. Jerusalem. And like Napolean, old Slew Foot suddenly muses,

"I could rule the world, except for that one red dot."

Starring intently at the map of the holy city, Lucifer's lieutenants notice he has placed a large red dot on the site of a mountain, a mountain named Golgotha; the place of the cross.

by William McDonald, PhD

CIVIL WAR JOURNAL - Joshua Frier - Chap. 3

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REMINISCENCES OF THE WAR BETWEEN THE STATES BY A BOY IN THE FAR SOUTH AT HOME AND IN THE RANKS OF THE CONFEDERATE MILITIA

By Joshua Hoyet Frier II (My Great Great Uncle)

Chapter 3 – Lewis Paine

It was in the early part of the year 1862 that by chance I happened to meet the boy Doc Powell, who afterwards became the man of unenviable fame; Lewis Paine, the attempted assassin of Secretary Seward. I was the bearer of a message to his father who lived at this time in Hamilton County Florida. I had become acquainted with all the family, with the exception of him, prior to my visit there. 

I had heard of him as a very indolent, and worthless boy; the black sheep of the flock, I had fancied him as a boy of my own size. His brother, Oliver and I walked out to the barn to put away the horse I rode and found him asleep on the barn floor. Oliver aroused him, and when he awakened, he leered at us in a manner I shall never forget, and after rubbing his eyes awhile, the boy that was destined to figure so prominently in one of the most remarkable tragedies in this, or any age, looked me square in the face for the first time. I thought him one of the ugliest, and most repulsive looking boys I ever met; great coarse hair and a dull stupid countenance; slow and awkward in movement. Such was my first impression of the boy who as a man became the pliant tool of such a scoundrel as John Wilkes Booth. 

Later on in the evening, when I got better acquainted, I found him remarkably good natured. We wandered around a lake that evening and he pointed out his favorite fisherman stories which showed him to be a sportsman of the first-water. Among them was one that was of peculiar interest to me. He told me he had slipped off one Sunday morning with tackle for some sport and caught the devil. He had a terrible fight to land him and when he finally succeeded, he came near biting off one of his fingers and walked right back into the water. I asked him how he farther identified the “Old Man.” He told me that Uncle Green, an old Negro on the place, had told him the character of his game. From the description he gave of it I have since been able to make an alligator turtle out of it, one of the most vicious reptiles that was ever created. This one accomplished a reform that the fear of the rod never could; breaking a bad boy from fishing on Sunday. 

Before the evening was over Dock and I were great friends; all his repulsiveness had vanished, and it was with regret next morning that I parted with him. I exacted a promise from him to visit me at my home, and gave him a similar one in return, neither one of which was ever fulfilled. I never met him but once afterwards and that was purely accidental as he shortly afterwards joined Capt. Stewart’s Company of the 2nd Fla. Regmt. And I never heard from him but once until his father got a letter from him after Lincoln’s assassination. 

His father endeavored to go see him in Washington, but lack of funds prevented it. The old man was the soul of honor, no stain rested on any of his family with the single exception of this boy, whose full name was Lewis Thornton Powell. The old man died a few years ago in Orange County in this state; full of years and honor. It was circulated some years after Paine was hanged that the Elder Powell said he had yielded up his life in a good cause. This I am satisfied was an untruth. For while the entire family proved loyal to the South, Lewis excepted, (he having joined the United States Army at one time). They were too high toned and honorable to countenance assassination in any form. His brother Oliver, before mentioned, died or was killed early in the war. While the oldest brother George is still living in this state. 

Such, dear reader, was my acquaintance with the man, who for a given price attempted to take the life of Secretary Seward, and thereby coupled his name to one of the most atrocious crimes of modern times. While Paine’s execution was deplored by his family, and their sympathetic friends, it was generally acknowledged to be just as such penalties ever are. Of one thing, I and everyone are satisfied, that knew anything of him, it is this; that he was incapable of conceiving or aiding in the origination of such a fiendish plot as this. And in acting his part, he was simply clay in the molder’s hands. It was his nature to be easily influenced for either good or evil, and persons who knew him well said that any move or enterprise that had the element of danger in it had a fascination for him that he was unable to resist. 

It was said of his family that the fear of man was something they knew nothing of. Still, they were peaceable in manners, and courteous to all, and a more law abiding citizen, or better neighbor than his father never lived.

(Pgs. 13-18)