At the wake of the crazy California Fires in the first week of November, Mom shared these thoughts from Ken Blanchard. Ken is a business friend of Dad's and is an author (The One Minute Manager) and speaker on leadership.
May you be blessed, encouraged, and challenged by Ken's thoughts. May our attitude and thoughts be on those things that are eternal... not just when tragedy strikes, but everyday.
From Tragedy to Abundance:
Reflections on Firestorm 2007 in San Diego
Ken Blanchard
Last Sunday night I flew to Naples, Florida to begin two delightful days of playing golf with some Cornell fraternity brothers, including Phil Hodges, who co-founded the Lead Like Jesus ministry with me. All of us had met 50 years ago.
On Monday morning as I was beginning to dress, I checked voicemail messages. There was one from my son, Scott. As I listened, my heart sank. He said, “Dad, Mom, I don’t where you guys are, but we just had to evacuate our house and have pulled over on the side of Pomerado Road before getting on I-15. Our house is a big ball of flames and yours must be gone, too. It is unbelievable.”
I had two immediate reactions. First of all, our Bible teacher, Rich Case, taught us that Jesus wants us to experience three things from our abundant life: joy, peace, and righteousness. Any time we feel anxious, scared or sad, we are trying to go it on our own and have detached from Him. So I held my hand up in a receiving gesture and said, “I need you Lord; I want to stay connected to you. I can’t go through this without you.” Then I shared what had happened with my brother and roommate, Phil Hodges, and we hugged each other in prayer. The feeling of joy, peace, and righteousness filled my heart again.
My second thought went to the words of my friend, John Ortberg, in his new book, At the End of the Game, It All Goes Back in the Box. As Chief Spiritual Officer of our leadership development company, I leave a message every morning for the almost 300 folks who are part of our family. I do three things during the morning message. First of all, I tell everyone who we should pray for – family members, dogs, cats, and people around our country and world in need. Having done this for over 10 years we have plenty of data on the power of prayer. Secondly, I praise people - folks in our company who have done heroic deeds. And, finally, I share thoughts or feelings about something I’ve read or experienced. About 10 days ago I shared an exercise I got from John’s wonderful book. I told everyone, “It’s 4:00 p.m. in the afternoon and you have decided to head home. There are two pads of Post-Its on your desk. One says ‘Important – Forever’ and the other says ‘Stuff – Temporary.’ As you leave your office, put a Post-It on anything you see – your computer, your desk, your secretary, the soda machine, the receptionist, your car, your house, your spouse, your kids – anything you see. Which Post-It do you put on what or whom? What is important and what is stuff?” I received a number of voicemails about how helpful that exercise was to everyone because it was people that got all the “Important-Forever” Post-Its and the rest was “stuff.”
Both reactions really put Scott’s message in perspective for me. What was really important was my relationship to the Lord and to people. I focused first on the people I love and who love me – my family, both at home and at work. Even though San Diego was under siege by uncontrollable fires, everyone in my family came through safe and sound.
By the time Phil and I connected with our friends at the golf course, I was peaceful and able to minister to them as much they did to me. Margie was at a learning conference in Orlando, and after she got over the shock of the news, we found out the roads to Scott’s and our houses were cut off to access. Since everyone was safe, we were advised to stay put.
That night when Margie and I talked on the phone before we went to bed, we both shared that our real sadness was about Scott and Madeleine’s home. They had spent nine months fixing up a house, one third of a mile from our home, that their blended family—three sons ages 9, 10, 15 and a daughter, 18—called home. The house was so full of hope and love. Marge and I both felt that if there was still a choice between their house being saved and ours, we would rather have theirs saved. That was my prayer as I went to sleep.
On Tuesday afternoon I got a call from Scott. “Dad, you won’t believe it! Our house is standing, but your house is gone.” I cried with joy, “Scott, that’s an answer to Mom’s and my prayers.” I shouted into the phone, “I feel so blessed!” Phil Hodges, who was driving with me, pulled over by the beach. We got out and romped up and down by the water, laughing and giving praise to the Lord. It was a very special moment.
It truly was a miracle about Scott’s house. Three eyewitnesses, including a police officer, had reported that Scott and Mad’s house was gone.
Margie headed home that day with longtime friend and colleague, Eunice Parisi-Carew, who had learned that her neighborhood had been evacuated, but her horses had been left behind. To her, they were her kids. By the time they landed in San Diego they found out that Eunice’s horses were safe. Margie settled in at the house of our daughter, Debbie, her husband, Humberto, and their delightful 2-year-old son, Alec.
When I landed the next night we all drove to the La Jolla house of our good friends, Sharon and Carlos Arbelaez. We first met Carlos and Sharon 30 years ago, the second week we arrived in town on sabbatical leave from the University of Massachusetts. About 20 years ago they bought a house across the street from us in what is known as The Trails in Rancho Bernardo. Below this beautiful location there used to be horse stables where the Arbelaez’s daughter, Diana, and our daughter, Debbie, had stabled their horses as youngsters. One night about 15 years ago I was headed to the kitchen before going to bed and passed the front door. Through the window, I could see flames shooting out from the Arbelaez’s roof. I yelled to Margie to call 9-1-1 and headed outside. Carlos was standing on our lawn in pajamas. I went up to him and said as I hugged him, “Carlos, this is awful!”
He said, “It’s okay - only things. Everyone is safe.” His words had been resonating with me ever since I’d gotten the call from Scott, so it was fitting that we spend the evening with them.
The next morning our offices in Escondido re-opened for the first time in two-and-a-half days. To welcome everyone back Shirley Bullard, our fabulous head of Human Resources and our great staff, had breakfast waiting for everyone. When Margie and I walked in, everyone applauded and hugged us with tears of joy and sadness.
At an appropriate moment, Margie and I were asked to speak to everyone. When it was Margie’s turn, she said, “I don’t see how we could have used our house more. It held company parties, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter holiday dinners for family and friends, and it had become an inn for out of town colleagues.” Margie went on to say the house had served us well.
At that point we decided to have a memorial celebration for the house the following Monday at noon at the company. This would be a time for everyone to come and share memories of times at our house. People from around the country could email stories, too. We wanted to give this wonderful place a proper ending.
That afternoon Margie, Debbie, Tom (Margie’s brother, who is President of our company), and I all headed to the site of our former home. When we arrived, Carlos and Sharon, Scott, Mad and the three boys, and friends Tim Vannervien and Pat Zigarmi were already there raking through the rubble to see if anything was salvageable. It wasn’t. As Margie and I walked down the driveway, our beautiful view was there but the house was ashes. Earlier in the day I had received a call from a dear friend, Tom Crum, author, Aikido expert and wonderful spiritual being. He said in his meditation room is an old Japanese quote, “Now that my barn has burned to the ground, I can see the moon.” That really took on a whole new meaning during that moment.
Margie’s reaction to seeing the devastation was, “I have no feeling for our house anymore. All the energy and love has been sucked out of it.” That is what we will put into our new home. To me we had lost a bunch of stuff, but what is really important and forever was still alive.
Last night we went to our church for a special service. Fifty-seven families in our congregation lost their homes. Our wonderful pastor, Bruce Humphrey, had everyone greet each other saying, “We are survivors and God is with us.”
