My duty was to deliver a DVD of Lies of Omission to Larry Pratt, then, on the way to the screening on May 20th in Canon City, CO, I wanted to stop by David Codrea and one of our producers Eben Hawkins. Eben has been a stalwart and a dedicated part of this film. I looked forward to meeting him and talking about the film, letting him have his say as to what he thought could be better.
Eben and I spent some time roaming the hills where he lives, checking out coal mines and oil wells. A new puppy was being brought along on behavior, we had some breakfast and watched Lies of Omission. Some constructive criticism was exchanged and finally, we parted ways.
I called to see if David Codrea would be able to see me and watch the film. When he responded that he would I headed in that direction, a few hours further on and I arrived at his house. We had some single-malt and a great conversation with his two bright and inquisitive sons. It was one of those evenings that stay with me long into my life.
So, as I headed to Colorado, feeling pretty sure that I was going to make it there in plenty of time to do some last minute "get out the vote" campaigns to drive people to the Screening we had set up. It all seemed pretty good, the film had been positively received by Eben and David and Larry hadn't had time to view it yet. I was still thinking about the phone call David made for me that put me in touch with Mark Walters of Armed American Radio, when the sun started to break over the flatlands in Eastern Colorado.
Now, I had been aware of a cold front, a snowstorm bearing down on Colorado that weekend and I had made phone calls to see how it "really" was where I was heading. But then, I was caught completely by surprise by a frozen over, Hwy 24. In less that 2 miles it went from basically dry road to a complete sheet of ice. And, while I was able to maintain my vehicle on its path, the person approaching me did not. The minivan broke free in the back and the front end came pushing into my lane. There was no time to stop anything or swerve out of the way. There was time to brace for impact, which is what I did.
A few seconds later I was sitting in a wadded up Chevy Malibu with a broken leg, now when I say a broken leg, that isn't completely accurate. The fact is, my foot had been broken off of my leg. held in place by my boot and jeans, but there was a definite "C" shape just above my ankle that went halfway up my shin. The Tibula and the Fibula, both are necessary to hold your foot on and mine were broken off.
I don't know why this happened, all the minute decisions that went into me being on that piece of road at that time are incalculable. That whole day, when I normally drive straight through, was filled with hems and haws and delays. I stopped to sleep about 5 times, something I usually don't do, but maybe once or twice. I decided, by the looks of the road, that it would be safe to get off the interstate at Hwy 24 and go the easier, less traveled route.
Nothing ever answers the plan God has for us, all the second-guessing in the world never quite produces a satisfactory answer. Here is what I know right now, it will be close to 5 months before I will be able to put weight on my foot. What does that mean? Okay, pain, but what it tells me is that I have not been a very good husband, or son, or brother and now that my family has to pitch in to deal with this lump of flesh that can't go to the store alone, can't even go to the bathroom with questions and concerns for his health "Are you okay?" "Yeah." "Are you sure?" "Yes"
So, now that I have to be so completely reliant on everyone in my life I can only assume that God's plan for me was to humble me a little bit, but also to give me a very vivid reminder that everything in the world that is important to me can reside in a single house, in a single room and as important as the film is, it is nowhere near as important as the people I have neglected these past months.