November, 2008

Thank you….
You know, it’s easy to start to focus on life’s little problems and hurdles in our way as we travel our individual life journeys. I try not to do that but I still do. So while everyone is firing off “happy thanksgivings” to everyone, I want to thank God for this great nation. It’ll never be perfect but we’ve got the freedom to try and make it so and as long as we have that, I’m happy.
 Thank you Osama bin Laden. Thanks for showing us true malice and cowardice still exists in this world – and that it doesn’t work. Anybody who needs to be a bully by trying to get their way through fear and terror will never get their way. Ever. Anybody who kills innocent men, women and children because they’re afraid to take on the Cowboys, Cowgirls, Farmers, Police, Firefighters, Salvation Army workers, volunteers, friends, family and neighbors who all take care of each other – someone too afraid to directly attack, oh say, a military target rather than innocent civilians who’ve done nothing to you – deserves to be thanked. And probably spanked – I’m guessing you didn’t get enough discipline as a child or you weren’t breast fed or zillions of other excuses the weak use to explain their stupidity. Your cowardly slap in the face achieved the exact opposite of your goals but did something actually somewhat noble – you reminded us of who we are: One nation, under God. In one day you reminded us that we’re not 50 individual States – we are one big neighborhood with lots of food variety brought about by our different backgrounds. And on September 11, 2001, every American became an honorary New Yorker, or perhaps every New Yorker and every citizen became stronger Americans. Instead of dividing us, you reminded us not to take for granted who and what we are. So thank you Osama. (Oh yeah, hope you’re enjoying cave living and remember, you can run, but you’ll only die tired…)
 Thank you President Bush. Some love you, some don’t but you’ve dedicated your life to protecting us all. Whether we agree with, or disagree with, your policies and beliefs at least you’ve had the strength to stand by your convictions and none doubt where you stand. I respect those with a backbone and while I can’t say I always agree with you, I do respect you. Oh…and thanks for restoring some decorum and prestige to the Oval Office…
 Thanks mom and dad for making me possible. Thanks mom for all those years it was you and me against the world, raising a little brother and sister – God bless the single parents who somehow find the strength to face another day and work hard to make their kids lives better than their own life is.
 Thanks to the red, white and blue. For 10 years I served under those stars and stripes, sometimes sleeping under the wings of our F-16, waiting for that klaxon to sound and hoping that it didn’t. But if it did…we stood ready. Thanks to those who went before me, and thanks to those who followed. I know what it’s like to be cold, tired, wet, exhausted – and feel that pride and camaraderie that only comes from the closeness of working insane hours and being asked to do too much in too little time. And doing it. God bless our military and thank you so much for the sacrifices you’re making on our behalf.
 Thank you United States of America. Thanks for the opportunities. Thanks for the freedom. Thanks for standing several centuries through good and bad. Thanks for making the room for my views. Thanks for the room for those views I don’t share.
 And most importantly, thank you God in heaven above for Your Son, for Your love, for forgiveness of the stupid things certain cowboys do that probably frustrate You, and for all of the above. God bless America…and America, bless God…
Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

November 22, 2008: It’s been slow progress but has at least given me a distraction – Jordan’s tribute site is up:
JordanTucker.com

Thank you to all who sent cards, tributes, emails and came to pay their respects at Jordan’s visitation and funeral. I have no idea how many were at the church Thursday night for his funeral. It was the most the church had ever held according to long-time members and the pastor. It required traffic control from the police and took several hours for folks to be able to exit. Overflow folks had to stand in the lobby, foyer, and sit in rooms that had speakers to hear the service. It was harder than I thought it would be, at least the first half of the service. I thought the hardest part would be Wednesday night at 4pm. My ex-wife had requested that we each have 15 minutes alone with Jordan prior to the start of the family visitation time period. And so at 4pm, November 19, 2008, I had 15 minutes to tell Jordan everything we’re all too busy to tell our loved ones, or too proud. He lay in the clothes he wore to school, his favorite Duke sweatshirt, his red hat. It was a very long walk from door to where he lay. Though I knew better, I did as I had always done when standing in the doorway as my kids slept – I listened for his deep, peaceful breathing. I have always found my own peace in listening to theirs. There was no sound. His peace was now found far from where I stood.
I only needed one minute for the really important part. I’ve always believed in telling my kids I loved them, even now when they’re at the age that they’re too cool to tell me that back. The rest of our talk…the rest I hope you never have to experience. 14 minutes is both an eternity and blink of an eye in the same time frame. Just like your children’s lives are.

Over 600 people came to see Jordan Wednesday night. They tell me the line went on for hours, out the visitation area, down the hall, out the door, down the block. I don’t remember. We had areas set up of his life – pictures. His many jerseys. His “secret” journals – he was a ‘lister’ – someone who listed everything – his goals in life, all the fish he’s caught, game plays. In 2016 he was going to be his school’s soccer coach. The hypothetical games they played that year were there. They did very well for a first time high school soccer coach named Jordan Tucker. In a sitting area there was a 20 minute video of Jordan’s life set to music. I mostly stayed there. People said things to me. People hugged me. People shook my hand. People were sorry. People blended into tears. If you talked to me thank you. I don’t remember.

My brother took me out to the truck for a cigar. Jordan’s candlelight vigil was scheduled at 8pm. They arrived in droves, parents dropping off, carloads of teens, a non-stop flow. They gathered early, sitting on the floor. Waiting. At 8pm we were led into the chamber – 300 mostly teens, from 6 separate high schools sat in silence. We all sat on the floor. Memories were shared. The kids made an aisle down the middle. Family walked down the aisle, lighting the candles in silence. Out into the foyer and lobby areas where overflow people sat or stood. We sat in silence in the candle glow, some looking down, some looking at Jord in his casket. It was announced we could blow out our candles whenever we felt. Nobody felt like moving. I don’t know how long passed. He came in again and announced this was the end of the service but we could stay as long as we’d like. They turned the lights up, they opened the doors. And still we all sat. At some point family blew out their candles. At some point I was leaning over Jordan and telling him “Goodnight pal, I love you Jord.” I looked at the room as I was led out. Around half of the kids were still there, still in place in most cases. Most still had their candles lit. All that I saw were crying, men, women, boys, girls. That’s all that I saw.

Thus, I thought that would be the hardest part. I was wrong. The hardest part came Thursday night. The hardest part is when they lead you back into the church to say “goodbye.” Up until that point you feel that you have cried most of your tears. You have felt the most blinding searing pain you could have already felt in the days prior and thus you have no more to experience. And you are very, very wrong. It can’t be described, at least not by me. I would not wish it upon my worst enemy. You say goodbye, goodnight, I love you to your little boy for the last time on this earth. The next time you see him, the box is closed. A preacher talks, others talk. You’re standing in the cold after having watched the 8 pallbearers – 8 closest friends and family, and the 60 honorary pallbearers who asked to stand with him load him into a black hearse. You stand until someone is saying you should go in because of the cold. There are crowds everywhere. People trying to leave. People trying to stay. People are saying things to you. People are trying not to look at you. You’re arranging what to do with all the flowers after. You’re finally in your vehicle and away from people. Two days have passed and I’m typing. This is one of the points where the haze is a little lower than my vision. I’m grateful to God for The Haze. The shroud of shock that protects us when something incomprehensive or so unfair as to not be fathomable has struck. Without it, we would not survive the pain. While Jordan’s loss could test the faith of people in a benevolent God, the protective haze reaffirms it. It is protective arms or wings wrapped around your mind and spirit.

Again, thank you to those who came to be with us. Thank you all for your prayers. Kathi has tried to read me cards through The Haze. It’s too early for me to want to hear. Most of you have said it as it is: “There are no words…” You’re right. There aren’t. There are memories, there is pain, there is anger, there is hurt…at 4pm Wednesday there was excruciatingly loud silence… And thank God there is haze.

Jordan’s last voicemail home, letting Barb know where he was going after school, 11/14/2008

Just a quick FYI – the summary of Magic’s road trip to Villa Marina in Superior, WI is posted on both the forum (www.windchillforum.org) as well as the Legacy’s blog (http://www.thewindchilllegacy.org/blog/). The update was done by Paula Moore and I thought she did a better job than I’d have done so please read up on Magic’s trip. All I can say is Magic really lived up to her name and left a nursing home with a bunch of smiles. Atta girl Magic!

November 14th, 9:20am: This should be a fun day. Magic hits the road again where she’ll be visiting a senior citizens housing and rehab facility in Superior, WI. Paula Moore, our educational coordinator, developed an amazing survey for determining area facilities interest and needs in the programs The WindChill Legacy, Ltd. now offers – and the response has been overwhelming excitement. If she left a stone unturned in determining needs at a facility, I don’t know what it is at this point. And while doing that, she developed educational programs for the schools that are amazing – educational, interactive and riveting! At some point I think the programs themselves will be part of the new education section of the Legacy website we’ve been working on but we’ll do that after they’ve been tried and tested – we start the school programs hopefully in December. The fun part of that program will be the inclusion of the equestrian club Polly Niemi started at Superior Senior High School and which quickly filled with eager students wanting to participate. Several of those students now come out and work with Raindance horses and their excitement is fun to see. They’ll be a part of educating the younger generation in an experimental part of the process – students teaching students. Anyway, Paula and I will be taking mini Magic to Villa Marina Health & Rehab in Superior and we’ll let you know how it goes.

I wonder why I still date and timestamp these things? Guess the habit of doing that with the Windchill updates just carried over. Well it was Raindance to the rescue again last night. At midnight or so a car came racing up our driveway honking. I went out in pajamas so now the neighbors know I wear a sweatshirt and plaid jammie bottoms at night in case they were wondering. What can I say, they’re warm!  The few times we’ve had a horse get out we’ve been pretty lucky – usually once they’re out they realize they really really liked it where they were and spend their time trying to figure out how to get back in – which is never the same route as they took getting out which means fence repairs in the cold usually. Once back inside they spend their time telling the others about their ordeal and trying to get a spot on Oprah to tell their life changing tale to. 40 minutes later they’ve forgotten and are eyeing the greener grass on the other side of the fence again.   Anyway, she said there was a mini loose on the highway and they thought it might be ours…seems when you have a lot of horses everybody thinks every stray is yours…  We quickly checked the barn to see if our new mini had miraculously picked the stall door she can’t reach – Magic’s never had any inclination to try and escape – she has it pretty honkin’ good in her room and her only complaint seems to be that she’s not allowed in the alfalfa storage when we let her wander the barn during chores. Anyway, she was safe and sound reading a good book. We followed the lady to the spot her husband was holding the little horse. We hadn’t seen the cute little guy before. I ran back to the farm and hooked up the trailer. Midnight on a Saturday night isn’t a good time to be walking down an ink black darkened highway walking a miniature horse. He loaded up fine and Kat had checked as I ran back and discovered he was a stallion so when he arrived at Raindance he got to strut his stuff past the ladies in the barn. I think it made him feel almost 3 feet tall!

Turned out the little guy was from a neighbors down the road. He had gotten him for his kids and came by this morning after seeing our “Mini found” sign at the end of the driveway. For awhile there it was looking like we were going to be in the Miniature horse business. In retrospect maybe that’d be easier since we have three extra bedrooms and they’re so much less work – we could have just given them each a room though they’d probably argue over who gets which room. He’s now safely back home. The folks that stopped, as well as another vehicle that stopped to see what was going on said it was good that we were back out rescuing another one. At least this time it was much warmer out and ended happily – particularly for the little girl that came with who was happy to be reunited with her new horse!