The Good Samaritan

  

Maybe it’s my age but it is getting harder and harder to remember that time growing up in America when people left their houses and cars unlocked with no worry about crime.  In the recent 10 years in Southern California the print and TV media news seems daily to highlight some sort of crime against seniors or some sort of new criminal scheme to cheat seniors out of money.  Either we or someone we know has gotten a phony but persuasive email, text or phone call from someone pretending to be an IRS agent about to arrest you if you don’t pay a penalty or a friend in desperate need of immediate cash.  Ads are everywhere selling security alarms, cameras or other protection for home or car break-ins, identity theft, credit card fraud and much more.  

My own recent experience was consistent with these dire reports.  Last October 2022 I parked my car at the Long Beach El Dorado Nature Center for a regular walk with my wife.  When we returned to the car, we found someone had used a device to pry open the front door and steal 5 credit cards and some cash from my wife’s hidden purse.  The thief had used or tried to use all 5 cards within 30 minutes of when we returned to the car.  I filed a police report but got no help from the police.   I took my car to the Acura dealer for door lock repair and the dealer representative said he had 3 other customers in the last 48 hours with the same break-in.  Because of this and other experiences over the last 10 years in Southern California I have developed a general pervasive apprehension about the goodness of humanity.

Then something happened which has shaken that apprehension in a very good way.  Friday morning, May 26, 2023, my friend and I met at my house for a bicycle ride to the Long Beach harbor lighthouse. We first rode to Seal Beach and stopped at Bogart’s coffee shop where we bought a cup of coffee.  Then it was on to the Long Beach Lighthouse near the Aquarium of the Pacific.  I remembered I had forgotten to bring an energy bar so I stopped at a small convenience store next to the Aquarium to buy one.  As I tried to pay with my debit card, the clerk said there was a $.50 charge for the card so I got my bike packet from my biking jersey pocket, put my card back and paid $3.00 cash.  

After a short rest break we rode to a Greek restaurant in Seal Beach for lunch.  As I reached for my bike packet, it wasn’t there.  Thoughts started flying in my mind.  I suspected I had dropped it at the convenience shop and began speculating about what might be happening.  Someone was using my debit card to buy stuff or worse using it to access my checking account.  Or someone just took the $35.00 I was carrying in cash and pitched the packet which could have exposed my personal identity information. No positive thought came to me as I have lost a lot of trust in human decency with recent reported negative  changes in society’s morals.  Immediately I phoned my bank and canceled and deactivated the card and beat myself up mentally for being so careless.  Another example of Murphy’s Law of carelessness and bad consequences.

I could not get the bike packet loss out of my mind so after the ride I drove 11 miles (35 minutes) to the shop near the Aquarium and the kid working there said no one had turned in any lost items on Friday.  I resigned myself to the loss, sucked it up, and thought it was luckily a small loss compared to my wife’s recent loss.  I put it out of my mind, except to admit my careless lapse to my wife.  After our experience with the car break-in, we accepted a repeat experience.

Saturday morning after breakfast we read Our Daily Bread devotion titled Small but Great and quoting Zechariah 4:10. “Who dares despise the day of small things?”  Unexpectedly what happened in the next moment showed the application of this teaching.  After the devotion, my wife said she was going to the mailbox to leave some letters.  I then went upstairs to shave when all of a sudden I heard my wife run upstairs saying guess what I found, guess what I found. She pounded on the door and I thought she had a winning lottery ticket.  When she showed me the packet that I lost, I paused for a few seconds in disbelief and said wow, where did you find it. She told me she had found it in the mailbox, with my debit card, cash, and photocopy of my driver’s license, Medicare, and Medicare Supplemental cards I had in my packet.  No note.  

Someone had found my bike packet at or near the convenience shop, had looked at the photocopy of my address on my driver’s license, and in an act of kindness had driven 11 miles to my house and left the packet intact in my mailbox.  Wow!  No cash was missing and instead of turning it over to someone, the person was a true Good Samaritan, went above and beyond, and brought it to me.  We said Praise the Lord because that was the last thing either of us could imagine someone doing.  How could I ever express my gratitude for such a kind and caring act?  

Today’s story is an attempt to do that and I am sharing it with you today and will be sending it out to my bicycle group, my family, and friends.  I want to share this as a token of my gratitude to that person and very much wish I could thank the person directly.  That person boosted my faith in humanity. 

Small Moments

 

People often say that life is made up of little moments, yet it only takes one to completely alter your course.  Perhaps not with the aspirational moment described in the Whitney Houston song "One Moment in Time," but rather with a realization that something in your life has changed irrevocably.

I distinctly remember starting to watch sports on television in the middle to late 1950s. My interest in professional football was piqued. I'm not sure what first drew me to the Baltimore Colts—maybe it was the horseshoe on the helmet, maybe it was the way Johnny Unitas played the game. Regardless of what it was, the logo and the initial letter of his last name were inextricably linked in my mind to the man who was one of my football heroes.  He set throwing records, guided his club to NFL championships, an d always seemed to pull his team through with amazing last-second scoring drives. I later watched every Green Bay Packers game in 1960 when a sophomore in high school in Madison, Wisconsin. My new football idol was their quarterback Bart Starr, who helped his squad win five NFL championships. To play quarterback like Johnny Unitas and Bart Starr was my childhood ambition.

Before my junior year of high school, my time arrived in the summer of 1961.  To train and fight for the starting high school quarterback position, I moved to Lafayette, Indiana by myself (before my family arrived in September) and lived with my aunt and uncle.  I was inspired by watching quarterbacks Unitas and Starr succeed after putting in a lot of effort and commitment. 

That summer, I completely focused on running, throwing the football, and learning the quarterback position.  My name was listed in the newspaper as the starting quarterback for the first game on a Friday night in August after outworking my rivals. It was a moment of unimaginable glory.  On defense, I also started as a safety.  I made a tackle on the opening play of the second quarter, and the next thing I remember is waking up on a Saturday morning in the intensive care unit of a nearby hospital in Lafayette, Indiana.  After my recovery, I saw the team doctor a week later.  He warned me that another concussion could cause lasting brain damage but said it was my choice whether to continue playing.

Although my parents let me choose whether or not to play football, the worry I noticed on their faces caused my heart to skip a beat.  The glory of being a high school quarterback was finished, and I immediately realized that my dream of playing was also over. I had no dream of a backup.

Looking back, that particular post-injury experience taught me a lot.  Over the following year, I recall learning the term "restriving" and considering my options.  I suddenly had the idea to model my behavior after my older brother Steve, who excelled in both academics and extracurricular activities while attending college.  My attention shifted to my GPA and activities.  I achieved academic success and was chosen as senior class president.  I ultimately decided to enter the legal profession after Steve.

Another event I vividly recall was during a visit to my doctor in Atlanta in 2000. He informed me that my PSA test result from prostate cancer screening was 11- a 50% possibility that I had prostate cancer.  I soon got a biopsy, and the results showed that I had medium-grade prostate cancer with a Gleason score of 7.  I was in the prime of my legal career at age 55 and good health.  My initial response to learning I had prostate cancer could best be summed up as shock and emotional numbness.  Nobody in the family or a close friend had cancer.  My cancer was ruled by the Veterans Administration as caused in Vietnam by Agent Orange.  Therapeutic options included hormone therapy, radiation therapy, implants, and prostate removal.  The worst-case scenarios included death, impotence, or incontinence.

When I found that several of my acquaintances had prostate cancer, I went into crisis mode and contacted them to explore my alternatives.  I decided I wanted to have the surgery to remove my prostate after lengthy discussions with my oncologist surgeon and acquaintances.  I had PSA testing every year to confirm the operation went successfully, but it would take more than five years of yearly PSA tests to guarantee that the disease had not gone elsewhere.

The news that I had cancer affected how I saw both my work and myself.  My level of enjoyment at work decreased.  I had always found order, purpose, and fulfillment in my work.  I truly appreciated the feeling of making a difference, and winning the case, and found pleasure in the social interaction process.  Work started to drain me once I was given the cancer diagnosis—meetings, reports, budgets, and office political issues.  Work turned more and more into just dollar and cents calculations.  The words feeling alive and a zest for life took on importance as my mortality awareness was heightened a lot.   I lost my gut motivation for work and took early retirement in 2002.  I had not planned for life in retirement and have spent my time since then trying to figure it out.

Until 2014, I went through life believing that my hearing was good (or at least adequate), even when input from friends and my environment began to show me otherwise.   I resisted utilizing hearing aids out of self-consciousness and because I thought they would make me appear older and be too expensive, difficult, and uncomfortable.  However, I soon realized that my resistance was making me appear older because I had to keep asking people to repeat themselves.  I was also beginning to isolate myself and retreat from social group activities, and I realized that was not the best course of action for a happy life.

I then discovered that the Veterans Administration provided coverage for hearing aids.  I quickly scheduled a consultation with a VA audiologist at the Santa Ana Clinic.  She informed me that I needed hearing aids because my hearing loss was moderate in my right ear and somewhat worse in my left.  

I recall the moment I received my hearing aids.  My 68 years of age registered.   I started to glance around and notice people wearing hearing aids, which gave me the impression that I wasn't the only one having issues. I also developed my patience and my capacity to control my irritability.  While I could hear those around me talking, I had difficulty hearing in crowded places like restaurants.  I picked up the habit of politely asking individuals to speak slowly, clearly, and twice.

Nobody can predict the future, but through a football injury, cancer, and hearing loss, I have gained a deeper awareness of how precious life is as well as how important it is to embrace it to the fullest.

Eulogy For My Dad Lester Smith

Lester Smith

May 4, 2013

So today we gather to honor the memory and legacy of this man- my father, Les Smith, “Green Pasture” Smith as he was known during his working years- to celebrate his life, and for part of my time today, to focus on the fraternity he loved.  His life touched us all ... in ways we may not fully realize … his kindness, generosity, his wisdom, and his goodness- strong, steadfast, and true ...   

But what makes a person the way they are … what circumstances … what combination of factors … is it fate … is it destiny … is it genes? … Whatever the immediate reason, I like to think it is God’s hand at work …

Today I will share my perspective on a few of those factors that helped shape the person he would become … One of the most important, without question, was the Alpha Gamma Rho fraternity.

Dad in his heart, and in his soul was a farmer, and he exemplified all the best qualities of a farmer … self-reliance … work ethic … frugality … strength … confidence … he was independent … he was patient … he was generous … Always had a kind word … He thought the best of people … He loved his family, his church, his community, and his country, And he loved his fraternity, Alpha Gamma Rho. 

There is something about farming … working the land to earn a living, I believe, that nurtures these qualities … The cycles of work, the cycles of life.

There’s the steady rhythm of the daily cycle … early to rise … feeding animals … tilling the soil … the well-earned rest at day’s end … The farmer learns the importance of reliability, discipline, and perseverance …

And there is the cycle of the seasons … at once predictable, yet still mysterious … The farmer learns the importance of commitment, of steadiness … but also learns that to survive he must be creative … And he learns to love nature, and his community … He understands that ownership means stewardship … that freedom means responsibility.

Then there are the cycles of the weather … Its risks and uncertainty … too much rain … too little rain .. hail … insects and disease … an early, killing frost … this gives farmers respect for a higher power … God almighty … Some call this humility.

But these cycles also are a source of hope and faith … No matter how bitter and cold the Winter … life will be renewed by the reassuring warmth of Spring.

Necessity, conviction, and courage create action … Actions create habits ...And habits create character … Dad was a man of character … I feel Dad’s way of living is well described by a label he acquired from his work- Green Pasture Smith.  The label described Dad’s pure motives and principles- always focused on doing his part to make this a better place to live, whether it was research and education applied to agriculture, or seeking the best from his family and others.  I never wavered in my respect for his solid foundation and highly regarded the standards he lived by.  Dad wanted me to do my very best … whether I was a student, a soldier, or in the work world.  He wasn’t flashy … he was a man of substance.  His word was his bond.  He was dependable and loyal.  What you saw … what you heard … is what you got.  But all our testimonials are but a pittance compared to the years of dedication doing his duty as a husband, father, neighbor, friend, mentor, or as professor in the field of agriculture.  Dad did his job and I now want to speak for a moment about a legacy our family has established to honor his memory.  

Once facing the economic turmoil of the Great Depression, Dad understood the financial demands of a college education.  Though times today are challenging for college students, dad always felt Alpha Gamma Rho could be a man’s ticket to lifelong success. 

More than 75 years ago, Dad had little to no resources for attending college at the University of Maine.  In his sophomore year, he was forced to live in what has been described as a chicken coop near the campus.  One morning he headed into the woods for a hunting trip where he unexpectedly met several AGR members.  He emerged from his trip with many new AGR brothers and a job in the chapter’s kitchen that would pay his way through college.

Dad retired from Purdue University and his lifelong achievements can, in large part, be credited to that hunting trip in 1933  where his lifelong commitment to AGR began.

In honor of Dad’s lifetime commitment to inspiring excellence, our family has created the Lester Smith Scholarship to offer financial assistance to deserving AGR undergraduates at the University of Maine and Purdue University.

The scholarship -current total principal has now grown to approximately $10,000- will award approximately $3,000 to a recipient selected in the fall of 2013 and will be applied toward the 2013-2014 school year.  Perpetuation of the scholarship beyond three years will be determined at a later date.  The National AGR Educational Foundation in Kansas City will distribute the applications and determine a selection committee.  

Dad was initiated into the Alpha Gamma Rho fraternity on January 14, 1935.  If I can condense from AGR’s website, the purpose of AGR is to make better and broader men in the field of agriculture focusing on improving their mental, social, moral, and physical development through fellowship in a national fraternity.  He received his bachelor's degree in 1937 and his master’s degree in 1938 at the University of Maine.  He began his career as a lecturer in agronomy for the University of Vermont in 1938.  With the help of a Hoods Dairy Scholarship, he began working on his Ph.D. at the University of Wisconsin.  In 1954, he was hired by Purdue and retired in 1979. 

The scholarship and Dad’s legacy are to encourage men to turn to AGR for the connection to a broader world of agriculture and a lifetime of professional success.  But what will recipients of his scholarship do with this legacy?  Will they make a difference in the lives they touch?  Will they make a difference in our society and our great country?  That’s what dad really lived for … to cause us to make a difference.

We love you and miss you, Dad.  We know you are with the Lord. 

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