“He was lost and is found…” Luke 15:32
June 11, 2018 - In the summer of 1980, Mother called her ten children to tell us our dad was missing. His habit for years was to rise at 4:00, drive to his Water Superintendent’s Office in East Center, and return home at 8:00 for breakfast. But this day he didn’t return.
We asked J.M. Warr to fly his plane over the Jericho area and look for his truck. (Daddy made frequent early morning drives down these peaceful roads). Meanwhile, family members frantically searched the myriad of Sand Hill roads, but found no trace of Daddy. But on the second day of searching, we received a radio message from J.M.’s plane: “I’ve spotted Henry’s truck…it’s on a hillside in the Snow Hill community.”
When we finally located the right road, we found him lying about twenty yards from his truck. His mattered eyes were almost swollen shut and fire ants covered the bleeding cuts on his face and arms. As I leaned over him weeping, he weakly raised his hand and whispered, “Son, don’t worry….I’m alright”. He then desperately clutched the cup of water we’d gotten from the nearby spring.
We later learned that Daddy had stuck in deep sand as he returned from a drink from the spring. But as he jacked up the back of the truck, the jack gave way and the truck backed over him as it rolled downhill. He intermittently gained consciousness during his two days in the scorching sun and had almost given up any hope of rescue. To our great joy, a few days in the hospital made him almost like new.
Our dad passed away in 1983. And I know if I were able to ask him today how he is, he could reply to me again:
"Don’t worry, Son… I’m alright.”