
Play Ball - Live Life!
Most of us who read this small blog are facing challenging times or know someone personally that is. It’s all around us. In many ways there are all kinds of death scenes everyday. --Hardship everywhere.
Yet in death and dying experiences as well as in living experiences it does not have to be the end of the story. It can be a new beginning.
I just read a story about a guy named Fred Everhard and how he changed a death experience of a baseball field into a renewing of hearts and lives in the midst of the worse economic times for a community.
It’s a small town of just 5000. Yet it can be a motivation for us all. Yes all of us.. Those who are grieving the death of a loved one to those who are struggling big time with financial debt and problems.
For those that are grieving, the pain of loss and loneliness is tremendous after that special person has died. We can feel emotionally, spiritually and socially bankrupted – perhaps even spiritually depleted. That is understandable. In grief there is a process of tasks and experiences that one must go through in the life long grief recovering process. In the beginning it feels like it will never end and there is no hope.
There is HOPE, there is a bright future if you really want one. Your loved ones, yes even those who have died, love you so much that they would also want you to have hope also.
For those who are experiencing the various losses due to economic struggle don’t give up hope. The only time you are REALLY bankrupt is when you give up hope and love.
So I’m enclosing this remarkable story as a hope and prayer for all of us. May we apply the spirit and determination to work for our dreams. These dreams and goals may come face to face with difficulties at first and few if anyone there to support the dreams. No matter – hold on to them. Keep them going at all cost.
YOU CAN DO IT! You are doing it by having the dream in the first place. It will grow and in its perfect time will flourish. Trust and it will come to reality at the most perfect of moments – the moment it is meant to be in and shared.
It is not until the umpire yells “Play Ball” that the game beings. It is when we in all our determination we cry out “Live Life!” that we are in the game and winning the greatest home run of all -- Fullness of Life and the achievement of our dreams and goals.
Dr. Terrie Modesto
Thanatologist
http://www.drterriemodesto.com/
http://www.tearcenter.com/
Not Just Another Town
Fred Everhart read the mail and felt sick. What would the kids do? Fred, head of the recreation commission, experienced what many American towns and committees felt - loss of funds.
Greenfield, Ohio, population 5000, just another town reliant on the auto industry. Five hundred jobs (70% of the town's industrial employment) would be gone by October 2009. In Willington, the nearest town, DHL Express announced it was pulling out, leaving another 8,000 employees without work. Due to the economic downturn, Greenfield lost fifty percent of the money budgeted to run the city.
The economy didn't factor in people like Fred Everhart. In January, 2009, Fred called a meeting. Twenty-five to thirty angry parents showed up. The anger and frustration prevented productivity. The parents understood their own hardship, but how could a city face the same?
Fred, not to be beaten, called a second meeting. Nine people attended - The Gang of Nine. Together, they convinced the town to give them $5,000.00 of the $20,000.00 budgeted for little league baseball.
Greenfield had only one ballpark, which it could no longer afford to maintain. The "Gang of Nine" convinced the city to give the park to them. Fred posted an advertisement in the local paper a few weeks before opening day - Memorial Day - volunteers needed.
On that Saturday morning, Fred arrived at 9 A.M. Only two others waited. They looked out over the field. A small breeze picked up a piece of paper and sent it tumbling over the barren field. The grass was uncut. Holes surrounded the bases, dug into the dirt by last season's players. Water rimmed home plate.
Fred looked at his two companions, "Looks like it's just us." He surveyed the field. "Where's the flag?" He frowned, "For that matter, where's the flag pole?"
"It blew down five years ago." One of his companions said. "They couldn't afford to replace it."
"No matter," Fred said, "Let's get to work."
They pulled their mowers, shovels, and rakes from their trucks and began to work. At 9:30 A.M. another truck pulled into the parking lot. Behind it, trailing dust, were more cars and trucks. They soon had fifty to sixty men, women and children working. The small army mowed the grass, painted dugouts, patched the fields and mended fences.
A local newspaper picked up their efforts and printed a story. The "Gang of Nine's" efforts symbolized the strength of community and was picked up by national media. Fred was overwhelmed with emails, letters, and donations from around the country. They came from Hawaii to Vermont. One lady called from Illinois. She'd lived through the depression and knew what it was like to go without. She didn't want the kids to do the same. A few days later, Fred received a check for $500.00 from her.
Baseballs arrived. Twenty-four dozen came in one delivery from New Orleans. Donations of equipment arrived from individuals and little leagues in Pennsylvania and Illinois.
The league was featured on "Good Morning America". They received more equipment from the major baseball leagues, and the Cincinnati Reds invited the entire Greenfield league to see a game at "Great American Ballpark" in Cincinnati.
Fred wasn't done. He spoke to members of the "Concerned Veterans of Greenfield". Their bylaws prohibited them donating money, but they donated a flagpole and a flag.
Fred spoke to a stone mason, Jay Hardy, owner of Hardy Memorials. Fred wanted to do something in return to the veterans. Jay agreed to donate his work to those who fought then and now. Fred expected a small plaque, but one morning, Jay pulled into the parking lot with a section of marble three feet, by two feet, by two inches. The flagpole and monument where mounted in cement.
The league made concessions: only one new baseball per game; the scoreboard and lights remained dark; and restrooms were locked, replaced with portable toilets.
Four hundred and fifty children, ages five through sixteen, signed up to complete forty-seven teams. On opening day, Fred and his gang surveyed the field once again. Fred remembers one thing - sounds. He listened to the laughter of children, the crack of bats against balls, and above it all, the snapping of the flag blowing in the wind.
A call for silence - the national anthem played and the plaque was dedicated to the veterans.
"Play ball!" The umpire yelled.
The season was on.
On July 3, 2009, the last game was played. The last ball was struck. The last game of the season came to an end. The players, parents, coaches, and umpires left the field. The last breath of wind rolled a hotdog wrapper over the infield. The sun dropped below the horizon. The light of day faded. The stars and stripes gave a final wave in the dying wind. It hung limp against the pole - vigilant - waiting for another season. One could imagine the sound of a bugler playing, signaling the end of the day, the end of a season.
The economy caused problems around the globe, but in Greenfield, it was beaten - Greenfield, not just another town.
Michael T. Smith
Michael Smith has authored hundreds of great stories. To read more of his stories, go to: http://ourecho.com/biography-353-Michael-Timothy-Smith.shtml#stories To sign up for his stories go to: http://visitor.constantcontact.com/d.jsp?m=1101828445578&p=oi
I originally read this story at Insight Of Today by Bob Proctor
insightoftheday.com