Posts Tagged ‘volunteer

28
Mar
25

ENOUGH

Saddle up boys and girls. Today is a strong message that has been 46 years in the making. Your attention span is short so I won’t waste time playing with your mind while I finally get the to point. I recently went to Washington DC and absolutely loved most of it. My hotel was insanely expensive and the staff was 50% stupid, but that makes sense because half the government is made up of morons. We can argue which half another day because your opinion like mine means nothing. This message today is for 100% of the people so I hope you find some pride in it and possibly share it with others. Yeah I’m asking for you to spread these words I’m writing today. Please.

I called my Dad and told him I was in DC. He immediately asked if I was going to visit the Vietnam memorial or wall as some call it. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I hadn’t thought of it before he asked, but I’m sure I would have. My visit there was very last minute and my first goal was to see the White House. When I got off the phone I wondered how I could be so dumb to not have that as my first stop, but I’m far from perfect as all of you already know. I decided then to do something special although I wasn’t sure what that would look like.

My Dad aka My Hero graduated high school in 1967 and I doubt any of his teachers would have called him gifted in academics. Ironically the movie the Graduate came out in 1967 FYI. College wasn’t in his immediate future, but I can attest that the man is incredibly smart when it comes to things that matter. You want it fixed, he can do it. You want it shot, he will hit it with the first bullet. You want a story told with pizazz, he is your guy. You want someone with heart to listen to your problems, there isn’t a human alive with more caring in his words. With college out of the question and a questionable night driving a fast car he was volunteered to the ARMY, 1st Air Cavalry. This country was at war in a far off place and he said “I’ll Go!”

What happened over there was awful. I’ve read many books to try and understand what he went through, but none of them are enough. I call it the great/horrid theory. Try describing a great sunset to someone that wasn’t there even with pictures. You always end up saying “you had to see it, the pictures don’t do it justice.” Now think about someone trying to describe absolute horror. Even with pictures and all the adjectives in the English language we can’t begin to understand the disgustingly awful things these 18 year old boys had to endure. The books I have read made me want to throw up and that is just someone relaying the experience. You can’t let experiences like those go no matter how much substance you take. Some went to drugs, some went to alcohol, some just took their lives, and all of them lucky enough to come home were forever changed.

I decided to make a sign and hold it up at the wall as a tribute to the sacrifice my Father and others made in that far off country that now manufactures corporations products dirt cheap. We can talk about that second part another day. 58,220 Americans died in that awful war. Many of you, like me read that number and breezed right by it, but when you see that wall with the tiny letters engraved into it and how freaking big it is that number hits different. Very different. To me I saw 58,220 families that never were. FknBucky’s that never got to get born because they were lost in an argument. It makes me cry when I think about it. My father was one of the lucky ones that survived and was able to over come all of the horrible he witnessed to start a family. That doesn’t mean he is perfect. In fact he will be the first to admit he made mistakes along the way, but he is still here which is a testament to his incredible strength and I love him for it.

I drove to Staples and got a large poster board, a metal sign stand, and some markers to take back to my hotel. I then made my sign free hand and accidentally drew the N backwards as you can see in the picture. I should have bought a spare board, but sometimes when things are done on a whim and from the heart they are imperfect. I then headed out from my hotel for the 1 mile journey to the Vietnam memorial with my stand, poster, and service dog. I didn’t really take into account how difficult that was going to be, but I had already committed. I know this is a long blog today, but I assure you the ending is worth it so stay with me.

I rolled up and found a respectful place to set up. I started to pull things out, put my stand together, and purposely kept the words hidden to not spoil the surprise. It was about 1 PM, the sky was blue, the air was about 60 degrees, and the memorial was quite busy with spring break groups walking by constantly. I saw some kids place letters at the wall like the one I photographed above. I finished setting up, Annie sat next to me, and we quietly watched people walk by. I was sweating and nervous thinking “what the F am I doing??” These people are going to laugh at me, they won’t get it, some might get mad, I should just take a photo and leave. I didn’t leave. I stayed and smiled at people as they read my sign.

It read: These Men Died, My Father Survived, I hope I’m, ENOUGH

It didn’t take long for people to smile back. A few men wearing Veteran hats gave me a thumbs up. Soon a Vietnam Veteran came by to thank me for what I was doing. He said he thought it was going to be a pro Hamas sign, but showed a large toothless smile when he read what I had written. A good number of people stopped to ask me about my Dad and eventually told me to thank him for his sacrifice, some asked me why I made the sign, and some tried to put money in Annie’s water bowl. Haha. I didn’t accept any money, but was appreciative anyone would want to give and asked them to buy a homeless person a meal instead. There are a lot of homeless people in DC so they didn’t have to go far.

Many people looked at me and mouthed the words “You are Enough”. I want to stress that I am blessed to be here. I’m blessed to be my father’s child. My life, like his, has been full of hardships, but it has also been a beautiful journey of happy wonderful times. My father taught me to focus on the good in life, he taught me to face my problems head on, over come them, and then let go of the bad. He taught me to find the humor in everything. Those words are much easier to say than do, but we never stop trying. Those people were right. I am enough, but more importantly so is my Father.

This photo is my Dad’s 70th birthday. This man has made a large impact on many lives.

This blog, like my day in DC, sitting in the sun at the Vietnam Memorial is a tribute and dedicated to Victor McKinley. My hero. He is enough. He always has been.

Thank you Dad for being ENOUGH.

FknBucky

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My friend Ryno’s Uncle: ROY L GRIFFIN JR – It was my honor to find his name and take this photograph. Please REMEMBER his name and if you want please share this blog as a small tribute to the 58,220 men and women that gave their lives for our freedom.

05
Mar
25

DJ deserves better

Hump day. One of my favorites. I won’t waste a lot of your time today with witty roundabout sentences to get to my point. I spent 7 years volunteering at a childrens hospital in San Diego, opening a playroom from 6-8pm every Tuesday night. It was burdensome at times as anyone that makes any kind weekly commitment can relate to. I grew to love those Tuesdays for more reasons than I can ever put in a daily blog, but that isn’t exactly what I want to speak about today.

Over that 7 years I witnessed children battle horrid diseases for months and sometimes years. They were weak, pale, and moved very slowly while attached to machines that would beep all the time. They wore hospital gowns and slippers as they shuffled from one table to another trying to distract themselves from the crap reality they were stuck with. Those images and moments changed my life and EVERYONE should take the time to volunteer at some point in their lives to fully understand what I’m writing about.

Last night as President Trump acknowledged an extremely brave young man who has had 14 brain surgeries in his young life. At the age 8 years old DJ Daniel was diagnosed with brain cancer and I wouldn’t wish this battle on anyone in the world, and certainly not a child. DJ doesn’t vote. He isn’t a republican. He didn’t ask to have this fight. In fact he isn’t supposed to be alive. He was told he would die in 5 months, but somehow by the grace of God or Big Bang Theory this young man has defied the odds and was able to attend the joint address by President Trump last night.

I’m disgusted that anyone refused to stand, refused to applaud this incredible American, and acknowledge the strength he has shown to go thru everything he faced over the last 6 years. I’ve gone into surgery, faced death, and been in the hospital for months and I’ll tell you it sucks. It is scary. The world carries on while you’re stuck in a bed. You can hate President Trump all you want, but to not give this young man the respect he is due is indefensible. Anyone that tries to defend it can go love themselves as the Beibs would say.

President Trump was just parading him out there for propaganda Bucky! Who cares?? Does that mean his story is less incredible?? Would anyone have heard about it if he wasn’t mentioned last night?? I try to find positive things to write about and this is a positive story, but unfortunately 1/2 the room is so blinded by HATE they couldn’t see it. If this country can’t stand up together and say “We love you” to DJ then we have no hope to ever come together.

DJ doesn’t set foreign policy, he doesn’t set immigration policy, he doesn’t work for DOGE, he doesn’t vote, and he didn’t deserve to have 50% of the room sit stoically while the rest of the country cheered for him. I’m glad he had this moment. I’m so grateful President Trump took the time to honor this incredibly brave young American. If you’re not, I believe it is time to look in the mirror and ask yourself where things went wrong.

God Bless you DJ. Keep fighting as millions of Americans are behind you, praying for you, and hoping that dream of becoming a law enforcement officer comes true for you.

FknBucky

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20
Mar
15

Dropping the Cross

What a cross looks like to some people.

What a cross looks like to some people.

I rolled into the children’s hospital after an exhausting day of work. It was Tuesday night again. After closing real estate deals all day, I was prepared to help others find a brief moment of freedom from their troubles. I started volunteering to open a playroom once a week after seeing a need while visiting a friend’s child that became very ill.

Spending time with those kids became my escape for the week. One I always looked forward to without fail. I am a T-4 paraplegic (paralyzed from the chest down) and love spending time with young people. These kids just happen to have had life altering illnesses or accidents. Despite the adult sized problems they faced, these children just needed someone to pay attention to them and make them laugh.

I enabled people in my professional and personal life to see past the wheelchair by showing them the person I am instead of letting them concentrate on the hardware I use. This allowed me to quickly see past any problems those kids had. Opening the large security door I saw a girl standing near the back of the room working on something. After volunteering for two years, this was the first time a patient was in the playroom when I arrived, this told me instantly her situation was special.

The machines are what stood out to most people at first glance. A tall white pole with hooks at the top and four small black wheels on the bottom for balance. Two different IV bags hanging from the top with tubes running into the tiny frail arm that had yet to experience so much in life. The beeping from the blue box shaped monitor that kept track of her vitals like heart rate, blood pressure, and whatever else the nurses needed to know at a moments notice. It was a modern day cross this child had to drag around as a constant reminder that she was not well.

The girl wore Spongebob Square Pants pajama bottoms with a hospital gown covering her top. From the side I could see where the gown was tied in the back exposing bits of skin to the chilly air of the hospital. The air conditioner seemed to never take a break in this Southern California environment. A pink bandana on her head seemed to be decorated with Hello Kitty, but I wasn’t positive and truthfully didn’t care. To know for sure meant I would have had to stare and that wasn’t something I was willing to do. Tied on like a Harley Davidson biker would have worn it, this one covered her balding head that had lost most its hair from months of painful treatments. Plain slippers covered her feet that stood next to the black wheels of that damn IV pole that was never more than inches away.

I wasted no time and went straight up to her. Looking at the table before her, I saw a large piece of red construction paper, about three feet by three feet with what looked to be random pictures strewn about it. I said “How’s your day gorgeous?” A shy girl, beaten down by life and sickness, about twelve years old, struggled to get out the word okay while never taking her dark sad eyes off that table and those pictures. The child life specialist next to her gave me an awkward smile, but I would not be shut out. I came to this children’s hospital every week to make sure these kids could check out for a couple hours, laugh at the crazy guy in a wheelchair, and even if for a brief moment, truly forget the life and death struggle they faced on a daily basis.

I inquired. “Who are the pictures of??
“My brother and me” she replied in a barely audible voice.
“Those are great pictures. Are you at Disneyland??”
“Yes”
“Whom are you making this for??”
“My parents”

I knew I had to work harder to infect her with what I was carrying. I am contagious and giving up was not an option. I rolled closer to her, smiling the whole time, knowing that the positivity and happiness overflowing out of me was exactly what she needed.

“I’m a good looking guy, do you think I could get a couple pictures of me in your collage?” I asked.
She looked up for the first time and looked into my eyes. She saw me looking at her. Not at the machines, her sickness, or her situation, but simply looking at her and cracked a small smile while saying “Maybe.”

She could sense I was being genuine, slowly started to open up, and we began a real conversation about anything other than why she was in the hospital. I asked about this picture and that one pointing to them and waiting to hear the story behind it. Within minutes those sad eyes opened up, showing signs of life and happiness, and soon, filled with the positivity I had shared with her.
“What was going on in this picture?” I would ask.
“We had just rode that rollercoaster and my brother was dizzy so I was laughing at him. He was such a wimp when it came to the fast rides.” She told me.

She would pause from time to time, reliving the moment in her mind, before continuing to tell each story. The ice cream break when she got chocolate and her brother got vanilla, the sandwiches for lunch in the parking lot, and the constant begging for her brother to go just one more time on the rides that he didn’t like so much, but ended up going on anyway to please a younger sister.

The wall she put up to guard herself crumbled. She felt like a normal kid again, forgot about the situation she was in, and let go of the cross she was holding. The machines melted away, the lack of hair no longer mattered, and standing in front of me was a girl. A beautiful girl with sparkling eyes, memories to share, and the courage to ask the obvious question.

“What makes you think you are so good looking??” She asked.
“I um… well I…” For a quick-witted guy I had no words. She got me good there and we both busted out in laughter.

The whole hospital world was gone in an instant while we played with those pictures and told funny stories. It only lasted for about fifteen minutes, but it is a memory that will never leave me.

As the young lady left to have dinner the child life specialist told me it was the first time she had seen her have a genuine smile and truly laugh in months. The brother in the photos had passed away four months earlier of the same disease she has. My heart broke in two. I’m glad I didn’t know sooner. Everyone that looked at this broken hurting body saw this horrible situation instead of a beautiful child that just needed to laugh. It is one of the happiest memories I have spending with another human being.

16
Feb
15

Tragedy

Support them as you never know when you'll need them!!!  Thank you to all my friends and family that volunteer!!

Support them as you never know when you’ll need them!!! Thank you to all my friends and family that volunteer!!

I have this story that I want to get out, but not really sure how to start so I’ll just do as I always do. Write the first things that come to mind until I can get into it. Life is funny in how it all works out. One day I’m 15, I know everything, and then I wake up at 36 and realize I still don’t know shit. How does this happen?? I have no idea, but somehow all the “old” people in my life that tried to explain things to me when I was younger aren’t as stupid as I once thought.

You see the other night my younger brother and I were watching TV when his wife ran into the room and said “I think I just heard an accident.” We all just kind of looked at each other for a moment, but then sure enough his radio went off. He and his wife are on the volunteer fire department in Lower Alabama. She is a trauma nurse in Mobile and he works for a funeral home. Good person to know if you have anger issues.

The radio said a car was in the ditch and my brother left. The accident was only about a quarter mile from us on the highway that runs in front of his house. This is where things get serious and why I had trouble figuring out how to write this out. You see there were four kids in the car that wrecked and they were just out having fun like all of us did many many times before.

There was 2 girls and 2 guys in the car with a boy about 24 years old driving. They cruised by my brothers house and might have been going a bit faster than the posted speed limit, but who isn’t guilty of that. A dog was in the middle of the road and the driver of the car decided to swerve and miss the dog at the last second. This is something that you should never do. Hit the dog. Any of you that know me know I love my dog like a child, but if she was standing in the road and you can’t stop in time, you have to hit the dog. Swerving leads to much worse consequences. In this true story though the driver swerved and lost control. He went left and then hard right ending up in a big grassy ditch.

The grass was wet and no real traction to be had there. This isn’t a movie or a video game. It is real life and shit happens very fast without a warning. That is why you need to pound certain things into your kids heads while you have the chance and pray that they listen. I never listened and I think back wondering how in the hell did I survive?? I never wore my seatbelt and always said “I don’t want live if I’m all messed up.” How ironic is that?? Well this car could not control where it was going and hit a very large cement telephone pole. These poles do not give and the car stopped immediately.

The driver hurt his arm a bit, but was able to get out of the car. My brother showed up a few moments after it happened and described it to me later. The girl that was in the front passenger seat was not wearing her seatbelt. She was ejected from the car through the windshield. He checked her pulse immediately and could not detect one. This is when he got on the radio and said they may need a flight for life helicopter and there might possible fatalities so others coming to the scene would know what to expect. In other words things are very bad. Everyone hurry up. My sister in-law handed me their new baby and raced out of the house knowing she was needed on scene. The boy in the back seat had severe head trauma and was not able to comprehend what was going on.

The girl in the back seat was injured, but not life threatening. I had a very sick feeling while I was holding the baby and waiting for news on what was going on at the accident. The girl who had been thrown from the car started to gasp for breath a few moments after not having a pulse and my brother was there to help her until paramedics arrived. Being in that situation is awful enough, but to be there alone would be much worse. Please remember to support your local volunteers as they are regular people that can instantly be put into very hard positions. The girl was 17, smart, well liked in school and the community, and only guilty of not wearing a seatbelt. She did not live. Her last name was McKinley although no relation to my brother or I.

The boy in the back seat was her boyfriend for the last 2 years and was 16. He was not wearing a seatbelt and after some time passed with the volunteer firemen using the Jaws of life to get him out, he was on his way to the hospital. He and his girlfriend spent 2 hours fighting for their lives. Both of them passed away. There was no alcohol in the car or in anyones system. They were simply out riding around and swerved to miss that dog which cost them their lives. It bothered me greatly as I pass by that pole everyday and if they had been 5 feet to either side they would have missed it, hit some small trees/shrubs, and hopefully have lived to tell about it later.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to write about this, but I felt like I had to. First to get it out of my head as it is the only way I know how, also to help you start the conversation about wearing seat belts, and teach those you love to not swerve their cars. Real life has real consequences and I felt truly sick thinking about those poor parents that were going to be woken up at 2 AM to be told the one thing every parent fears the most. Lives were ruined in a split second. It is truly a tragedy. The boy who was driving the car is in real bad sorts. He can’t get over the fact he was the one driving and if he doesn’t it will certainly kill him as well.

http://www.al.com/news/mobile/index.ssf/2015/01/teen_couple_killed_in_fatal_ca.html

I can’t pretend to know what its like to be in his shoes, but I pray he finds a way to deal with the demons. It was simply an accident and sometimes the only reason is there is no reason. Have the conversation with your loved ones and make sure they understand that seat belts matter, swerving is not your first option, and speed limits are there for the things you don’t see. If you are driving a car make sure everyone buckles up as it is you that will “feel” responsible regardless. Driving fast seems easy when the roads are clear, but when the unknown happens YOU CAN’T STOP. And most importantly tell those around you that you love them every chance you get. It makes you and them feel better unless you’re on a first date. That can make dessert awkward.

Fknbucky




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