EDITORIAL

6A      Dec. 31,2009        The County Paper, Est. 1923  levyjournalonline.com  The Levy County Journal


Wh en, nm



tragedy



strikes


Bdy Rick Burnham
Editor


T       his was supposed to be about
        my New Year's Resolutions,
        about Skittles and hash
        browns and fried foods
galore. Can't really find any humor in
any of it at this point though. Kind of
difficult to laugh and smile.
   Sunday's vehicle accident that took
two Williston High School students
from us and left a third in critical
condition is the kind of thing that
overshadows just about every aspect
of daily life. Ball games'and city
council meetings and yard sales and
rodeos take a back seat. None of it
seems as important as it did a week
ago.
   Tiffany Oliver and Marqui
Cook, both 17, were killed in the
accident, and 15-year-old Nikole
Brown was critically injured when
the truck Oliver was driving left a
Marion County road and crashed into
trees shortly before 3 a.m. Sunday,;
according to the Florida Highway
Patrol.
   Any loss of life is devastating. It
hurts a little more when those lost
were in the prime of life. And when an
accident like this takes place during
the holidays, it just leaves youth numb.
   Finding. a silver lining to this cloud
 may be easier said than done,,but
 it's out there. Something good will
 come of it - perhaps something small
 ;and somewhat insignificant, perhaps
 something more. A young person will
 take extra precautions when behind
 the wheel of a vehicle - driving a
 little bit slower than they otherwise
 would, taking time to buckle that seat
 belt when they otherwise wouldn't.
 Another will dedicate himself or
 herself to the memory of Tiffany and
 Marqui and use that motivation to
 excel academically, or athletically, or
 personally. Almost certainly, there are
 people all over Williston and Levy
 County who have a new respect for
 the fragility of human life, and as a
 result will begin to live their own lives
 a little fuller.
    Small rewards when the price we
 paid to get them are two young people
 - the most valuable resource any
 community has.
    For the families and friends
 of Tiffany, Marqui and Nikole,
 Christmas may never be the same
 Again. And for the students and faculty
 of WHS, the second half of the school
 year probably appears to be a bit of an
 ,uphill climb.
   Principal John Lott, along with
 members of the School Board of
 Levy County, will certainly take the
 proper steps to ensure those who need
 counseling to deal with the tragedy
 get it. Students and faculty will no
 doubt come to the assistance of the
 families of the three girls. That is what
 caring people do, and the Williston
 community certainly knows how to
 circle the wagons, to take care of its
 own.
    We saw that last year when a
  young mother lost her life in a terrible
  accident. Friends and families came
  together to provide warmth and
  comfort to those in need, to ensure
  they would not have to go through
  such a difficult time alone. A shoulder
  to lean on, someone to talk to.
    They will do it again this time,
  make no mistake.
     Time heals all wounds, and in time,
  Williston will certainly heal. Right
  now though, the promise of a New
  Year seems a little difficult to find.


By Terry Witt
Staff Writer

Many of life's biggest
            problems seemed rather
            small on Dec. 21, 2008
            when my father's heart
failed. It took a couple of minutes for
Mom to realize he was unconscious.
It was early morning. She thought he
had fallen back asleep. She quickly
called my older brother, who lives
the closest, and the 911 center. It
took my other brother and his wife
three minutes to drive to my parents'
house and another minute or two
for a deputy sheriff to arrive. The
ambulance got there as fast as the
paramedics could drive it.
   By the time my brother gave him
CPR, the deputy gave him CPR,
paramedics gave him CPR, then
shock treatments with a defibrillator,
and finally a dose of some type of
fluid that started his heart, he had
been without a heartbeat for what
my older brother estimates was 14
minutes. He wound up in a persistent
vegetative state. Doctors gave him a
1 percent chance of waking up. Even
if he did awaken, they said he would
never remember any family members,
including my Mom. The news was
grim.
   After a family conference, a
 decision was made to take him off
 life support devices. Doctors replaced
 an apparatus that breathed for him
 with an oxygen,mask and withheld
 nutrition. It was an agonizing decision.
 Naturally we all prayed for a miracle.
 We waited for what seemed like an
 eternity. It was really only about a
 month. Dad woke up one day and
 asked what he was doing in the
 hospital. Mom was jubilant.
    A year later, dad is doing well.
 I talk to him every week by phone.
 He went to a Christmas Eve church
 service with my Mom and my older
 brother and his wife last week. The
 icy roads in Wisconsin did not deter
 my older brother or Mom. They were
 going to the church service, by gosh,
 ice or no ice. Wisconsinites drive on
 icy roads all the time. It is part of
 living through Wisconsin winters.
 Earlier in the day, Mom and Dad
 took part in the big Christmas family
 gathering at their house.
    Dad is not back 100 percent, but
 he is Dad again. He knows me and
 recognizes my voice. We talk about
 the weather, the Green Bay Packers,
 manatees, and a wide array of other


subjects. Dad and my Mom are
ready to celebrate their 60th wedding
anniversary in January, and everyone
in the family feels thankful he will be
there to enjoy it with my mother..
   The year 2009 was a difficult one
for the family. We took it one day at
a time. Most of us in the family do
believe a miracle occurred when Dad
woke up. Dad's doctors can't explain
what happened. They don't deny his
recovery went far beyond their highest
expectations and then some. We got
our miracle. Dad came back from
the most horrible of conditions. He
enjoyed a snowy, icy Christmas with
the family this year.
   We're all hoping that 2010 will be
a year of less stress, although no one is
complaining about the little things that
happen to us now. We know we could
never ask for a greater Christmas gift
than what we have received. Dad is,
81 and every day of life is a gift for
someone who has been through his
type of ordeal. He jokes with us and
sometimes remembers things most of
the rest of the family can't recall. The
fact that he knows all of us and can
remember things about all our lives is
amazing.
   Life does goes on in other mundane
 ways. Someone asked me the other
 day what politics might be like in
 2010. I said I didn't know, but I
 suspect on the national level it will
 continue to be turbulent and divisive.
 Health care reform is front and center,
 along with the war in Afghanistan and,
 to a lesser extent the war in Iraq, and
 the recession. I keep hoping American
 troops will capture or kill Osama Bin
 Laden, the satanic mastermind of the
 2001 terrorist attacks on American
 soil. I keep hoping someone will
 explain the health care bill to me. I
 have no clue about what's in it.
    There will be an off-year national
 election in November. I think most
 of Congress will be on the election
 ballot. It should be interesting to
 find out how the American electorate
 feels about the state of the union,
 the wars,, the health care bill, the
 economic recession and all the other
 issues swirling around the beltway in
 Washington, D.C. I won't make any
 predictions.
    It's not that I don't care about what
  is happening. I do care passionately.
  But my dad's illness last December
  gave me a new set of priorities, or
  perhaps refocused me on what is
  really important in life. Human life is
  such a sacred gift. It is impossible to


put a value on it. I do know that Dad's
experiences have taught me not to take
the "little things" for granted anymore.
   When Dad was unconscious and
in a persistent vegetative state, I
wondered if I would ever hear his
voice again or see him lumbering
around the house. I wondered if I
would ever argue with him about
national politics again. I wondered if
the big lug would ever'wrap on'e of
his long arms around my shoulders
again. I wondered if I would ever get
a chance to say goodbye to him before
he passed.
   When he was unconscious, I was
 down here in Florida and debating
 exactly what I should do. One day I
 called his hospital room and a male
 nurse at the hospital, Pete, gave me
 details about Dad's condition. Dad
 was still in a persistent vegetative state
 at the time. The nurse said he didn't
 know if Dad could hear me, but he
 was willing to put the phone up to his
 ear to let me talk to him. I told Dad,
 things I probably never would have
 had the courage to say to his face,
 such as the love I felt for him and how
 much I missed him. I told him he had
 to make an effort to wake himself. I
 said no one else could do it for him.
 I hoped he heard me. I had no idea
 if my words had disappeared into a
 dead brain. I prayed for his recovery
 afterward.
    It wasn't too many days later that
 Mom, who never left his side for
 the entire time he was sick, and who
 had talked to him constantly at his
 bedside, heard him ask where he was.
 My "conversation" with him earlier
 by phone when he was unconscious
 probably had nothing to do with him
 waking up. But it had given me an
 emotional release I needed.
    Mom has been talking to him
 continuously since that time. I know
 he appreciates the little things too,
 such as hearing her voice and feeling
 her presence.' Five months ago, he got
 a chance to see a great granddaughter
 born to one of his grandsons and his
 wife.
    Dad is getting along better than
  doctors could ever have expected. He
  has his ups and downs, but none of
  us are sweating the small stuff, and
  neither is Dad. He's glad to be alive,
  and we're glad to have him back
  walking and talking among us.
    I hope 2010 also brings blessings
  and happiness to you and your family.
    God Bless.
    And don't sweat the small stuff.


Happy New Year!


        Dad's heart failure taught me to


appreciate life, not sweat the small stuff