Transparent Christian Magazine

In the summer of 1978, my family moved into a kid’s paradise. I was 7 years old and we rented a house that sat upon a hillside facing Loon Lake, in Rose City, Michigan. I remember MANY details about that house including a hundred old wooden steps that lead down to a dock on the water.

Behind the house was a shared parking area that faced a small cliff with a grassy top, that kept the ground intact.  The cliff had a steep, 40 foot drop off with an all-sand-landing. If you got a running start, you fell for what seemed like forever before you ‘touched-down’ and slid on the warm soft sand. I wonder if I would let my kids jump off of it today, but times were different then and my brother and I spent many afternoons seeing who could cover the greatest “in-air distance” before landing on the sand. It’s a small miracle neither one of us broke our legs.

Loon Lake was spectacular; quiet, kidney-bean shaped and probably 1/2 mile wide and 2 miles long. The perch fishing was good if you knew where to drop a line, and there were wild animals everywhere.

The house we lived in had one large room with 2 bunk beds, a couch, chair, sewing machine and a black and white TV. There was a tiny kitchen and a small bathroom. That was IT…I now understand that it was a cabin, not really designed for winter living, but it was the best we could find at the time, and we lived there for a glorious summer.

My parents had many unique friends, and the cast of characters that I grew up around were interesting to say the least. Billy Bratton was a rough and tumble biker with a good heart. When I was a kid, I thought of him as 9 ft. tall and solid muscle. (He was neither). To this day he has 4 bullets lodged in his body. Two from a smart-alec (and armed) teen that wouldn’t leave his property one summer evening in Detroit, and two from a drug deal gone bad. From what I remember of the story, Billy knew he was in trouble right away. He picked up the buyers, and one jumped in the front passenger side and one jumped right behind him in the back seat. When Billy heard the hammer cock of a pistol coming from the back, he made a quick decision to drive his car INTO a police station that was miraculously, directly in front of him. The robber shot Billy twice in the back before police arrested all three of them. Billy is fully healed, and a much different man now than he was at the time of that incident.

Another friend, Steve Polgar was visiting on a cool day in September. Steve was a good guy, a Vietnam Vet like my father and wanted to take a row boat ride around the lake with dad and me. At the time, I was ‘packing heat’ in the form of a squirt gun pistol, and at first I shot the water, and some imaginary boats. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to get Steve wet though, and I emptied the lake-water filled squirt gun on his shirt, pants and face.

He finally said “Jason, if you squirt me again, I’m going to throw you in the lake when we get back to shore”. I didn’t listen to him, and continued to squirt him all the way back to the dock. Surely, this ‘nice guy’ wouldn’t throw an innocent 7 year old in the water, especially with his father right there, I thought.

When we got back to shore, I was “rear end over elbows” getting out of the boat and I felt Steve’s hands grasp my shoulder and back belt loop. I screamed and Steve tossed me into the shallow waters near the dock. I remember standing up, freezing cold and soaking wet in my freshly mucky jeans and a sweatshirt. My dad was not being overly comforting and I stomped up the wooden steps, hoping to find mom more understanding.  She helped me get dried off, but didn’t offer much sympathy. I carried some anger toward her and my father for awhile.

I have come to realize that the only person at fault was me. As much as I don’t like to admit it, it was a good reminder that all of my actions have consequences.

I believe our Heavenly Father will allow us to go through painful experiences so we rely on Him more, and hopefully grow stronger. Proverbs 3:11-12 “But don’t, dear friend, resent God’s discipline; don’t sulk under his loving correction. It’s the child he loves that God corrects; a father’s delight is behind all this.

My father has admitted that it was difficult for him to see me go through that experience. I wonder what I would do in the same situation with my kids… Probably a good thing they know how to swim!!

Love,
Jason