Friend or Foe?

I’ve done more to get people mad at me in my life - than they have for me to be mad at them. All of us have had people that we could consider our archenemies – man, I want to do better than or beat that guy. One of my biggest faults is that I’m to competitive. Sports were one of my greatest joys and vices. People on my team always seemed to like me – but apparently it wasn't as fun to be my opponent. Some people we played against so many times that the competition often was carried over to the next encounter – and was always more intense with friends. There was one group of friends that were great players – a couple of brothers we had known forever. I had a couple of my brothers on our team as well. When we played each other – I remember that we won more than we lost, but they might remember it differently. I don’t know who wore blue and who had on gray – but it definatly was a civil war. Most of our teams knew each other quit well – this association wasn’t just on the hard court, but just about in all aspects of our lives. But I had never considered what the newcomers or newbie’s thought was going on, honestly I think I didn't care. That’s where Eric comes in. This battle, war, competition had gone on for years. When he got involved we were in our twenties and trying to hold on to our youth. The brothers on the their team were guards as were my brothers – but Eric and I were a little bigger and liked to bag it out under the basket. None of these games were lopsided affairs – we were the two best teams in the league and every position was critical to the outcome. After the game we were once again the best of friends - well at least I thought so. I’m sure it was that way with my old friends, but the newcomers apparently didn’t share the same opinion. I had no idea this guy hated my guts! I heard later that there was no one he liked to play against less than me. This wasn’t the same feeling that I had – he was nothing more than an extension of the rivalry with our greatest foes of the hard court. The trash talk, banter and aggressive play had continued from one encounter to another forever. He was just getting some of the ash or fallout from the frequent eruptions. Now, I’ll admit I kind of have a Dr. Jackal and Mr. Hyde personality when it comes to sports. I actually thought I was a nice guy most of the time. Years later I heard that we both moved away - I went just a few miles south and he went to Washington D.C. . While in D.C. he met and fell in love with Amy, a young girl from New Mexico. After they were married they made their home together back in Logan. Amy was a convert to the LDS church in New Mexico, which was one of their greatest common bonds. One day one of the missionaries that had taught her the gospel come to Logan and looked her up. It was a great reunion, one of reminiscing and reflection of those early days in the church. The missionary pointed out that the other missionary that had taught her was originally from Logan. This was of great interest to Eric – who was that? Paul Champlin! No, not the evil foe – the devil of the hard wood, his most hated opponent. Could it be true that this beast had introduced, taught and baptized the love of his life? Their faith was part of the glue that bonded them together. I remember a few years later when we moved back to Logan, at a church function he approached me and thanked me for being a faithful missionary. He then explained our connection. I see Eric and Amy quit often and now we have a friendship – connection - a common bond. Our encounters are pleasant and cordial; of course we haven’t played basketball against each other for years!

Pioneer Trek Practical Joke

It's usually a bad idea to play in an intersection or announce to a bunch of people your doing something wrong before you do it. Under the same concept of DAAA.. you really shouldn't play a practical joke on someone who has more authority or opportunity to get you back. If you make your boss look like an idiot - they better have a great sense of humor or your a great employee they can't do without and hopefully both. Otherwise their act of revenge could make your life miserable. I guess I shouldn't have used the word idiot - you shouldn't pull a joke if it makes them look that bad.

One such occasion was on the golf course - in what many organizations call a team building experience. It's more like an opportunity to get out of the office and play. Now I wasn't the one that had the perfect prop - but I was willing to use it. In all there were close to twenty people from our group on the course that day. Word got out what was going to happen and most of them wanted to see it go down. On many golf courses a number of holes come pretty close to each other and the boss was about to tee off in one of those locations. The majority of us pulled our carts off a short distance away and walked to the tee box - kind of like let's talk and let the boss show us what he's got.

I'm usually one of the vocal ones, I approached the ball making some kind of comment that I needed to know what kind of ball he was using in case I got hit later in the round. Insinuating that he couldn't hit straight and we were in danger. But the true reason for my approach was to change his ball. Now the new ball looked real and unless you looked closely it was hard to tell - we just hoped he didn't check it out. After the switch others joined in, encouraging him to show us his stuff and let it rip. Now this guy was as competitive as the rest of us and he was going to make the greatest shot of the day, perhaps his life. Stepping up to the ball, he went through the shacks, twists, turns and practice swings. Then with all he had - swung for the fences. The next part was classic, hitting the ball it exploded into a cloud of dust, powder - I really don't know what it was made of. There was a definite expression of confusion in his eyes and body as he wondered what had just taken place - of course as the cloud cleared he was met with laughter from the rest of us. After a second or so he understood what had taken place and joined in - the perfect presentation.

Another event that would make this list took place on the plains of Wyoming. This was with a church group and I couldn't have been fired - but it was done to someone that had plenty of opportunities to get me back. My victim was one of our fearless leaders, a member of the Stake Presidency. We were on a pioneer trek with about two hundred teenagers. In order to keep track of the kids and make it fun we split them up into families of eight to ten with two adults that acted as their parents for a couple of days. These parent was what our position was - they called us Ma's and Pa's. In our group was my victims own kid, thus the reason he wanted to spend time in our group. As we were preparing to make the five mile hike back to the camp ground - President Larsen the Second Councilor in the Stake Presidency came up to me and asked if it was OK to walk back with our group. Of course that would be great! He had to go to the restroom and would be ready to head out when he was done.

This gave me just enough time to set the stage and prepare the troops. I pulled everyone together and told them about our visitor. I instructed them that while on the trail when I said who's turn is it - they should respond "I've done it - I've done it." Then I turned to his son and said "you need to make sure you do it as well." He chuckled and agreed to participate, now I had accomplices. It takes a while to walk five miles, so I just had to wait for the perfect opportunity. When I thought it was there I said OK who's turn is it? None of the kids knew what was going to follow their assigned lines - so each of them gladly joined in, if for no other reason than to see what would follow. "I've done it, I've done it, each person joined in the baiting of the hook! President Larsen wanted to know what they were talking about and what they had done. To understand this event I need to point out that for years each of these kids had been part of the primary organization and one of the things they do is sing songs about faith, worship and their heritage. One song tells the story that as pioneer children walking across the plains they passed the time by singing songs as they walked.

I turned to President Larsen and said "Oh you know the song - primary children sang as they walked and walked - we are each taking turns singing a solo. It must be your turn!" He asked what he should sing - "anything you want." He thought for a moment and started into his song - it was a great performance. After he was done we all clapped, then I turned to the kids and said - "now something else you need to know is that when you sin - you need to repent. President Larsen none of us sang a song." We all had a great laugh then he turned to his son and said "you didn't sing either." Depending on the way you look at it that wasn't the end of the story. A year or so later President Larsen called me as the new Stake Young Men's President, that was in charge of planning the next trek - a huge job. When the Stake Presidency was released he was called as the new Stake President and I was called as his counselor. He hasn't made me sing in public yet - but I've had a lot of other assignments. Just be careful who you pull a trick on or get to close too - they may keep you busy for years.

Brother from a different Mother!

The benefit of being a brother with different DNA is that you would have more hair, a smaller head and no heritage that includes an uncle that died on bad Mexican whisky in the arms of a senorita that wasn't his own, or a grandpa that hit on girls at his own wife's funeral. I'm sure we could come up with a lot of positive reasons that our DNA doesn't match on both sides of the fence. I guess both of us would agree that our differences are more than the normal biological maladies that siblings would possess. For the most part this has been a positive that we don't have too much in common!

Technically we're all brothers and sisters in the eternal sense - but if I understand it correctly that doesn't mean we have the same mother. It's safe to say that our greatest bond isn't because of the fruit of someone’s loins, but is a kinship that has evolved or has been forged because of events, circumstances and situations that can't be coincidences. These events have come through joy, sorrow and service that have woven a tapestry that is inseparable over approximately a third of our lives.

So much for first impressions - you put me in the same category or character as someone we have talked about often, and if I was like him I would be nauseous from the radical swings of extremism's. (That's a whole different story!) It took Lori to make sure I considered your placement in the new ward's bishopric. Then the spirit made sure it took place - this is one of the greatest tender mercies in my life. It took a while before we started to click in a way that you would know what I was thinking and start the process to take care of things before being asked. This was always done in the proper order and authority. That was even more obvious when we were released and would look in each other’s direction when something wasn't being done the way we thought it should be.

The one time calling a president was the only time I can remember we didn't click at the same pace. I had some fun with that one - but in the end the Lord's will was accomplished, and the rest of the ward sat in shock needing to receive their confirmation. My Sunday morning rituals were enhanced by our companionship discussions that weren't planned but just seemed to evolve. That relationship was founded on a service foundation has never left those precious roots. Blessings, decisions and strength have always been drawn from this relationship - the byproduct has made it stronger and more dependable.

This has evolved into other aspects of our lives: travel, parties, dinner and games. Our families have an extended relationship and closeness. I still don't know how you beat me at basketball on the high seas! I think that the ship was swaying so that your normally off center shot became straight and sure. At least I didn't lose to Curtis. Golf is nothing more than a diversion for a higher purpose. We both seem to be a little too competitive -- I've never broken my hand in frustration or in an attempt to motivate, or was it both. But you haven't been kicked out of a church basketball game - one of the few fights that begin with prayer. Both of our lives haven't followed the format we would have chosen or thought was in our best interest. Ashley was your miracle that you wish would be duplicated over and over. Your influence on our children is greater that you will ever realize. If you were to give any of them advice - they would think it's closer to thus saith the Lord than anyone else that doesn't have the title of prophet seer and revelator. I know that last part is hard for you to hear - but I agree with it. It's not to make you feel awkward - it shows the process you have of including the Lord in your daily life. Thank goodness for football to bring you back to earth.

Before I get to mushy and build you a monument in the back yard - I cherish the fact that you have become a brother, mentor, example and friend. It's hard for me to have such things - I had two different dogs that ran away the first chance they had.

Over the river and through the woods!

I don't know when or who wrote the song - but going to grandma's house has always been an adventure. Since we've been married we have lived about a six or seven hours drive from Lori's parent's. The younger the kids the more often we made the journey to grandma's. Now that their older it has become a once or twice a year event - but it's usually been on Thanksgiving. I don't know how many rivers we've crossed, there are a number of canyons or woods - but most of the way is covered by sagebrush and then at the end even cactus. When people ask what we're doing for Thanksgiving I always love to see their faces when I tell them were going to Vegas. "Hey baby let's go to Vegas" and "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" might be the themes of the parting crowd, but when we go it's the same as any other visit to the in-laws in a normal suburbia neighborhood. We never go to the strip or see much of the glitz and glamor - except occasionally we go to the casino's, because they have the best movie theaters or bowling. Most of my wife's family lives there, so it's no big deal to them that we come - but its a highlight for our family. Since most of these stories are for historical remembrances there are a couple of memories I should point out. After Lori and I were married we were making our way to Vegas on a unorganized honeymoon to make it to our wedding reception. In a small town named Meadow we were at a gas station and a little bird flew into the store window and died. For years I've turned off the radio or TV and had a moment of silence as we pass Meadow in remembrance of the little bird that lost it's life as we were beginning our life together. On the way there we always eat in Nephi and gassed up in St. George. On the way back we eat and gas up in Cedar City. It's almost like we're creatures of habit - everyone is fine as long as we don't change the agenda. We always need to switch seats at each stop and we had a portable TV that with the help of bungee cords and a makeshift stand made it nice to pass the time. I'm just glad we never got into and accident and that would go fling thought the windshield. When they would say how much further - the answer was in the form of how many more movies they needed to watch. For the first ten or fifteen years we would stop in Kannaraville to see Lori's Grandmother. When we make it to Vegas then the fun begins - well that depends on who you ask, we do do some things that we can't do in Logan. Spencer was the one that had the hardest time at grandma's - all of his cousins were girls and sitting around and visiting only made it fun for a couple of minutes. SO we went to the go-karts, Red Rock canyon, movies etc. Now the girls always want to go shopping and spend time with thee cousins. No matter what way you look at it - being with family was always the highlight of the trip.

Fast Track

We moved to Logan in the Spring of 1994 - this was coming home for me. One of the first things we did was start building of our new home. So I convinced a friend to rent us part of his house during the construction process, this worked out great for both of us since he was single and had more room than he needed. Since I was coming home there was a real possibility that there would be a number of people that knew me from before - good and bad. Also because I came from a large family there was the reputation of those whom associated with the people I was forced to live with as a child. Now you would have to agree it was forced - but in my case that wasn't bad at all, I actually liked my family. Church wise we lived in a different stake than I grew up in and I had a brother that a few years before had been on the High Council and served as as the first Bishop of the Crockett Ward in our new stake. Apparently he had done a wonderful job - which was good for him, but kind of put me on the radar when I showed up. Within a couple of weeks I was called to visit with a member of the stake presidency and was called as a stake missionary. This can be a hard job especially when there are only a couple of people in the area that don't belong to our church. This was a calling I had held a couple of years earlier in Ogden where there was a little more possibility of success. Lori was called with me and it was the first time we worked together in a church calling. It didn't last very long. After we moved into our house - I received another opportunity to meet with the stake presidency. This time it was all of them not just one of the three. So after only serving a few months as missionaries I was called to the High Council and both Lori and I were released from the stake mission. The greatest blessing of being called to the High Council was that my father was able to ordain me to the office of High Priest - he was in failing health and I'm sure this is the last ordinance he preformed during his great life of service. That was one of the tender mercies that I am so thankful for. Now I met with the stake presidency a couple times a month - but not one 0n one like those two interviews. If that was my goal it didn't take long before I had another opportunity. After a few months on the High Council I was called to be a member of the Bishopric in the 40th ward - a singles ward in our stake. I was the second counselor and had a wonderful experience for a couple of months at which time the first counselor was called to a new position. Well guess who became the new first counselor? There isn't a lot of difference except you get another interview with the stake presidency. They never meet with you along - at least not for all of the time. Lori was always asked to come along, to make sure that she could support what I was doing. We had a lot of little kids and it's hard when your husband is off playing around and your left to fend for yourself. She was great and always said the right things even if it wasn't easy to accept. The hardest part for her was that we didn't go to the same meetings and if the kids were acting up I couldn't give them the evil eye of - shape up or else. Oh well - that didn't last much longer as we received a call in October of 1995 to come meet with the stake presidency again. This would be the fifth interview in less than a year and a half. Like all but the first one, there were all three members of the presidency in the room. After we all shook hands, which is definitely and Mormon necessity - Lori made a profound statement, "don't you guys know anyone else in the stake?" Now having served in the stake presidency later, I know that they had other interviews during the year - but that's what it felt like. At that time I was called as the first Bishop of the Eastridge Ward, that was formed a couple of weeks later. This was another sacrifice for the family which Lori supported - but at least now we were in the same meetings and I could see what the kids were doing.

Nunheimer

What's in a name? When you think about it your first name really shouldn't say anything about you. It was given before your parents knew your personality, likes or moods. Now the last name that could bring with it some baggage - I guess a first name could too if your named after an extended family member. Your last name shows your heritage - comes with the DNA, looks and possible weaknesses or deceases. My father had Alzheimer's, studies show that it can be hereditary. My mother and her father both had heart attacks which run in curtain lines. The mom's side of the equation usually doesn't pass on their name, but the DNA is just as powerful. I can't do anything about the DNA or the possible problems - it's the heritage that I hope I can live up too. Each of the boys in my family have middle names that are part of our heritage. My two oldest brothers have my mothers maiden name. The next one has the name of the family that took my father in at a young age and raised him as one of their own, they gave him a home and the love that he had never felt up to that time. Both of these names have extended meanings and should give those that posses them the desire to honor and carry it on with pride. My middle name is Nunheimer - as you can tell it is defiantly German. This is my grandmothers maiden name of, the one that died from complication giving birth to my father. The ultimate sacrifice, she died a few days after he was born I hope she had the chance to hold him and tell him she loved him. At least that's how I envision those few critical days after his birth. Her death set off a series of events that would challenge anyone - but they weren't fair for a child. My father was the only link to the future for the DNA of Nell Nunheimer, these were passed on to each of his children. So with-in my veins and make-up are strands of her DNA, physical straights and weaknesses. I could have some of her mannerisms, looks and who knows what else. We don't have a lot of information about Nell and her family, they lived in Indiana and her parents were immigrants from German that used the name of Nunheim on the journey. Theres a poem about Nancy Hanks the mother of Abraham Lincoln who died when he was nine - believed to be written by Rosemary Benet. Nancy Hanks came back as a ghost wanting to know how her son turned out. "Wheres my son? What happened to Abe? Whats he done?" My father never turned out to be a President or freed millions of slaves - but he was a huge success, he was the father of ten, an attorney, a public and church leader, I'm sure Nell would be pleased to know what he made of his life. Now it's my turn - what would she think of her name sake?

Doctor -Teacher - Mentor - Friend

There's tons of titles in life, some are achieved others are earned. The term Doctor is earned with a lot of education and dedication. For the purpose of my story this title can be used for both a father and a son. There was a family that just lived around the corner from us during the growing up years. The father was a professor at the local University and had his Doctorate - thus earning the title. The son was one of my friends and went on to medical school and then specialized in Orthopedics. When curtain people meet them on the street they would address them as Doctor. I've learned a lot over the years from these two great men and would consider each of them a great influences in my life - but neither of them has ever served me in their doctoring capacities. The son's first title of the listed possibilities was friend - but he's taught me a lot as well. He's the young man I mentioned in the story "Fish" that beat us all to the draw, thus receiving the coveted prize. More as a hobby this family had a farm about twenty minutes outside of town and once in a while I would go there to help. The first time I went my friend told me to pick up a stick and follow him. We went over to a grain bin and when he opened it up there were three or four mice running for cover - we proceeded to use the stick before they could escape. On that same visit we both happened to need to take a pee at the same time. Instead of going back to the house he said let's just go over here out of the way. Now why in the heck would I bring this up - well he forgot to tell me that we were standing in front of an electric fence. Of course he knew, making sure that he was really careful. It didn't take long for me to understand that liquid is a great conductor of electricity. I didn't go to the farm that often, and there were times the family went and my friend stayed home as well. I don't know all of the details but he didn't think his parents were coming home one night. When they did, they decided to make sure he was in bed. As they looking in him room, in a half unconscious state, he thought someone had broken into the house. Instead of running past them or opening the window - he just did a swan dive through the glass on to the bushes and made a mad bash for our house. Back in those days no one ever locked the doors and he came right in and woke us up. So two of my older brothers, myself and my friend started for his house with bats and what ever else we could find as weapons to see what was going on. As we were crossing the street his dad drove up trying to find the sleeping escape artist. The father was always a great teacher and mentor for all of us kids - he was one of the scout leaders mentioned in "Nude People" and was always finding a way to let us know what was right, but more importantly he always made us feel good about ourselves and the accomplishment we archived.