I didn’t know Frank BVN, Before Viet Nam, but I did AVN, After Viet Nam.
He was a high school friend of Lance and I met Lance and others at college my
first year. Frank was a very talented musician, with insight and emotions to
make his guitar weep. BVN he had been a pacifist, got drafted, and in the first
of many bad Army decisions, put him in the infantry. His job, as he told it,
was to kill people. When I asked him once, “did you ever kill anyone?” his
answer has stuck with me, “no one I ever met.” He had turned to drugs to ease
the pain while there, a wounded warrior from the effects of battle, and came
home on a stretcher, an addict. He soon married his high school sweetheart
Barb, and they settled in Bernardsville, and their house soon became party
central. But as the drugs and depression wore on Frank, it had an effect on
Barb also, and soon she too was a victim of Frank’s AVN, and you could see it
wearing on her. She put on weight, smoked a lot, and she too turned to drugs to
ease the pain. For the few years I knew them, he had gotten very cynical, and
vindictive, drugs, combined with alcohol, and no job and a young wife just
pushed him farther away. Slowly he was not asked to participate, Barb couldn’t
take the pain anymore, and she left him. Still very much in love, it was self
preservation for both of them, Frank was critical and no one knew how to
answer.
Like many sad stories, we get tired of hearing them, and one night Frank
called me, which was unusual. I was the newest of friends, and low on the
pecking order, for him to call I knew he was bad. I went over to his apartment
over the bank, and listened to him play all night. His music tearing at my
heart, I can only imagine what it was doing to him. He had gone to work at the
VA, and in their wisdom put him in the dispensary, it was like being in a candy
store for him. And one night he had gone too far, Sandy had put a load in his
cigarette, and it went off at a party. He laughed with the others, but inside
the torment sent him back on the battle field, and he fed her drinks one night,
screwdrivers made with an orange laxative. She dehydrated so bad she had to be
taken to the ER, she almost died, and no one said a word, but Frank had gone too
far, and I was the one left who would answer his call when no one else
would.
As the three of us sat that night, me, Frank,and his bottle of gin, he
played and I was mesmerized by it. But sickened also, as he was mainlining
directly into his stomach, a quart gone in a few hours. Using a syringe he
stole from the VA. The last time I would ever see him, I will never forget the
needle in his stomach, but rather remember his acoustic version of The
Association’s “Along Comes Mary,” which still plays in my memory. I moved on,
moved west, and coming back to visit, had dinner with my old friends, and Frank
was absent. No one knew what had happened to him or Barb, he was here one day
and gone the next.....and I still wonder about him....
Dealing with the homeless and indigent, I see many who have gone the way of
Frank, and are looking for a way back. A generation raised in Sunday School if
not church, they have gone astray, and very few churches welcome them. Oh some
do with a sermon way over their head, and them the dinner, some try to
rationalize their irrational situation, and although they care, are
ineffective. They are looking for love and get fed programs, memorization of
scripture, and more rules of how to live. As we go back to our safe and secure
homes, telling ourselves we did a good job, as they suffer on. There are too
many Franks out there looking, but few answers are given that work. We can
teach them discipline, clean them up and a meal and a bed, but until they change
their hearts, they are no better off. Only Jesus changes hearts, not us, and we
need to get out of God’s way, so he can have his way!
When the first disciples met Jesus, Andrew ran home to tell his brother,
“you’ve just got to meet this man, he is like no one I have ever met.” The
woman at the well was amazed that Jesus knew so much about her and her husbands,
for he was like no man she ever met. The two men walking with Jesus, when their
hearts burned inside, they too had walked with a man like no other they had ever
met. It seems that whenever Jesus met someone their life changed, and still
does today. We are faced with making a choice at that point of who he says he
is, and in every lifetime, each one of us will be asked by the holy spirit “who
do you say Jesus is?” It may be today, or happened already, it may be tomorrow,
in a crowd, at church, or riding. But the spirit is calling out to us, and we
need to answer. While some live in a BVN/AVN world, I choose to live in a AD
world, after Christ. I see the debris of human lives wasted, from drugs to bad
religion, it comes down to a choice. No one forced the needle into Frank’s
stomach, but in pain and desperation he found his answer there, and only made
things worse. The Army definitely didn’t know, nor did the VA, institutions we
trust, but do we trust Jesus with the most important thing, our eternal soul?
Where we will spend the tomorrows after death is more important. Yet we choose
a quickie nirvana, a drug, sex, vindictiveness, or other abuses to stop the
pain. Today we honor those who died, but what about those still missing in
action, those not accounted for, not only on the battlefield, but in everyday
life? Family members, friends, spouses, kids, and others, when we fail Jesus
doesn’t. But it still comes down to our choice, for perfect love demands one.
Truly Jesus is like no one I ever met. From his saving grace, his merciful
forgiveness, and his loving spirit, we can try to emulate him, but never equal
him. He is begotten, unique in all the history of the world, and we can know
him personally. He can free us from the drugs, depression, the religion, and
the bad doctrines. Today we stand at the well like the thirsty woman did, and
he is offering us drink. A drink that quenches a thirst we don’t even know we
have, will you drink of it with him? He forgives your past, and promises you a
future. He stands by you, and loves you. He is the answer the MIA’s need, and
the one that is like no one I ever met. Some cries we hear, but too many are
silent, only Jesus hears them all. He weeps with them, offers them comfort. A
place to rest, and feel welcomed. Sadly he is the last one on many people’s
list to call, when all others have deserted you, like they did Frank, only Jesus
remains.
My friend Nick tells me life is a battlefield, and he lives on one.
Dealing with the Franks of many battles, but only Jesus can rescue. We can
provide aid, but only Jesus heals. We can love, but we all have our limits,
Jesus doesn’t. I wish I could have been there for Frank, but at the time I was
just as lost. The difference is Jesus. All of us will go to war of some kind,
but not all return, yet some return who may have been better off dead. If not
for the grace of God, there go I......reach out in love today, be compassionate,
hug someone, listen to their stories. Be their friend, and unlike Frank don’t
kill no one you ever met, introduce them to the man who is like no other they
will ever meet. Some wounds show the scars, some never heal. I’ll bet the
woman at the well felt the same way.....
Not everyone who was killed because of war has their name found on the
wall.
love with compassion,
Mikematthew25biker.blogspot.com