Hope in the Dark

Article published Dec. 30, 2009

Meade County Messenger

Hope in the Dark

by Kevin Hatfield

Radio transmission… (Widowmaker main…Widowmaker main…we are under fire, repeat we are under fire…over) (Understand Sable… under fire… Widowmaker 23 and 26 are patrolling your sector… Move back to adjacent rally point... They are coming in hot…Over)

It was one of the darkest nights I had seen since I’ve been here in Afghanistan.  We breached the compound and had taken up position on the rooftop next to the main building.  Everything was going according to plan.  Intel said the high value target was inside, when it all started.

We threw flash bang grenades in through a window and rounds came out from everywhere.  There was a machine gunner inside a tower just on the far side of the building dug in deep.  We returned fire but the rounds were flying both ways.

We could hear the apache coming when the cannons opened up.  Widowmaker 23 put a hundred rounds through the windows and doors.  Tracer rounds exploded when they hit. I had to look away because it was so bright.  We threw everything we had at the building. Parts of the wall were falling; we could hear the bullets flying by and see the grenades explode. It was so loud… oh, I could hardly think. It looked like the Fourth of July.  I could see everything like a spotlight had lit up the courtyard. I couldn’t believe anybody was left alive inside.  Then I felt the hit…

Radio transmission… (Medivac!!… Medivac!! We have a man down!  Extract from rally point bravo ASAP!!!)  (Negative Sable…LZ (landing zone) to hot, repeat LZ to hot...)

I woke up at Walter Reed hospital.  I was doing better according to the doctors.  I ask my wife what happened.  She told me an officer came to get her and said I had been shot, but was stable.  They flew me back here for treatment.  My squad leader, Sgt. Machmehan, called about a week ago to check on me and share some details. I had taken a direct fire through the chest and fell from the rooftop into the courtyard.  They dragged me out to the rally point but the Medivac couldn’t pick me up because we were still under fire.

Seems one of the Apaches, Widowmaker 23 flew me out to the refueling point to meet the Medivac.  I tried to explain to her that wasn’t right because it only holds two people and it takes two pilots to fly.  Then she told me the rest of the story…

Widowmaker 23, the flight leader, had taken rounds which degraded his aircraft and wouldn’t fire the weapons.  Widowmaker 26, his flight wingman, took over the engagement and 23 moved above to observe and handle radio communications.  He heard the Medivac call… He also heard Sable say you would die if you weren’t evacuated.  Widowmaker 23 landed in the hot LZ and put out his copilot to make room for you.  He flew you back to meet the Medivac at the refueling station without weapons, no copilot, and came back for another person before picking up the other pilot.

I’ve thought that night through a thousand times as I work my way through rehab. The sounds still haunt me in the night but now I’m not alone. We each find ourselves in our own darkness, when we think we have no hope. But I remember a special promise.  Jesus said He would never leave us or never forget us. In my darkness he sent a pilot who against all odds carried me to safety.  He carried me to a new beginning, one with hope. 

When the night falls in around me… I don’t think I’ll make it through… I’ll use your light to guide the way… All I think about is you… 


Dedicated to my dearest friend...
CW3 Marcus Hazel
101st Airborne Division

Coming Home

Article published Dec. 23, 2009
Meade County Messenger

Coming Home

By Kevin Hatfield

The dawning sun sparkled across the frosty grass looking out my kitchen window.  The house was still quiet and peaceful as I reached for the coffee pot and began my day.  The wind was blowing outside and I couldn’t help myself but to crack the door open just enough to feel the cold air.  It was so crisp and clean as it blew winter’s edge through the doorway.  Kind of refreshing it seems, unhindered in some ways, brutal in others.  It’s been three years since I’ve felt this kind of cold.  Three years since that cold chilled me to the bones.  Aw… but what three years will do.  But that’s the story isn’t it?

And when they had done all the things according to the law they (Mary, Joseph, and Jesus) returned to Galilee, to their own city of Nazareth to start a new life.  And Jesus grew strong and in the ways of God. (Luke 2)

I lay awake that night, three years ago, about an hour before the shelter opened.  I’ll never forget that feeling, waiting for the sun to rise so I could make my way from the rail yard to the shelter to get warmed up.  Each minute passed slowly, I could hear the wind then too, but then it meant something totally different to me, it meant death.  I couldn’t feel anything, but yet everything hurt in some way, almost frozen to my bed of boxes. My cardboard ‘house’ didn’t slow the wind down much, and many of my kind had lost this battle on nights like this. At dawn I walked best I could into the shelter’s warmth when I was greeted by a child no more than eleven with a smile and “Good morning.”

Good I thought and ignored her as I passed.  “Good morning, sir!” again she insisted.  “Did you see my button?”  I turned to face her almost angrily and there it was, a button proudly proclaiming, “CLEAN the air, use kind words.” In bold green letters.   I couldn’t help myself, I had to laugh, how ridicules a thought this was in my circumstances.  A second ago I just about polluted it with profanity, but somehow this young girl reached into my frozen heart.  You see I was a father once, before tragedy struck my life.  That coupled with bad choices and no will to go on led me here today.  Nothing to cry about, that’s just the way it is.

I moved through the breakfast line, but made my way back towards our door greeter just to hear the brightness in her voice.  It was no problem finding a seat near the door.  The air blew in every time it opened and nobody wanted to be reminded that soon we would all be back outside in the cold again.  I watched her greet each person with the same enthusiasm as they entered.  It didn’t even seem to bother her that we smelled bad. She was filled with so much joy, if she was nervous it didn’t show.  I HAD to know; there had to be a story behind this button.  So as I eat my grits and toast, I ask, “Where did you get that button?”  She smiled the biggest smile and proudly proclaimed “Sunday School.”  She began to tell me about kindness and how our words carry feelings.  She reminded me so much of my little girl so long ago...

I left the shelter that day.  I thought about what she told me about being kind and how our words carry feelings.  Feelings… the more I thought about it the more I realized how long it had been since I had real feelings.  I thought about this for a long time and finally let myself feel again. And when I did, the floodgates of old emotions came pouring out.  I cried for most of the day.  I thought of my little girl, that died so young, and my wife. Oh, how I missed them. At last, I settled in on the thoughts of how I got here.

That night I don’t think I slept at all. My mind raced through the years and times past.  I barely felt the cold.  I felt like I had finally found myself again.  I couldn’t get over that little girl.  Why was she there?  Why was she so happy?  Who was she?  And that button “CLEAN the air, use kind words.”

The next couple of months were a whirlwind of change.  It all began with those kind words from a little girl that encouraged me.  After going through a series of shelters and half way houses, with some help from community programs, I found a place of my own.  I started a job at the grocery store, stocking and cleaning at night.  My world had flipped from homeless to hopeful all because of one little girl and a button.

As time went on I settled into a good position at the grocery store chain, and found myself managing a small store not too far from the shelter. I walked passed one day; I couldn’t believe how far my life had come since that cold winter morning.  Now, when the cold wind blows, I think about how I got a second chance at life.  That cold wind is refreshing now. Looking back, it blew in CLEAN air and one small girl.

Mary and Joseph left for Bethlehem but it was over two years before they made their way back home.  And even though Nazareth was home to them now, their lives had changed more than they could have dreamed.  Many of us make plans and goals that don’t turn out the way we hoped because of life’s circumstances.  But the one thing that remains a constant, Love.  Kindness in the story is an extension of a Love that can only be found in God.  Kind words and actions can make differences in people’s lives.  It creates hope, encouragement, and strength.  As this Christmas season comes to a close and things get back to normal, I hope you find it unusual.  By that I mean, I hope you’ve found Love.  The Christmas gift of Love that God gave us in Jesus is a kindness that is meant for every heart to feel and to share.  It’s my hope, it’s my prayer, that you have found your CLEAN air… in Love.

Disconnected

Article published on Dec. 16, 2009

Meade County Messenger

Disconnected

By Kevin Hatfield

The room was dimly light as he stood as the foot of her bed.  Just a few short years ago she was a baby laying in his arms, and now his little girl of ten lay sleeping.  So many nights he tucked her in with bedtime stories and saying prayers side by side on their knees.  A great relationship these two have, she’s daddy’s little girl.  But tonight all that happiness seems to have faded off in the distance.  Tonight is another night by her hospital bed.

He wonders “why? She’s just a child?”  But sometimes life doesn’t give us these answers.  So the loving hugs and smiles they shared were replaced with just lifeless sleep.  No story time, no butterfly kisses, only the memories of how it used to be, how it was supposed to be.  Now it’s just him watching her, instead of them, together.  He felt as if he had a hole in his life, an absence that he couldn’t fill.  He would do anything to make it like it was, before this.

Wise men from east of Jerusalem had heard the old prophetic stories their whole lives, of how God would send a savior to the world to save all of his people.  The story passed down from family to family, generation to generation.  Much like grandma sitting in her rocking chair sharing wisdom to the grandchildren at her feet… “I remember when I was young…” But when a bright star in the east appeared the wise men knew they had to see for themselves.  They journeyed far, day and night, to find this small child.  They came with the hopes of offering three small gifts and to worship him.  When they found him with Mary they did just that.  They knew, and saw with there very eyes, this king told in the old stories.

God sat at the edge of heaven looking down at the people on the earth, much like the father overlooking his daughter’s bed.  He couldn’t stand to see them suffer.  So he sent a special gift to the earth, a child to born to Mary that would change everything.  Funny thing is a gift that is never opened isn’t much of a gift.  A present must be received to be something special.  This Christmas find your present and open it. It’s filled with a relationship founded in Love.  Like the wise men found out for themselves, it’s worth it.

He was sitting in the chair by her bed when she squeezed his hand, “Daddy?”  “Yes honey!!!”  “I love you.”  “I love you too.  Doctor says we get to go home tomorrow.”  “Okay.  Will you read to me?” “You bet I will.”

Never forget what you have.