A Voice in the Wilderness

Sometimes in life we are part of something that is much bigger than us. This story is one of those experiences that defy logic and reason. I have changed the names of the individuals involved to protect them and their families. The only real characters I will refer to is myself and my beautiful bride, Patty. Without her understanding and consoling attitude during the whole process I am about to reveal, this day in the wilderness would have been much difficult. The setting for this scene was West Yellowstone in the year 2005. Our son, Shane, had just left on his mission the previous month and we were empty nesters for the first time. We had been staying in West Yellowstone for several days sightseeing and fishing. We had plans to tour through the southern end of the park on this particular day and maybe go down to Jackson Hole for a day of shopping. After this, we had reservations in one of our favorite hotels in Bozeman, Montana later that night. We planned on traveling up through the park and out the northern entrance near Gallatin, Montana. Our plans were made and we had risen early on that eventful day.

We had traveled only a few miles along the Madison River when we noticed a large herd of elk grazing just off the highway along the river’s edge. I pulled over and told my wife that I wanted to get some pictures for an oil painting I had in mind. I remember that morning as we got out of the truck and it was beautiful beyond words. The sun glistened off the river and sparkled across the ripples as it wound its way around a bend. The elk were intently feeding and chirping their calls to one another as they meandered past us and across the valley.

As I was snapping photos, I took one special picture that remains on my desktop today as a reminder of when I received the first feeling of haste. I can look at that picture and remember the feeling just like it happened yesterday. It is very hard to describe the feeling, but it was a subtle, quiet feeling. It was noticeable and it made me uncomfortable. I turned to Patty and told her that we better get going. As we traveled through the forest and toward the southern entrance to Yellowstone Park that morning I noticed that I was traveling quite fast and I would catch myself speeding and have to slow down. As we came to the intersection that travels out of the park to Jackson Hole I pulled the truck to a stop on the side of the road and reached in the back seat for my maps. Patty asked what I was doing as I stared at the map. I told her we might as well head north and travel through the park and take our time. I said that if we went to Jackson then it would be a long day and we would be traveling through the park later that night. We would miss out on some wildlife spotting. We agreed to change our plans and go north. I immediately had a calm easy feeling as I turned the truck north and I wasn’t exactly sure why. As we sped through the park I became more on edge and found myself in a big hurry for no reason. Twice we encountered Moose along the road and each time I cruised right past as my wife looked puzzled at me. I would find myself riding right up someone’s exhaust pipe and then realize that I was playing bumper tag and have to slow down again. Patty commented several times about my speed and she asked what the rush was for. I didn’t answer. Instead, I just stared ahead like I was in a daze.

As we were quickly trucking around a turn in the road, I noticed a sign that said, "Fisherman’s Bridge" ahead. I slammed on the brakes and pulled just barely over to the side. Cars were flying past and honking at me as I sat there staring at the junction ahead. Patty let me know in her sweet but concerned voice that I was on the verge of some serious wrath. We sat there silent in the truck, staring ahead. Yellowstone Lake was off to our right. If Patty had opened her door that morning she would have stepped into the water. That’s how close I was on a curve to the lake shore. It seemed like an hour as I stared at the junction ahead. Then for some reason I blurted out the words, "Let's go to Fisherman's Bridge and you can do some shopping for the grandkids." The words sounded like they were rehearsed. Well, the words shopping and grandkids go together like turkey and stuffing to a seasoned shopping veteran like my bride. Luckily, I was off the hook for the weird behavior I had previously displayed and all was well in Zion.

I remember as we turned the truck to the right through the intersection and faced east that morning, I had another feeling of calm and well-being. I pulled into the shops at Fisherman’s Bridge and turned the truck off. We got out and proceeded to the main shopping store. As Patty decided to hit the racks of shirts and apparel, I told her that I would get us a soda and meet her at the magazine rack in the middle of the store.

I stood at the magazine rack and looked at the hunting magazines. I browsed through the various pictures and tried to decide on some good reading material. As I was engaged in this venture a weird feeling of impending hurry came over me and I found myself unable to concentrate on anything but getting out of that store. I immediately set the magazines down and walked over to the cooler and put the pop cans back inside. Then I walked as fast as I could and found Patty with several t-shirts and souvenirs in her basket. I told her to leave it all there and we needed to get going. The look on her face would have turned wet concrete into titanium steel in a matter of seconds. As I grabbed her arm and led her out of the store I received a few choice words none that can be repeated here. Needless to say I had hit a nerve and it was a raw one. As we piled into the truck all I could say was that I would make it up to her after we got to Cody, Wyoming. Now, why would I say that? We weren’t going to Cody, Wyoming or even in that direction of travel. My mind was racing and I needed to say something in order to pacify my better half that morning. The words just spit out like they were planned. I told her that there were a lot more stores in Cody and we could find real good things for the grandkids there. I also smoothed over the complete change in plans by saying we could cancel our reservations in Bozeman. I told her we would get us a real nice hotel in Cody. Boy, the words flowed from my mouth that morning. It was like I was a preacher on national TV bilking funds out of the old and poor. At least it worked. My better half is exactly that. 'My better half' She is all the good things that I can never seem to find in myself all rolled into one beautiful person. It still amazes me that she had the patience that day which was desperately needed for this story to unfold.

Returning to the truck we started off east toward Cody, Wyoming for a purpose I couldn’t explain. I just felt calm and at ease when the thought of going to Cody came into my mind. Just outside of Fisherman’s Bridge, on the road there is bridge work along the highway. As I approached it that day the car in front of me came to a stop just before traveling onto the bridge portion of the highway. Looking out my windshield and in the direction we were traveling, I could see the reason for the stop. A large bull buffalo was walking down the oncoming side of the bridge towards our position on the highway. He was about half way across the bridge and taking his sweet time about it. I couldn’t stand the thought of just sitting there while this big old boy sashayed his horns and bulk down the road toward us so I pulled out and passed the car in front of me. I headed straight across the bridge and straight at that big brown hulk meandering toward us. The stern warning I was receiving from my wife didn’t even register on me as we came face to face with the brute. He ducked his head like he wanted to take on my Ford Super Duty, but as we came right up to him he just kept walking along like it was a stroll among the tourist. Clearing the bridge on the other side, all the cars were stopped and a Park Ranger was standing there yelling something at me as we passed by him. Patty turned around in her seat and said he was yelling at me to stop. I didn’t hear anything and I never looked back. Once I cleared the bridge I gunned the diesel and the turbo engaged. We went flying toward Cody.

I had wide open road and we were making good time, but there were forces at work that day which I can’t explain. Right when I thought things were going smoothly we came around a bend in the road and a line of cars were stopped for at least a mile with a flagman standing in the way. We were halted behind a group of bikers. That particular year the road that travels out the east entrance of Yellowstone was being repaired at the steep part of the mountain just before you leave the park. As we came to a halt, everyone was walking around and feeding popcorn and snacks to a bunch of Crows that had gathered on the ground around the scene. I just sat there with the engine running until Patty told me to turn it off and roll down the windows so she could feed the birds some peanuts we had. It took a lot for me to turn that truck engine off that day and at the time I didn’t know why. It was just a feeling I had of needing to hurry for no reason whatsoever. I remember sitting there and I couldn’t concentrate on anything happening around me. Patty was throwing the crow’s, and camp robber’s their beggars treats, the bikers were lounging around and everyone seemed to be entertained with the scene before them.

Sitting behind the wheel of the truck I waited anxiously for the flagmen to finally allow our side of the road to slowly drive through the construction at the top of the mountain pass. Once we were passed the mess we starting down the other side of the mountain grade. I found myself running the truck right up the tail of the bikers we were behind. Patty kept telling me to back off before they got upset. Every now and again one of the women on the back of the bikes would turn around and give me the look. For some reason, I didn’t care about anything but chasing down that hill at the speed of light.

Finally, we rounded a curve and the Yellowstone 500 came to a halt. There before us lay Buffalo Bill’s, Pahaska Village. Immediately upon spying civilization Patty demanded we stop so she could visit the restroom. To tell you the truth, I think she was trying to slow down this halfwit on the road. I didn’t want to stop, but a stern look convinced me otherwise. I pulled into the parking lot and just sat there with the engine running. Patty looked at me and asked if I was getting out. I told her no and that I would wait in the truck. She asked if I was going to turn the truck off. I told her no and then said she needed to hurry. Well, that was the pine cone that fell from the tree that started the avalanche. The truck door slammed harder than ever before. As I sat there thanking Ford for steel door hinges, she marched off and mumbled something under her breath which probably would have burned a drunken sailor’s ears. I just sat there staring ahead like a deer in the headlights. There was a small play land area for children just in front of my truck about thirty feet. I sat with the engine running watching the children and scanning the restaurant door occasionally for my wife to return. I was not sure how all this would work out. I started doubting myself and trying to figure out what was wrong with me that day. After all, we were on vacation and we were supposed to be having a good time. Instead, it seemed like we were trying to set a land speed record through the Wyoming forest. Patty knew something was up because she came back fairly quickly and of all things she had a smile on her face. Right when I thought I was in the doghouse, I was fully forgiven with a soft sweet smile. The ice in the air melted and my world turned sunny again. She climbed in the truck and said she was sorry for slamming the door. I’m the one that should have been apologizing for going around half-cocked in the forest.

Back on the highway again, I found myself hitting pedal and brake back and forth as we sped down the pine forested turns. The Absaroke River was on our right side and the road wound down the canyon along its sandy shoreline. We had barely gone two or three miles from the Pahaska Village when we came around a sharp turn in the road. Off to the side, we saw a man leading a horse out from the thick pines with blood on his shirt and pants. He continued to lead the horse out into the middle of the road so that I had to slam on the brakes or we would have hit him. He raised his hands up for us to stop and then he started walking around to Patty’s side of the truck. I immediately told her to only roll down the window a little because my pistol was under the back seat and out of reach.

As he (Bill) came around the side of the truck he was very out of breath. He started to inform us that he and his friend were packing into the wilderness when his friend and horse went over the cliff down the mountain. He didn't know what to do and looked like he was confused about the situation. I told him to stay right where he was and that I would drive back to the Pahaska village to notify the Sheriff and get help. We spun that truck around and made blazing speed for the village. Patty ran in and notified the managers of the accident and to call 911. We then drove back down the road to where we had left the man.

When we pulled up there was a highway patrol car that had been patrolling down the highway. He had stopped and was getting all the information from the man covered in blood. As I stood there listening to the two of them talk he said he thought his friend might be near death and that he needed to get back to where he left him. About this time, a young horse wrangler from a dude operation came up on the side of the road with about ten saddled horses. The highway patrol officer asked them if they might use the horses for the search and rescue people that were coming from Cody. Apparently, the accident was in the wilderness area some 4-5 miles from the highway. Horses would be needed to reach the victim and all the gear that search and rescue would need. As we sat there listening to Bill, he started to  get very nervous and said he didn’t want to wait for search and rescue. They would be at least an hour’s drive to that point then they would need to traverse the trail to the scene. He suspected that his friend would be dead by then so he was getting ready to ride back to where he left him. The patrol officer didn’t want him to go alone. Something came over me and I said that I would go with him. I walked over to the wrangler and asked if I might borrow one of the horses to ride in with Bill. He told me to choose any of his horses. With that, I chose a big stout palomino gelding and started adjusting the stirrups. I told Patty to wait with the truck and I would be back. As I rode past the patrol officer he said, “I can’t let you two go in there, all we need is another accident.” I just rode right past him without looking at him. As I did I heard Patty say to him that I had been riding and packing horses all my life. This must have pacified him for I never looked back and he never called out to us.

This scene happened so fast that the next thing I knew I was following Bill on his horse down off the embankment and into the Absaroke River. I didn’t have anything with me other than the clothes on my back and a pocketknife. I didn’t know where we were headed and I had never been in that part of the country before. All I knew was that a man I’d never met was leading me to an unknown destination to witness an accident that had taken place earlier in the day. Bill and I did not speak directly to one another as we started into the river’s edge.

Sometimes in life you get those feelings that things might not go as you would expect and this was one of those times. As we started into the river I wondered why we would be crossing at that point. The water was swift and deep and before I could raise a question out of my mouth the horses started to drift downstream and it became obvious that we were going to have to swim for it. I slid back and laid my legs back over the big horse’s rump. As the horse lunged forward swimming in the current, I hung to the saddle horn and reins. We found ourselves downstream about fifty yards from where we had entered the water. The horses finally found their footing on the stream bed below. As we pulled up out of the water I breathed a sigh of relief. Bill took his horse straight up the steep river bank and almost pulled the horse end over end back into the river. Bill’s horse lunged and stumbled, but finally got enough footing to climb out on top of the bank. I took the palomino on a sideways path that was much easier. As I got to the top of the river bank I swiftly rode up to Bill’s horse and grabbed the reins and stopped the horse from going any farther down the trail. Sitting there soaking wet and looking into the eyes of Bill I could see he had enough fear for all of us. I calmly asked him if he was experienced with horses and he told me that this was his first time in the saddle. I nearly fell off of my horse when those words came out of his mouth. I quickly told him to get behind me and I would set the pace up the trail or we would both be going over a cliff. He agreed and I started to look for the tracks that he and his friend (Bill) had made earlier that morning. I finally found where they had come out of the river and onto a wilderness trail. That river crossing was only about two feet deep and no threat to the horses or riders. I marked that spot for our return trip and we started down the trail as fast as the horses could walk.

By this time, it was early afternoon and the July sun dried out our clothes and boots as we rode along in silence. Every now and again I would ask Bill if anything looked familiar to him and all he said was no not yet. I followed a set of pack animals tracks that I was sure had been made by Bill and his friend earlier that morning. We rode along tracking for several hours when finally we came to a spot where the trail turned up a steep grade through the thick pines. I had a feeling to stop there and question Bill. He was confused and not sure where he had left his friend. As I was looking through the forest, I thought I saw a small patch of white about two hundred yards up the canyon. Instead of turning up the steep trail we rode another fifty yards up the canyon floor towards the spot I could see. Bill said that he thought this was where he had walked into the forest from the trail. I could see something white on the forest floor among the fallen lodge poles in front of us. I asked if his friend had on a white tee shirt and Bill said that he did. About this time a young girl came up from behind us riding one of the dude horses. I asked her if she would go back along the trail and bring search and rescue up to that point on the trail. She said she would and quickly rode her horse away from us and back down the mountain toward the river. Bill and I tied up the horses and started walking toward the spot I had my eyes on. I didn’t know what we were in for that hot July day, but nothing could have prepared me for what I was going to experience in that wilderness setting.

As I walked toward the white object I remember how quiet the forest was that day. Not an animal was moving not even a chickaree and I thought it quite strange to be that still. Finally, I could see a human form strewn among the lodge poles. The fallen pine poles reminded me of a game I used to play as a young boy called pickup sticks. You would grab a handful of small plastic sticks about the size of a giant toothpick and drop them on the table or floor and see how they landed. You would then take turns trying to pick them up one of a time trying not to disturb any other sticks. The lodge pole pines were lying all over the forest floor just like pickup sticks. A major snow slide in the past had slid them down the steep mountain from above and they were collected at the bottom of the canyon in a jumbled mess. Right in the middle of one such tangled affair laid a human body. I was nearly out of breath trying to climb through the mess and reach the lifeless form. When I finally got to the victim my heart sunk in my chest and a knot swelled up in my throat. I looked at Bill and he had tears in his eyes. He asked if he was dead. I didn’t respond, but I thought he might be.

His face was covered in blood and flies. He was suspended off the forest floor nearly two feet from twisted pine poles. His left leg was broken and contorted in a horrible fashion, back up behind his torso toward his head. His right arm lay dangling behind him obviously broken. His whole body looked out of proportion and not natural. I immediately took off my cowboy hat and fanned the flies away from his face. I knelt down beside him in the best possible position I could and put my face next to his mouth and nose. I could not feel him breathing. As I rose up Bill asked me one more time if he was dead. Just as I was about to answer Bill, John moaned and gasp for air. I nearly fell over right on the spot. We both heard him groan and then he started to cry and asked us to tell his family that he loved them. He was mumbling and moaning words that could not be understood. All this time I kept fanning the flies off his face. Bill asked what we should do and I said nothing but try and make him comfortable without moving him. I suspected he was broken up inside his body. We put a small tee shirt under his head that rested on a pine pole and I put water on my fingers from a canteen and moistened his lips. His face was bloody and his eyes were swollen shut. John would go in and out of consciousness several times over the next half hour. Each time he would come back to life he would cough and choke and then start to cuss the world over. Finally, he would ask us to tell his family things if he died. Bill and I were helpless to do anything or at least that is what I thought.

It seemed like time just literally stood still. We stood beside John as I tried to keep the flies off of him. Finally, I heard some voices and looking around I could see search and rescue coming through the fallen lodge poles. What happened next will forever be ingrained in my mind and soul. I stood up to see if I needed to help the oncoming rescuers but as I started to turn my body I couldn’t move my shoulders. It was like someone was standing behind me and had both of my arms pinned so that I couldn’t move. This happened so fast that it took me by surprise. A feeling came over me as I stood there that I needed to give this injured person a Priesthood Blessing. For those of you not familiar with this ordinance performed by the LDS Church Priesthood holders I have left a link at the end of this story that if you choose to, you can investigate its purpose on this earth. My mind immediately went into argument mode because I didn’t want the injured man to tell me to go to hell if I approached him in this condition. I suspected he wanted nothing to do with blessings or religion at this critical time in his life. I was hovering over him and still fanning flies when I convinced myself to avoid an embarrassment to myself for even suggesting a religious service. It was then that I clearly heard a small voice in my head say,” Give him a blessing.” It came so clear that I turned my head around to see if someone was standing behind me. My mind was racing with all manner of thoughts at this time. John was cussing and moaning and the last thing I wanted to do was add more misery so I just stood there looking at him lying on the tangled wood poles helpless as he was. I was literally frozen in place. I couldn’t move my body if I wanted to and as clear as day a stern voice on my right side just beyond my ear said,” Give him a blessing NOW.” This immediately made me turn my head around and look for someone standing to my side. As I did this the only thing I saw was the forest floor. It happened so fast that when I realized what was happening to me I got a shrilly feeling that went clear down my spine and through my entire body. I fell to my knees beside John bowed my head and asked God to help me with this blessing. I said a small prayer and asked that I be forgiven for not coming prepared with the healing oils needed for such a blessing. I had a vial of consecrated oil in my truck ash tray, but the whole events of the day had me spinning in my mind and I was ill prepared for the task at hand. An immediate feeling came over me that all would be well and that I just needed to administer a blessing to the fallen man. I wiped the tears from my eyes, stood up and looked at the rescue party that was within thirty yards of my position. I set my hat on the ground knelt down beside John and whispered in his ear. I told him I was a Melchizedek Priesthood holder in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and that I was sent there to administer a blessing to him and asked if he would like me to do that for him. The next words that he mumbled nearly shook my foundation because I had prepared myself for the worst. My ear was next to his mouth when he said, “Yes, I would like that and thank you.” I went to lay my hands on his head and Bill walked over to me and asked what I was doing. I told him that I was giving him a blessing. He asked what that was. I told him it was like saying a prayer for him only from a different perspective. He asked what he should do and I told him to keep the search and rescue people back for just a minute until I was finished.

As I lay my hands on his head all thoughts in my mind were quiet and still. The words to the blessing flowed from me in such a way that when I think about it now it amazes me that I would utter such words. The only things I remember clearly was that he would walk upright again on this earth and that he would become whole again and return to his duties as husband and father. Everything else is a blur to this very day. When I finished and stood up there were at least ten people surrounding me and they were all staring intently at the scene before them. I pulled up my hat and started fanning flies just like before as the rescue workers went to work on John. I helped them put a board under him to immobilize his body. We made a small shade lean-to while waiting for the helicopter and the rest of the rescuers, chopped out a path to a clearing and surrounding area for the chopper to land. Finally, the bird came in and landed safely. The flight was from Bozeman, Montana and had two pilot EMT’s aboard. One of the pilots came over and he recognized John immediately. Evidently John was well liked and quite popular around the Cody area. The next thing that happened nearly knocked me out that day. As the pilot got down next to John’s face and was working on his vital signs he told John that he would like to give him something for the pain, but that he couldn’t because he knew the doctors would need to operate as soon as the helicopter arrived at the hospital. The pain medication would not be good for that operation. John mumbled something and the pilot leaned closer to hear what he was saying. His exact words were, "Someone said a prayer over me and I don’t have any more pain.” The EMT pilot looked up at me with a puzzled look and just shook his head. Another feeling shot through me and once again and I realized I was part of a greater plan that day.

We carried John to the helicopter and as I took my hand off of the stretcher handle and helped slide him into the bird a feeling came over me that is hard to explain. It was like a combination of relief and a great burden being lifted from my shoulders. I stood there in a puzzled mood for several minutes after the helicopter lifted off. For some unknown reason, I felt like I was not through for the day. I went back to the scene where John had lain and looked up the mountain to a spot I had noticed earlier. His horse was up the side of the mountain wedged against a large pine tree. I asked one of the young dude wranglers if he would help me with the horse. We literally crawled up that steep grade on all fours. grabbing and hanging on to tree roots. We finally made it to the horse after a steep climb. He was lying down against the large pine with his back broke. Fortunately, the horse was dead from the fall and it appeared that he had not suffered other than from the impact. I cut the cinch off with my knife and the dude wrangler and I wrestled with the horses legs until we freed him from the pine snag. As he was free, the horse rolled over one time and then cleared the air for nearly fifty yards free falling and landing exactly in the spot where John had previously lain. If that horse had struggled to free himself after the accident he surely would have landed directly on John as he lay helpless on the pine pole floor below.

We carried the saddle down the mountain and gathered ourselves for the march out of the wilderness. As luck would have it I was the only person in the group that knew how to pack a horse and mule. So with the assistance of Bill and the young dude wrangler we packed all the search and rescue gear onto the horses and mules. This would lessen the burden for the rescuers and make for a faster accent off the mountain. The rest of the horse ride out of the wilderness went off without incident. The only people we met were the area rangers coming into the forest to find and saw up the remains of the horse and haul it out on mules. This was done for the safety of hikers in the area. The entire area was lousy with grizzlies and a dead horse would bring them in like sharks on blood. There was a famous grizzly in the area that day called “Old Moaner.” We didn’t encounter him and I was glad.

When we arrived back at the river our route took us through knee high water across the Absaroke River, not the swim for your life crossing I had made earlier in the day. My heart nearly sank in my chest when I saw my beautiful bride waiting patiently in our truck. She had sat there for nearly five hours in a wilderness turnout with nothing to do but sleep and read. She didn’t know where she was nor if or when I would return. But there she was smiling and more cheerful than I would have been under the circumstances. I helped Bill unsaddle his animals and load them for the trip home. He bid me goodbye with a heart sincere thanks and told me he would keep me informed about John’s condition. I said my goodbyes to the young wranglers and search and rescue and climbed in the truck. As I started the engine a complete feeling of peace came over me and brought tears to my eyes. The enormity of the day weighed upon my heart and I thought that I had experienced a day that not many would understand in life.

My day was nearly at an end when my better half shocked me with the statement of all statements. She asked if I had given the injured man a blessing. I asked her why she would ask that. She said that she thought that was the reason I went in there in the first place and that the injured man was LDS. I slammed on the brakes, pulled to the side of the river and looked at her with puzzled eyes. “How do you know he was LDS?” I asked her. “Well, when you were fixing your stirrups I overheard Bill tell the highway patrol officer that John was a Mormon. I assumed you knew and that is why you went in there.” God had thrown me a curveball to end all pitches. I just stared at my wife in utter disbelief. “You mean to tell me that you knew he was LDS, but neglected to tell me? I’m the one that nearly got us all killed not once, but many times today for reasons unbeknownst to me. She just put her soft hand in mine and gave me that all is well soft tender squeeze. You know the one, where nothing on this earth can come between you and your love.

It all worked out that afternoon and we made the drive to Cody, Wyoming. We found the last room available in town and settled down to a night of pizza and soul searching. There is always something about a story like this that if you shared with someone else it makes it even more tender. Especially if that other person is the love of your life.

Every story needs an ending and this one is no different. Patty and I experienced the ups and downs of a confused day in the wilderness that July. We didn’t know what greater purpose had led us down the path of the almighty and his designs for his children. Looking back on the whole affair my mind is amazed with several details that were put into place at exactly the right time for any of the events that day to have taken place. When I first received the prompting by the river’s edge in West Yellowstone, Bill and John were crossing the Absaroke River and turning up a wilderness trail nearly one hundred miles away from where I stood looking at the river. With all the delays from stopping to shop, feeding birds, using the bathrooms and all the rest, Patty and I came around a sharp turn in the mountain forest at just the exact moment that Bill came onto the road surface. If we had been five seconds faster we would not have seen him for the thick pine floral that covered the edge of the forest along the road. Unbeknownst to me, I was led down a path by the spirit to a critically injured man lying near death on the wilderness floor. I was delivered to his attending side for the purpose of administering aid and a blessing from his Father in Heaven and all those Angels that were in attendance that day.

In retrospect, the injured man had broken his neck in several places. He had broken his leg to the extent of needing rods the entire length of his leg. He had a broken his arms and ribs with a full cracked skull. His condition was extremely critical and he was in intensive care for months. He was not expected to ever walk again let alone become a whole person and contribute to society. Well the God I believe in has a way about him that exemplifies his unconditional love for his children. Not only did John heal from his wounds but he did walk uprightly again and he was made whole from the pure love of God and contributes to society to this very day. He was returned to his family and his purposes on this earth are for God to know unto himself.

I have often wondered why me Lord? What made you choose a stiff necked cowboy like me to do your bidding that Wyoming day? Then a soft small thought comes into my mind that I was chosen because I was the only Priesthood worthy person within reach of the scene that could swim a horse through a swift river and trail into the wilderness without complaints to a destination unknown to me. Surely I was also the dumbest specimen that he could find because I had to be led through the wilderness like a bull with a ring in his nose at the fairgrounds. God in his infinite wisdom saw fit to provide me with a supporting cast in the way of an understanding wife that made the whole thing possible.

In reflections as I grow older and the time from that eventful day slips into memories, I can’t help but marvel at the miracles performed that day on behalf of one of God’s children. I can only hope that if there’s ever a next time and the call rolls around and my number is chosen, that I don’t have to take a complete plumbing up by the Angels before I realize what’s happening around me.

In writing this story, I have not been able to tell all of the details as they unfolded that day. It would make for a longer read than I would like to see here on this blog. Believe me when I say that there were many attending Angels in force that day and they were not all visible to the naked eye. They were all around the various scenes comforting and consoling. I have given sorted details as I expect the reader to embrace with this story and that is all I will say about that matter. In conclusion, I would like to say that this story has been told exactly as it happened to Patty and I that eventful day in the Wyoming wilderness. It will be forever etched in our hearts and minds as we relive those memories together in love.

Priesthood Ordinances
https://www.lds.org/manual/family-guidebook/priesthood-ordinances-and-blessings?lang=eng

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