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Authors: Dale Black

Tags: #Afterlife, #Biography & Autobiography, #Nonfiction, #Personal Memoir, #Retail

Flight to Heaven (24 page)

BOOK: Flight to Heaven
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Within a few years, Dr. Graham and I didn’t see much of each other. He was busy with a thriving practice as well as traveling the country, giving lectures and attending Evel Knievel’s events.
I was still working to regain what I had lost in the accident. Due to the head injuries, my short-term memory had been permanently impaired. For years I studied everything I could on how to improve my memory. I discovered that anything I wanted or needed to learn now had to be placed into my long-term memory, or I simply couldn’t recall it. This required an extraordinary amount of study, review, and more review to get things to “stick.”
In the midst of this new way of living, I was hard at work in flight training, gaining more aviation certificates and ratings, and busy finishing college; I was now married and raising a family, and also worked full time at the family business to pay for it all.
I’ve mentioned that before the crash I had been very active as an athlete. Afterward, I returned slowly to a variety of sports. I played softball, swam regularly, played tennis. I even got back to water-skiing, lifting weights, and some boxing. These activities helped me keep my focus on recovery instead of falling into self-pity about the things I couldn’t do.
Then one day in 1976, while playing sandlot tackle football, I blew it. I pulled back to throw the pass, but my wide receiver wasn’t open (at least that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it). I had to run the ball for the first down. A would-be tackler forced me to jump over him. When I landed, I was pretty sure I’d broken my left ankle.
For three months it hurt horribly. I continued to work and acted as normal as possible in public. But at home, I used my old crutches from after the crash. (I still have those crutches, by the way.) Paula tried repeatedly to get me to go see Dr. Graham. For two more months I refused. “It’ll be fine,” I’d say.
Not only was I in excruciating pain, but I had never told Paula that my ankle was only 40 percent vascularized—that the rest of the ankle bone had no blood circulation and was considered dead.
After her persistence, I finally broke the news to Paula. I also shared about Dr. Graham’s warning not to run or jump, and my foolish disregard of the doc’s advice.
Paula handled the news amazingly well, but she still encouraged me to see Dr. Graham. He had the talent, the experience, and all my files. He’d know exactly what was wrong and what to do about it.
Finally, five months after the football injury, I conceded. Paula made the appointment, and I went to visit Dr. Graham.
As I sat in the examining room, it was as if I had gone back in time. Seven years after the crash everything was still familiar. When Dr. Graham finally walked in he didn’t even say hello or make eye contact. His hands went immediately to my left ankle and he held it warmly, like it was something precious to him.
“What brings you in here today, Dale?”
I explained what had happened.
He took X rays, and a few minutes later we were standing in front of the familiar screen.
Silence.
He said nothing. He didn’t even look at me. Then he gazed out the window for a moment, then back to the X rays.
More silence.
It was more than enough time for somebody to say something.
“Doc? What is it?”
“It’s normal.” He slowly shook his head, rubbed his chin.
“What do you mean?”
“Your ankle is normal.”
More silence.
“Doc, you used to talk to me in percentages. You used to say, 20 percent healed, 30 percent, or 40 percent vascularized. So what percentage are you seeing today?”
He paused, looking for the right words.
“Dale, your ankle is
100 percent
. Completely vascularized.”
The doctor walked out of the room. I wasn’t sure what he was feeling, what it all meant to him.
I borrowed the office phone, called Paula and broke the news. She was amazed and relieved. Together we thanked the Lord.
About ten minutes after my phone call, the doctor came back into the room, composed and warmer this time.
“Dr. Graham, if my ankle is healed, then what is causing all the pain?”
He pointed to the X rays as he spoke in medical terms I couldn’t follow. The bottom line was that although my ankle was 100 percent vascularized, many bones inside the ankle needed relief by repositioning. He picked up my shoe and showed me where it was putting pressure on some of the bones in my ankle. He suggested that I get special orthopedic shoes.
He wrote down the name of a podiatrist and had his secretary make an appointment for me. Then he started fashioning a handmade insert with a pair of surgical scissors.
“In the meantime, put this in your left shoe. It’ll take some pressure off the talus.” Even though I never kept my podiatrist appointment, I did buy some new shoes and kept the insert inside, and the pain slowly faded away. But this whole event seemed to have a wonderful purpose.
About two weeks later, back at our home in Long Beach, we got a call from Dr. Graham. He invited Paula and me to his home for dinner.
Dr. Graham gave us a tour of his luxurious estate, which overlooked the city of Burbank and the San Fernando Valley. I could easily see Hollywood-Burbank Airport, and my eyes gravitated to the newly installed red light on top of the Portal of the Folded Wings.
During our wonderful dinner overlooking the city lights, Dr. Graham showed signs of vulnerability. I had seldom seen this softer side. After dinner we discussed the many miraculous events that he had been witness to throughout the aftermath of the crash. Dr. Graham had a front-row seat, observing a personal, loving God who had revealed himself over and over throughout the days and years following the accident. Ultimately that evening, I was able to share the free gift of pardon made available to us through Jesus Christ. A short time later Dr. Graham surrendered his life to the Lord. His search was over and we became more than doctor and patient. We became brothers in the family of God.
 
About a month later, back home in Long Beach, another phone call came from Dr. Graham. He wanted me to meet with his photographer at the airport for pictures, and he asked me to dress in my pilot’s uniform. I had no clue what he was up to, but I complied. The next day Paula and I met the photographer at the airport, and she took several pictures of me standing in front of different types of airplanes.
A few weeks after that, Dr. Graham’s office called, asking me to come in for follow-up X rays. Although surprised, I agreed.
Returning to the familiar office once again, Dr. Graham met me in the waiting room wearing a good-sized smile. Without a word, he grabbed my shoulder and turned me into the hallway past the front reception desk. I shuffled in front of him.
Evel Knievel’s framed photo had always been the first portrait in a hallway gallery of celebrities, patients of Dr. Graham. But now, to my complete amazement, my photo hung in that prestigious first position. A large color portrait of yours truly, standing next to a Piper Navajo, hung on the gallery wall.
Needless to say, I was stunned and humbled to be worthy of such an honor.
Then three years later, on July 18, 1979, Dr. Graham and his photographer friend met Paula and me in Los Angeles at my favorite restaurant, the Proud Bird. The aviation-themed restaurant is situated on the approach end of Runway 25 at LAX. The big jets land right in front of you. By then I was a pilot for TWA.
After dinner, we toured TWA’s facilities and I showed them the inner workings of the airline. We talked, we laughed, and we fellowshiped.
Although Dr. Graham was my grandfather’s age, he and I had become close friends. If you wonder how this could happen, it’s because all over the world, every day, people from all ages, nationalities, and races share the most amazing relationship on planet earth. They are one in a bond of love—the love of God flowing among brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ.
The most awesome, glorious experience on earth, next to our relationship with God through Jesus Christ, is being a part of the family of God.
 
Only a few months later, just after finishing initial pilot training on the Boeing 707 with TWA, 111 pilots were laid off. I was one of them. This was a huge shock and disappointment.
Due to the fact that I had failed the flight physicals while interviewing with a couple dozen other airlines previously, I couldn’t just go fly with another airline. Dr. Graham, knowing this, thought I might be devastated. So he came by to offer encouragement.
“You know, Dale and Paula,” he said, “God can use this furlough for good.”
I smiled. “You’re right, Doc.”
“He’s done that so many times before. So don’t worry about this. You and God, together, you’ll bounce back.” Now Dr. Graham was the one saying God would take care of it.
The doctor was right. With that furlough came the birth of our jet charter, jet pilot training, and jet aircraft sales company—and a very different future. Years later, I was recalled by TWA.
 
Dr. Graham has finished his race. I’m so grateful that heaven is his home now. I look forward to our wonderful reunion.
LIVING A DIFFERENT DREAM
 
Some would say I have lived my dream. I see it a little differently. I did not so much live my own dream as I lived the dream God had when He dreamed of me.
I have flown with Him on over a thousand mission trips, plus the thousands of professional flights. Here and there on those trips I have seen reflections of heaven in the tens of thousands of faces of strangers who became family to me. Brothers and sisters in Christ, so full of love and joy and unity that it seemed like echoes of the love I felt in heaven.
I have experienced so much.
What an adventure!
I tend to think in aviation images. One image that comes back often is the one-year anniversary flight that I described earlier. The words are crystal clear in my memory: “Burbank Tower, this is 37 November, ready for takeoff.”
“37 November, roger, you’re cleared for takeoff, runway one-five.” A pause, then the words “37 November, this is Burbank Tower. A very . . . big . . . congratulations to you . . . from all of us!”
Tears fill my eyes as I remember my takeoff on that emotional flight. Greater tears come when I realize that the words I most long to hear are not theirs . . . but His: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord.”
Enter into the joy
. . .
For three days in a coma I experienced something of that joy. Both the experience of it then—and the anticipation of it now—have charted the course of my life.
I emerged from that coma to see again . . . walk again . . . fly again.
And most important, to live again.
SIGNING OFF
 
This is your captain speaking: Before I sign off, I want to thank you for taking this trip with me. May the Lord’s protection be upon you wherever you go. Wherever it is, may God go with you. May
He
be your Captain, and
you
the copilot. And when at last your journey is over and it’s time for your wings to be folded, know this: Your homecoming will be worth the trip it took to get you there, however bumpy the ride, whatever “crashes” you experience along the way.
Yes, it will be
so
worth it.
You can trust me on that!
HOW THIS BOOK CAME ABOUT
 
When people find out my husband
was the only survivor of a horrific airplane crash and that he also experienced a journey to heaven, they are often curious about how these events have impacted my life and our marriage. They also like to know how this book came about. Let me explain.
Dale and I met at college in Pasadena, California, almost two years after the crash. My dorm mate had a crush on him, and Dale was the one person I heard “all about.” He was known as the reformed campus rebel, having been expelled the year before the accident for disciplinary reasons. But due to his remarkably changed life since the crash, college authorities allowed him to return, still in a wheelchair.
Dale was an enigma. He was still a rebel, yet he possessed a strong and tender heart for the things of the Lord. His faith in a God who cared and interacted with him on a personal and intimate level was unique, powerful, and attractive.
A year after we met, Dale and I were married. He continues to be my best friend. We’ve raised a family together. We’ve started businesses together. We’ve traveled the world together. We’ve experienced wonderful successes as well as severe challenges . . . but always together. For almost forty years we’ve also ministered side by side. I know him extremely well, and he tells me I’m the only one who truly understands him.
Throughout the years Dale told me several times that he had had an out-of-body experience following the crash. I strongly suspected he had visited heaven, but for some reason he would not talk about it. Why was I suspect? Simple. All the signs were there.
BOOK: Flight to Heaven
13.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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