I look up to the mountains
Does my strength come from the mountains?
No, my strength comes from God
Who made heaven, and earth, and the mountains
Lyrics from "Shoulders" by for KING & COUNTRY
It was the summer of 1969, I was nine-years-old, and my life at the time was very good and I was very, very happy. I had that kind of peaceful happiness where everything was in place. There was nothing missing. I had it all. I didn't think it could get any better than this. I never could have imagined at the time that, in a few short years, my world would come crashing down. But for today, I literally felt like I was on top of the world, and from where I was standing, it sure seemed that way.
My family had taken the Cog Railway to the summit of Mount Washington, New Hampshire. The railway is the world's second steepest with a maximum grade of 37.41%. All I knew back then was that it was super cool, super steep, and went as high as the clouds. Like a roller coaster chugging and clanking its way up towards the sky, we were then standing on the highest peak in the Northeastern United States at 6,288.2 ft. There I am, in the middle picture, standing on the rear of the train car with my parents.
The exhilaration of my mountaintop experience actually began a whole year before, and on an entirely different mountain. While this other mountain was a whole lot smaller, it was no less exciting. It all began with my family's new passion for skiing. The pictures below show what, for me, was the best of both worlds. On the left was my New England colonial-style home in Wellesley, Massachusetts. This is where I had always lived. I'd grown up in that house, and I loved my life there.
The middle picture is from 1968. I'm with my mom and two older brothers, and we're standing where our new vacation condominium will be located. It was on the side of Loon Mountain in Lincoln, New Hampshire. Loon was a new ski area, and we were one of the first to build. The third picture shows how it looked once completed. That's my dad waving to me. There were six units in the building, and we had the one on the far right.
When the condominium was completed in 1969, life wasn't just good—it was great! I headed to the mountains almost every weekend with either my mom, dad, or the whole family. Leaving behind my Boston suburban life for the 2 1/2-hour drive north was like going to a vacation resort. There was mountain hiking, skiing, snowshoeing, and swimming in the river—all the things I couldn't do at home. It also included riding my mini-bike all over everywhere. It was a whole new world made for adventure. If I had to put a label on it, it would say, "Made for Fun."
Despite all the changes, there were some things that wouldn't change. I'd always be the youngest of three boys in our family. This picture to the right is from 1962. From left to right: Tom (7), Betty - my mom, me (2), and Joe (9). I was blessed having grown up with my two older brothers, and we'd all say that we had the best mother in the whole world. I also have a wonderful half-sister, Molly, from my dad's first marriage. Molly lived with her mother in another state, and I only saw her once while growing up.
Two years after this picture was taken, I'd be introduced to two other boys my own age. They would become my best friends. I remember them as far back as my earliest childhood memories will take me. They were foundation memories that have lasted a lifetime. The first picture below is from 1964, when I was just four. I'm sitting on the left next to Barry Finn in our pre-school class. The second picture is from the same year, and it shows me playing with Eddie McHugh in my backyard. I'm the one sitting on the truck.
While Barry and Eddie were my best friends growing up, they were also like family. I loved them too. I probably spent as much time with them as with my own two brothers. For instance, in elementary school, each grade had two classes. It just so happened that year after year, all the way until the sixth grade, Eddie and I always ended up in the same class. We were inseparable friends. This next set of pictures first shows Barry riding my mini-bike with me holding on, while visiting the Loon condominium for the weekend. Eddie also came for a New Hampshire visit, and we're standing together at the top of Cannon Mountain.
A few pictures don't really capture how important my friends were to me and to my early life. The following story has Eddie running for help when I was badly injured. The bandaged head picture was taken soon after. There's no smile for that photo. It hurt!
Eddie and I were playing in his front yard where he had some small trees near the property line. We were climbing and swinging on the branches. I then brilliantly thought it would be fun to hang by my legs and swing like a monkey. I somehow lost my grip, slipped off the branch, and tumbled head first straight down onto a small 1-2-inch-wide stump. It pierced right through my scalp to the bone.
I can still remember, not just being in pain, but all the blood. I vividly recall running to the nearest large tree trunk with my hands covering my head and hiding my face against the tree. I was bawling my eyes out while the blood was gushing all over my face. I guess I didn't want Eddie to see me crying, and I sure didn't know what to do. He saw what happened and immediately ran to get his mother. The only other memory I have from the incident was Eddie's mother trying to stop the bleeding and cleaning me up in her bathroom. I'm pretty sure I didn't apologize for the mess. I have no memory of going to the doctor, the stitches, or anything else. I'll never forget that Eddie was there when I needed him most. I still have the scar on my head to remind me. He was a good friend! I can just imagine that he was probably as scared as I was.
While some memories fade with time, there are others forever etched in the mind and heart that are never forgotten. I still have great memories of my two best friends that will never fade away. Fond memories of a happy and innocent childhood that would all too soon be over. Time would march forward, eventual change would come, and a new chapter written.
When the condominium was completed in 1969, it was the same year I was presented with my Bible from the Wellesley Hills First Congregational Church. I now headed to the mountains almost every weekend, which meant leaving Church and Sunday school behind. At the time, I never considered how this change would someday greatly impact my life. For the next two years, I really thought I had the best of both worlds. Little did I know that one of my worlds would soon come crashing down. The foundation of my life—my world, my home, my friends—was about to crumble to pieces. It happened in 1971 when my dad got a new job. I was then eleven years old and in the sixth grade. Our family would be moving to New Hampshire and into the condominium. The house in Wellesley would be sold. My old life would forever be gone, along with my best friends!
This next photo greatly expresses how I was feeling about the news. It was taken in Blue Hill, Maine, while visiting my grandmother's summer residence. I must have been about five years old at the time. It shows me in fear as I cling to the side of the rock with all my strength, hoping my feet wouldn't slip. I really wanted to have my feet on solid ground—the kind of firm foundation I could safely stand on.
When I got the news about moving to New Hampshire, the foundation of my life wasn't just shaken, it collapsed. One of my "Best of Both Worlds" disappeared, and it just happened to be the best of the two. I was heartbroken, sad, depressed, and angry. The good news is that I would someday find a new foundation. One that would always be there for me. One that could never crumble or be shaken. But first, I had to find it—I had to find Him—and I had to believe!
Isaiah 28:16 - So this is what the Lord GOD says: "See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone, a sure foundation; the one who believes will never be shaken."
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