The reverie of my morning shower was broken by the realization that water was swirling around my ankles and getting higher! “Arrgh,” I thought, “I hate a plugged drain.” Before I could think much else, however, I was teleported to a hot and dusty day in Hohenfels, Germany. It was the summer of 1980 and I was a newly-minted Second Lieutenant, having arrived in country barely two months earlier. On this particular day I was tired, sweaty, dirty, and sick, having been afflicted by diarrhea and stomach cramps for most of the previous 24 hours. This was not a good memory.

Alpha Company was in an assembly area and around mid-morning our First Sergeant delivered the news that he had found us a place to bathe. The excitement at the prospect of a shower enlivened everyone, myself included. Third platoon was the last to go, and being the good Platoon Leader that I was I waited until all my soldiers got their turn. As I walked in I was confronted with several inches of dirty brown water swirling around the floor of the shower — it was ankle deep! The constant flow of water and dirt from all those filthy soldiers showering before me had overwhelmed the drain in that little 4-shower facility. This was not a good memory.

(Did I mention the “less than warm” water temperature? This was not a good memory!!)

I finished up quickly, went outside and climbed into the back of the “deuce-and-a-half” for the ride back. Everyone was relatively clean and in a good mood, and in an attempt to keep out the dust we dropped the cargo curtain at the back of the truck. That had the effect of making it like an oven inside and even with the driver going only 10 mph the dust rolling up from the road poured into the back and and was deposited on our now extremely sweaty bodies. By the time we got back nobody was happy and I was dirtier than I started! Did I mention this was not a good memory?!

I made my way over to my tank and managed to crawl up on it before crumpling in a heap on the back deck. I was hot, dirty (again), weak, and sick. I had hopes of some rest but before long the order came down to move out. I dropped down into my position in the cupola, pulled on my CVC helmet, and watched as my platoon of five M60A1’s rolled across the countryside. It wasn’t long before I found myself feeling dizzy and nauseous, but before I could say anything I fainted and fell to the bottom of the turret floor (or so I was told). I woke up on the ground outside the tank and to make a long story short enough for this post — after being evacuated to the field hospital and being immersed in a cold shower to lower my body temperature, the doctor at the hospital told me I was suffering from heat exhaustion, but that I had been “this close” to a heat stroke.

I mention all this to point out the role of memory. Chapter forty-six, verse nine, of the Old Testament book of Isaiah says this: “Remember the former things of old.” Throughout the Bible we read about the importance of memory. But it’s important to note that it’s memory for the future’s sake, not memory to dwell in the past. If my experience of heat exhaustion is just a good story to tell but does nothing to illuminate the future what good is it? For those of us at Clarksdale United Methodist Church if our memories of church are only about “what was” and do not help us see “what could be” they are leading us astray. For others of you reading this the same applies to your situation. Are we more interested in what’s behind us than what’s ahead? Are we more concerned with hanging on to what was rather than reaching for what could be? Are our memories holding us back or moving us forward?

One of my favorite songs is ‘Wonder Could I Live There Anymore’ by Charley Pride. In it he recalls memories of growing up in Mississippi. Tellingly, at the end of each recollection he sings, “it’s nice to think about it, maybe even visit, but I wonder could I live there anymore?”

Me, too, Charley…..me, too!

Peace, Opa

P.S. – We’ll continue thinking about the role of memory in my next post.