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December 18, 2006
Since my last entry, so much has happened in my life. Healthwise, I'm almost at 100% to the level I was prior to September's health crisis. I sincerely thank each & every one of you who've lifed up prayers on my behalf. God's certainly been merciful to me.
OneLegWonder.Com is no longer for sale. I'd thought about selling it, but decided that it's more like an old friend to me, and whether or not anyone's reading my entries any longer, I thought I'd like to hang on to my old friend for just a while longer.
Tonight, I sat down at the computer, doing a little research, and had a good old-fashioned cry while reading some of what I was researching. I've been thinking quite a bit about just how much my parents mean to me, and what they did for me during my rehabilitative phase. Were it not for their love, concern, caring, and deeds, I couldn't have made it. This is not to belittle or negate the imperative role that Leisa played, but there's something to be said about honoring ones' father and mother. I love my parents, think the world of them, and want to honor them inasmuch as I'm able.
Joni Earickson Tada, who some of you may be famaliar with,is a quadraplegic. She was injured in a 1967 diving accident at the young age of 17. She's persevered through the years, and is still in the game. She's currently operting Joni & Friends (JAF Ministries). I recall, as a young boy, learning about Joni and her accident. I was able to read her book, and watch the subsequent movie that BGM made about her. One of the things that really stuck out forefront in my mind was the relationship that she had with her parents. Both were very loving and supportive of her, much like my parents were of me.
I've often wondered whatever happened to Joni's parents. So, tonight, with bottle of Mt.Dew nearby, I parked it in front of the computer, in search of an answer to my question.. It took some doing, reading page after page, before I finally found out the answer. When I learned that Lindy Eareckson passed away on 8/21/02, I wept as though it were my own mother who'd passed away. The fact that some 4 years had already passed since her death, I was just finding it out, so it was as though it'd just happened I never did find out about her dad, but one can only assume, given the fact that Mrs. Eareckson passed away at age 86, that Mr. Eareckson had already entered eternity. Knowing how that had to've impacted Joni was what hurt me more than anything. Knowing that those who stood by her, gave her the strength and encouragement to move forward were now gone, that had to have been devastating for her. I know that it would be for me. My dad, especially, has played a very vital role in my life in the almost 9 years that've passed since my own accident. I'm very, very fortunate in that I still have both of my parents, and this Christmas Season is going to be just that much more special for me, knowing just how fortunate that I am to still have the honor of having both of my parents on this side of eternity. I never have met any of the Earecksons, including Joni, but I really am sorry to learn that her parents are gone. I know that she'll see them again, as both were Believers, but from the human side, there's still pain associated with the loss of someone so close.
Outside of my relationship with my wife and children, my parents mean more to me than anyone or anything on this planet. Like most children, I have, at some point or another, let them down, shamed them, or done things that they would've rather that I'd not done. But all that aside, I love them with everything within me, and am glad that God chose them to be my parents. They were, and still are, the perfect parents. I did not say that they were/are problem free parents, but they were the perfect parents in that God chose them to be my parents, and God doesn't make any mistakes. They don't have internet access, and likely never will read the words that I leave on this page, so there's no hidden agenda here. I just want you guys to know that I really love my parents, and somehow get you to understand just what they mean to me, and how important that they are in my life.
We here at the Rogers' house consider ourselves to be very blessed during this Christmas season. God has used other people to really bless us, and even though some of those who He used don't know Him, I'd like to say "Thank you" for the things that you've done that've been blessings in our lives. Our desire would be for you to come to know Him as your personal Lord & Saviour, but we're going to continue to love you regardless. You're true friends, and we cherish you.
In my next update, I'll fill you in on some things that've transpired over the last month... But for now, I am cutting this one short and going to bed. It's 3:00am on Monday morning, and I'm wiped out.
Merry CHRISTmas.
Your friend always,
Scott Rogers
Job 13:15
September 18, 2006 Wow, the difference that just a month can make in ones' life. Can you believe Steve "The Crocodile Hunter" Irwin is dead? Man, did I cry when I got that news!!! Even though we don't have television, I still knew who he was, and whenever I was near a t.v., I stole a glance at his show. The man had passion and the ability to stick with it, something most of us lack. I'm going to miss him, but not near as much as his wife and kids are. He left a crocodile-shaped imprint in my heart.
Well, for those who haven't heard by now, the old "One Leg Wonder" has about fizzled out. I was hospitalized on Sept. 12 with what was then believed to be a stroke. I awoke that morning with right-side weakness/numbness, excruciating pain to the left side of my head, and couldn't remember a dang thing. A host of tests were run, and no evidence of a stroke existed. We were dumbfounded as to what the cause could be. Prior to this episode, my blood pressure had always been in the high range ( 170/90, 180/95/ 185/110) - unmedicated, that is. Medicated, I was on the high-end of "normal range". During the time in the hospital, I watched my b/p slowly drop to the point where it was 80/40. I knew that something was wrong, just didn't know what. It was discovered that two of the medications I am taking were interacting and working against one another. I was taken off one of them, and things seemed to level out. Not improve, but leveled out. I'm currently out of the hospital and totally wheelchair dependant. I've regained some strength in the right leg, but the right arm seems to have been affected the worst. I'm unable to use the prosthesis due, largely, to stability issues, and minorly, to extreme phantom pain issues. I'm on some pretty heavy pain meds for that. We don't know how long the wheelchair will be part of my life, but are assuming that it's a long-term "friend". We've begun making modifications and accommodations in order to make our "friend" feel welcome. Workers are currently installing a rather nice wheelchair ramp leading to the house, a lift is being installed on my van, and a new chair has been ordered. Life seems to suck sometimes, but then I remember that I'm still above ground, so it can't be all that bad. If I could just remember things!!! I'm not allowed to leave the house alone anymore because I get lost between my house and wherever it is that I'm supposed to be going. They really don't like me driving, because I tend to sway a tad to the other side of the road, but that's seemed to better itself after a couple of near-misses.
I'm not able to maintain the site or keep in touch via email on a regular basis anymore due to computer problems. But don't let that stop you from writing, as it gives me something to do when I am actually able to get online.
STILL God's,
Scott
August 5, 2006
Hello! I trust that you've been able to stay cool during this hot summer. We are in our 3rd year of drought here in East Tennessee. Here at the Rogers' house, we rely on a cistern for our water, and it's run dry. We've been trucking in water for the last month. We've been praying hard that God would send us a deluge of rain. It's made things a little challenging around here. Down in the flatland, folks can have a well bored for around $3500.00. But here in the mountains, that cost is triple due to the limestone and granite that has to be bored through before water can be located. For us, it's been cheaper to haul water than to have a well bored.
Leisa and I completed our PATH classes, and are awaiting our final home-study so that we can begin adoption proceedings for Jeff. It's going to be a lengthy process.
The Long family are no longer with us. It was good to have had the chance to enjoy their company, but it sure is nice to have our house back.
Richard is really doing well. Thank you for your prayers.. And please keep praying! He's such a tremendous help to me, and I am thankful that God sent him to our home. He's remained sober since being here, and says that he really doesn't have the desire to drink. I think that because we're so remote and there're no liquor stores around, it makes it easier for him to maintain his sobriety. He's currently in the process of building his own place, so he'll be out of our house, yet close enough so we can continue to monitor his progress. I'm really proud of him.
The family is doing good as well. Josiah's still biting, and we're pulling our hair out trying to figure out how to get him to stop torturing his siblings. Ideas??
Y'all drop me a line.. I need the encouragement.
Your friend,
Scott
July 2, 2006
Hello again. There's really not a lot to write about, as there really isn't a lot happening in my life these days. I am planning a 3 day hike starting on July 12 covering the southern half of the Smokies.
My youngest daughter, Casey, turned 12 yesterday. Really hard to believe that my baby girl is almost a teenager. It just doesn't seem right.
Leisa and I are continuing our PATH classes each Tuesday night, nothing's changed concerning that.
Leisa suffered a pretty bad injury to her right eye this past week. She was sitting on a chair in our bedroom, holding Elijah in her lap. He was eating a sucker, when another child attempted to take it from him. He jerked his hand back, and the sucker stick impaled her right eyeball. Thankfully, the damage wasn't as bad as it first seemed. She suffered a scratch to the cornea, and lost some of the fluid that is inside of the eyeball. The corneal scratch should heal up in a week or so, with the eyeball repairing itself within the month. It really could've been a lot worse than it was. God is good.
Tyler, my oldest son (15) recently obtained/earned his learners license (driving permit). Now, you want to talk about feeling old, having your firstborn get his license is a reality check. Where in the world has the time gone???
We still have the "extras" living with us. They're okay people and don't really bother us. However, it is difficult having 2 separate families residing under one roof.
Richard's back in Atlanta, but is coming back for good in September. I'll be so glad when he comes back, as he's a tremendous help to me. I just realized that I haven't told you about Richard... Richard Taylor was a good friend of Bill Lively's. Richard has battled an addiction to alcohol since he was a teenager, and Bill was the only person in the world who cared about Richard. I didn't know Richard then. Well, in 2003 or 2004, Richard was in a housefire and was burned pretty bad. After he recovered, Bill wanted me to take him in, as he had nowhere to go. I agreed, but Richard never came. Bill made me promise that I'd take care of Richard. At Bills' funeral, I told Richard of the promise, and that when he was ready, that we had a place for him. In early July, around the time of the campout, Richard called and wanted to come. He came, stayed a week, got sobered up, and developed a plan of action for the future. Now, with a goal in sight, a future if you will, he returned to finish his job in Atlanta, which is rebuilding the house that burned.. They've been working on that house since it burned, and you'd think they would've already finished it.. Anyway, he's coming back here in September and I'm glad.
In local news, there was a bear attack in Gatlinburg. This one has really ticked me off at the TWRA officials. This guy was taking pictures of a mama bear and her 2 cubs, when his small dog escaped his chalet and chased after the bears. This guy (idiot) went after his dog, and when he saw that the mama bear was about to kill his dog, he KICKED the bear. Well, his foot is no match for a mad mama bear. With one swipe, she ripped open his face and chest. His dog survived the attack. So, TWRA officials decide that mama bear is a threat, and they're going to "euthanize" (KILL) her. They've already kidnapped her cubs and placed them with the Appalachian Bear Center to be raised and released into the wild when they're old enough. I think it's wrong to kill the mama bear simply because she was protecting her cubs. Folks go out in the wild and build a house, then expect the inhabitants of the woods to stay away.. Totally asinine.
I've set up a bulletin board for this site. If you're interested, the url is www.onelegwonder.com/phpBB I'm monitoring it pretty closely, and if you join, keep it clean, or you're out.
Well, I guess I had more to write about than I thought.
Take care & Be God's,
Scott Rogers
June 11, 2006
Today would've been Barry's 41st birthday. While in Milledgeville last week, I stopped by the cemetary to "visit" with him.
The Rogers' home is bustling with activity right now. We currently have 15 people residing under our roof. Vern & Melissa Long and daughter Breana moved in with us a few weeks ago. Vern recently was discharged from the Army, and is in the process of getting back on his feet. We've really enjoyed having them with us.
Hannah's been 'baby sitting' for 2 young children, Thomas (8 months) and Chyenne (21 months). Both children have spent more time in our home than they have in their own home, and are a joy to have around.
My old friend, Tim, is staying with us for a few weeks. He views us as his "cabin in the hills", and comes around when he wants a change of scenary. He's been a tremendous help to me as I try to get things around here organized. In just one day, he cleaned out and organized my garage, which was no small task.
Leisa and I are taking classes on Tuesday nights over in Greeneville, Tn. This Tuesday will be our 4th class. The class is called "PATH", short for "Parents As Tender Healers". This class is normally for couples intending to become foster parents. However, Leisa and I are taking the class in order to adopt a special-needs child named Jeff. Jeff suffers from Waardenburg Syndrome, a genetic birth defect characterized by one brown eye, one blue eye, premature graying of the hair, and congentigal deafness. He also suffers from a mobility disorder.
With a home already bursting at the seams, most folks question our sanity for such a decision. The only explanation that I offer is that I cannot help nor apologize for the size of our hearts. Leisa and I have such a love for people that we can't just sit idly by and do nothing while others are in need. We've dubbed our house the "Faith Home", because it operates on just that: Faith.
Watch for future photo updates as we continue onward with our progress.
Until then:
Be God's!
Scott
May 22, 2006
Hello again. I trust that you're all doing well.
I received an email from my dad this evening regarding my late brother, Barry. When Barry died, he left a suicide note detailing his mounting frustrations with Social Security. Barry suffered from chronic depression, as well as HIV and Hepatitis. He'd been repeatedly turned down by SS, and the waiting game finally proved to be too much for him.
Since that time, my dad has been pursuing the claim/case initiated by Barry. Well, this past Thursday, my dad had his day in court, and came away victorious. It's just a shame that they couldn't have granted the award BEFORE it was too late. I hope it brings some closure for my dad. I'm just glad that he'll be able to recoup the funeral costs which came straight out of his pocket. I think I've said it before, but it bears repeating: I cannot fathom what my dad's been through, and can think of nothing worse in this world than having to bury one of your own children. I pray I am spared that heartache.
Moving on: I'm enrolled at Walter State Community College in Morristown, Tennessee. I'm attempting to get my core classes out of the way so that I can make application to another college in the spring of '07. It's going to end up taking more time for me to reach my goal, but that's perfectly fine with me. I missed out on so many milestones in my children's lives during the 4 months I was in Nashville, and I am really enjoying being able to have an active role in their lives at this point in time. I know that folks think that having 7 children means that you tend to overlook or downplay certain events in the younger children's lives, but watching Josiah as he's learned to do new things is like being a parent for the first time all over again. I wouldn't trade my position for anything in the world. God's blessed me far beyond anything that I deserve.
Leisa & I are hosting a campout here on our property on Friday & Saturday, June 16 & 17. We'd like for you to come if you're able. Should you choose to come, please bear in mind that this is a Christian/Family oriented event, and we're looking forward to the fellowship. We're providing the Friday evening meal. On Saturday morning, bring your favorite cereal, and we'll provide the milk, juice, and utensils (cups, bowls, silverware). Mid-morning on Saturday, we'll depart from my house and go to Cumberland Gap National Park and enjoy a day hike. Won't you come join us? If you're interested in coming, email me at Tes2fy@GMail.Com and I'll give you directions.
That's about it from this end. Until next time:
Be God's,
Scott Rogers
April 30, 2006
Very rarely do I comment publicly about the happenings within the disabled community, but I'm stepping outside of the lines and doing so now. A fellow disabled citizen recently sent me a link to a news article regarding a situation that happened between April 24-26 at the Foothills Mall in Maryville, Tn. To read the story and watch the accompanying news video, click here http://www.wate.com/Global/story.asp?S=4823011&nav=menu7_2_11
I think it's a sad commentary when we live in such a "diverse" (and I really hate that word) society and still have folks out there like the mall management who still hold discriminatory practices. The folks in the news story were service dog trainers who were out training the dogs. I've seen news stories in the past about dog trainers and how they go about training the animals for service, and they are an awesome bunch of folks. While I personally don't use a service animal, I have many close friends who do.
Among them is Bill Irwin, the first blind individual to hike the A.T. back in 1990. In his book, Blind Courage, he related a story about having the owner of a restaurant ask/order him to leave because dogs weren't allowed. When he balked, the owner called the law. When officers arrived, they told the owner that Bill was in the right, as he was blind.
I brought Bill into the topic in order to make a point. Bill hiked with his service dog, Orient. For all intent and purpose, Orient was Bills' eyes. Orient lead Bill around, and kept him safe. Were it not for Orient, Bill wouldn't have been able to even consider hiking the A.T.
The point is, someone had to train Orient to do his job. The trainers, who may or may not be disabled individuals, provide a great service to the disabled community, and should be protected though all of the rights/privelages that are afforded to disabled individuals. And for Foothills Mall, owned by C.B.L. & Associates of Chattanooga, to order them to leave because they weren't 'disabled' is absolutely unacceptable and makes me think twice about doing business there.
Mall management, who declined to be interviewed for the WATE article, provided a written statement disputing the trainers claim that they were asked to leave. I have no doubt in my mind that the trainers were asked to leave. But rather than entering a "did not, did to" childish arguement, just look at the actions and come to your own conclusion. And, if you arrive at the same one as I did, you'll find more welcoming establishments to do business with.
April 27, 2006
I just learned something pretty disturbing, and thought I'd pass along the information to you.
James Surratt is a fellow I attended Gupton College with. He's married, and has a small daughter. On the evening of April 14, his family suffered a fire in their apartment, and lost quite a bit of their stuff. My heart is really going out to James and his family right now, as he's suffered some pretty harsh personal losses in the last couple of months. He recently buried his grandfather, to whom James was very close to.
If you're interested in sending James a card or monetary donation to help his family get back on their feet, here's mailing information: (I'm sure that he, his wife, and their daughter could use some help)
James Surratt
c/o JOHN A. GUPTON COLLEGE
1616 CHURCH STREET
NASHVILLE, TN 37203
Everything around the Rogers' house is somewhat back to normal with my being back home fulltime. My time's been consumed between getting educational affairs in order and going to doctors appointments. I'm having some instability problems with regard to my blood pressure and blood glucose levels. The blood pressure problem is a chronic one, as I was diagnosed several years ago as being hypertensive. However, the glucose problems are new, and have me experiencing a measure of fear.
Went to Nashville last night to speak at the Nashville Chapter of Tennessee Trails Association. I had a great time, and thank them for allowing me the opprotunity to share my story. If you live in the Nashville area, and are a hiker, you owe it to yourself and to the hiking community to join a club and give back a little.
Until next time,
Scott
April 08, 2006
For many of you who're longtime readers, the name Greg Hewlett might ring a bell. Greg (a Texan and fellow amputee) has battled with cancer on and off since his teenage years. He keeps a weblog, to which I subscribe, and recently revealed that his cancer's back, having spread to his lungs. ( http://www.hewletts.org/ )
I've known many people who've battled cancer, but none with the honesty, strength, and faith that Greg has. I know that he's human and has to have his moments, but I've never heard Greg once complain about what he's enduring. A strong believer, Greg knows that either way, he's going to be just fine.
However, I'm one selfish person. I've suffered more than my share of losses over the last couple of years, and I hate to think that I might be losing another friend. But it is nice to know that when I get to Heaven, I'll know some of the folks there.
Now don't get me wrong here, I ain't got Greg all laid out in the parlor just yet. I've got faith that God can heal him, and am praying that God would elect to do just that. I'm also asking that you add him to your prayer lists too. I don't believe in "storming the gates of Heaven", because I think that it just takes one fervent prayer of a righteous man.... But I don't know who's righteous and who's not, so I'll ask y'all to pray anyway.
In other news, I received a pretty interesting email a couple of days ago from someone named Shannon. Shannon's uncle is facing the loss of a leg. Shannon's email was so uplifting to me, as I often wonder if I make a difference to anyone out there. Sometimes I'll sit here composing one of these entries, and wonder if I'm just wasting my time. It's not like I get inundated on a daily basis with emails from folks. In fact, sometimes, it's pretty discouraging, so Shannon's email came just at the right time to lift my spirits.
I guess you've figured out by now that I relate exactly how I feel and when I feel it. Some have said that I wear my emotions on my shirtsleeve, but I'm human... I am who I am, and can't do anything about that. I'm just glad that Jesus still loves me.
I just got back from Georgia. I drove down on Thursday, visited with my dad, then drove over to check in on Ginger Lively, Bill's wife. Tyler and Hannah rode down with me. For me, it was a pretty emotional visit, both with my parents, and with Ginger.
I stayed Thursday night in my grandmother's house. It was pretty stange. My grandmother passed away back in June, and the house is now empty of all of her belongings. My dad's been working on the place, trying to get it in shape to sell. It's very hard for me knowing that it's not going to be staying in the family. During my growing up years, I spent more time there than I did at my own house. My grandfather bought that house in 1951, which means that it's been in the family for 55 years. It's not a fancy home by any stretch of the imagination. It sits on just over an acre of land, right between a state road and a county road. It's not a place that folks passing by would take a second glance at, but for me, it's like an old comfortable pair of shoes. (Okay, maybe not shoes, but a comfortable shoe anyway.) It's going to be very difficult in the future to go "home" and know that it's going to belong to someone else.
On Friday, I drove over to Meansville, where Ginger lives. On the way there, I stopped by the cemetary to "visit Bill". I hadn't been there since we buried him back in August, and I experienced the same emotions that I did on August 25th. It was as though someone had peeled off the proverbial scab, exposing the pain all over again. You'd think that after 8 months I'd be past all of that, but I'm not. I can't even make the drive from Nashville to Washburn (a 4 hour drive) without breaking down and crying part of the way. I can't help it, y'all, I still miss Bill. I'm still waiting for the phonecall that'll never come again.
The visit with Ginger was good. She's going to order his headstone from someone here in Tennessee. When I return to Georgia in June for a nephew's wedding, I'll bring the headstone down with me, and set ("install") it at his gravesite. I think I ought to buy some stock in the Kleenex® corporation.
Well, I guess I've probably written more than enough, so I'll close this out and post it. I hope you're getting along well and that everyone in your life is healthy as well. Take care of yourself and I'll write again soon.
Your friend,
Scott
April 03, 2006
I recently came across a news story that touched me. The Tenessean ran an article about 6 year old Hunter Alexandrow. You can read the story here: http://www.ashlandcitytimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060313/COUNTY09/603130356/1006/NEWS
Hunter's friends established a website where they are asking for money to help out where insurance cuts off. Here's that website: http://www.friendsforhunter.com/index.htm I tell you, if you can look at this and not be emotionally moved/touched, then something's wrong. I'd like to challange you to read his story, then follow your heart. I would love to see the Alexandrow family inundated with help. There's just something about going through something particulary hard, yet knowing that there are complete strangers out there who genuinely, from the heart, actually care for their fellow man. Somehow, perhaps psychologically, it eases the burdens tremendously.
Kids have always had a special place in my heart. I mean, just look at my family, I have 7 of them residing under my roof, and would love to see more come through my door. My dream would be to be in a financial position where I could just write a check and help out families such as the Alexandrows & Millikens, so they wouldn't have anything to be concerned over other than the health and wellbeing of their child.
God bless you all.
Scott
March 26, 2007
Update time!!!!
First off, thanks goes out to Randy Kiser, Mike Cunningham, and Daniel Rudder for getting in touch with me. (Daniel, I tried replying to your email, but received an automated response.)
John Folsom, if you're reading this, would you please get in touch with me? I sent you an email a few days ago, but haven't heard back. I'm just before sending out a search party looking for you.
I have about 15 days of class remaining, then this semester is history. It appears as if I'm going to come out with an overall B average. I'm opting not to return to Gupton College next semester. Instead, I will attend Walter State College in Morristown, Tn. to get my core/basic classes out of the way (can be done in one semester, consisting of 12 hours), the make application to Jefferson State College in Birmingham, Ala. They offer "distance learning", which means that I'll be able to take the same classes I am taking at Gupton online. In short, I will no longer have to live apart from my family; I will be able to do everything from the comfort of my own home... No brainer there... I miss my family very much, and when I hear Elijah (age 3) ask me "Daddy, are you going home now?" each time I prepare to return to Nashville, it just makes the separation that much harder for me. I was speaking with my mom via telephone a couple of nights ago, and she shared with me that Jerrie Densmore had passed away. This name probably means nothing to most of you, but it does mean something to me. Umpteen years ago, I dated Jerrie's daughter, Daphne, who was born with Spina Bifida. Daphne and I were actually engaged, but God had other plans for my life. To the Densmore Family: I realize that it's been 20 years since I've seen any of you, please accept my heartfelt condolances. Jerrie was a sweet lady, and I'm sure that her passing will leave a void in your lives.
Well, you guys take care of yourselves & each other. And, hey, how 'bout dropping me a line every now & then? I ain't hard to reach, and I WILL write back. Tes2fy@GMail.Com
~Scott 'One-Leg' Rogers
March 1, 2006 Well, I am finally able to get in an update here. I doubt anyone's visiting this site anymore, but figured an update couldn't hurt anything. I've now been in school for almost 3 months, and am managing to keep my academic nose above the waterline. Though, I strongly suspect that I will be dropping Restorative Arts very soon, as I am struggling most in that class. I've learned quite a bit in the short time I've been here, and have had more than my share of 'on the job experience'. I now know more about the funeral services industry than I ever thought existed. And, without going into a lot of gory details, I now have received some long-awaited answers to questions I had pertaining to the circumstances surrounding Bill's experience with the inexperienced embalmer who so badly prepared him for his final viewing. I can't correct what was done to him, but now know what to do in the future so that no other families have to endure what we did. The time apart from my family is proving to be extremely difficult at best. I speak to them by phone every day, but it rips my heart out to hear 2-year old Elijah ask me Are you coming over to see me today? It's as though he's grown accustomed to my not being there, and I don't care for that one bit. Coupled with all the other frustrations I've faced, my '90 Pontiac Grand Prix has given up the ghost. So now, I have to wrangle together enough money to purchase another car that'll get be back and forth to school, and back to East Tennessee on weekends. This really stinks, as last month, I had to buy Leisa another van, so there's nothing left in the reserves to cover this unexpected event. Trusting God during times like this is pretty hard, but I know that somehow, He's going to take care of me. I had a job with Woodbine Funeral Home in Nashville, but quit last weekend, due to the fact that it was preventing me from going home to see Leisa and the kids. As of this writing, it's been 2 weeks since I've seen them, and if transportation arrangements cannot be made, it'll be another week before I can see them again. i also now have access to the internet once again, though it is very limited. So, if you so desire, you can email me, and I'll be able to respond. If that is your desire, please direct your emails to: Tes2fy@GMail.com Thank you, and God bless. Scott December 25, 2005
Merry Christmas! I pray that you & yours have an awesome Christmas, and a safe & happy New Year.
Website statistics: (As requested via email by a visitor)
2004: Visitors 22,158 site hits: 2,073,871
2005: Visitors 8,302 site hits: 326,871
Totals: 30,460 2,400,029
December 18, 2005 I am going to call this my "Year In Review" entry.
2005 started out as a pretty good year. While I didn't get to finish 2004 as a 'thru-hiker', the lessons carried over from '04 were ones that I could apply to just about every area of my life. I thought that saying goodbye to my only brother was the hardest thing I would ever have to do, and could think of nothing worse than doing so. Sadly, this would prove to be wrong later in the year. 2004 began with Leisa, the children, and myself staying in the Georgia home of my grandmother, Ruth Rogers, whom we lovingly referred to as 'Mema'. Since 2001, we had been "giving her" our holiday seasons. After all, it isn't every child who still has a great-grandparent around, much less one who was cognizant enough to know who they were and appreciate the relationship. Somewhat slow at age 92, Mema was still, as she put it "kicking, but not very high". I was glad that she'd made it to see another Christmas. I can still hear the delight in her voice when her friend phoned her on Christmas day. I just wish you could see what I'm seeing right now, Mema told her as she watched my children opening their gifts. It delighted her to see joy in the eyes of children. Toward the end of January, we could tell that Mema's age was catching up to her. She forgot things that once were second nature to her. Her level of patience was decreasing, and she talked often of wanting to see her parents and husband again. Leisa and I wanted to remain with her as long as we could, but knew that with Leisa's advancing pregnancy, that we could not remain in Georgia indefinately. So, we returned to our East Tennessee home to await our pending arrival.
Josiah David Rogers was born on April 22, 2005. We were overjoyed to be yet again blessed with a healthy and robust baby. His delivery was trouble-free, despite the fact that on-hand was an assembled team of 5 doctors, all of whom had never experienced the delivery of a 7th Caeserean-Section infant. Upon completion of the delivery, Leisa and I were extended the same cautionary advice we'd heard in 2003, when Elijah was born. Now you know, there's nothing wrong with calling it quits now. You have all of these healthy children, and babies need both their mommies and their daddies to help raise them. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Who's in control here, them or God? In May, I began to allow myself to think about a possible return to the trail. Not to hike it again in its' entirety, but to finish what I had remaining. I broached the subject with Leisa, who said You do need to finish it, that much I agree with. But we've spent our last 2 anniversaries with you hiking a trail, and there won't be a 3rd. So, if you're planning to finish, it'll have to be after our anniversary. So, for the present, I was content with just thinking about hiking again.
In June, my parents phoned to say that they were coming to visit the weekend of the 11th. I was thrilled, as they hadn't been up to see us since we moved to Tennessee in 2001. I was really looking forward to the visit, as I really love my folks. And, since June 11th had special meaning, it meant a lot that they chose that day to visit. Barry would have turned 40 on June 11.
They arrived, planning a 4 day visit. My dad loved my house, but said I still don't see why you had to go off and move so far away from home. I laughed, and said But Daddy, I am home. Their visit was cut short by a telephone call from Madeline, Mema's caregiver. Mema had fallen, and things weren't looking good. They left for Georgia, with promises that they'd call with an update regarding Mema. I had to give them directions for the "quickest route" back to Georgia. Not thinking, I sent them to the interstate, straight through the heart of downtown Atlanta at the height of rush-hour traffic. When they called with the update, my mom got on the line and said We'll never take directions from you ever again. What were you thinking, Scotty? How could you do that to your Daddy? You know he's old and can't drive in heavy interstate traffic, especially with his frequent bathroom stops! Don't look for us to come back that way anytime soon. OOPS! Mema wasn't faring so well. Dad advised that if I wanted to see her alive, that I'd better start heading that way. Casey (my 2nd daughter, and Mema's favorite) and I pointed the car south and headed for Georgia. Mema was still alive when we arrived, and recognized who we were. Casey stood by her bedside and sang "In The Sweet By And By", while Mema had tears streaming down her cheeks. Doctors came in with grim reports; Mema's system was slowly shutting down. She slipped into eternity in the early morning hours on June 22. By this time, Leisa and the rest of the children had joined us. The remainder of the day was spent planning her services, with the wake (family visitation) occuring the following evening. After leaving the funeral home on the 23rd, I looked at my watch and noticed the date. I hollered across the parking-lot to Leisa Happy Anniversary, Honey. We're not on the trail. It later dawned on me that Mema's body was in the same room at the funeral home that Barry had been in 7 months before, and also the same room that her husband was in back in 2000. My mom said that my maternal grandmother was in the same room too. How weird is that? Since we were in the middle of the summer, I decided to put off the completion of my hike until the fall, when the weather was cooler. I decided that I'd aim for the middle-latter part of August. It wouldn't be too hot, and it certainly wouldn't be too cold. In my mind, it's the most beautiful part of the year. Trees are shedding their leaves, and we were entering autumn.
August came. I was busy with preparing my equipment for the final leg of my hike. I decided to take Leisa out to eat for an evening to ourselves. We had a great time. When we came home, Hannah (our oldest daughter) said Something's wrong. Aunt Ginger has been calling trying to reach you. "Aunt Ginger" was the wife of my best friend in the world, Bill Lively. Ginger and Leisa had actually known each other longer than they'd known Bill or I. They'd worked together at Georgia Baptist Children's Home in the early 1980's. Ginger still works there. Prior to moving to Tennessee, our families were intermeshed. Very often, you could find our children at each others' houses at any given time.
Additionally, we experienced numerous parallels in our lives. The Lively's suffered a devastating housefire in 1996, followed by our New Year's Day housefire in 1997. We'd experienced joys and troubles together; birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, etc. We were each other's best friends.
Scotty, Ginger said, There ain't no easy way to say this. Bill's dead. Sitting here at the same desk as I was when I received that news, I can still feel the anger, rage, emptiness and hollowness that I felt then. Sobbing uncontrollably, I could say or do nothing but hand the phone over to Leisa. Through Leisa's conversation with Ginger, I learned that he'd drowned while visiting St.Simons Island with Ginger and their children. The call from Ginger happened on Saturday, August 20. I'd last spoken with Bill the day before, as he was heading south to meet up with Ginger and the kids. I don't really want to go........... I've got so much else that I need to be doing. he'd told me. I later learned that he'd been underwater for less than 10 minutes. Medically, I understood that this meant that he wouldn't appear "bloated" as would happen with a prolonged submersion. Once again, we pointed our vehicle in the ever-famaliar direction of I-75 South, and headed for Georgia for another funeral. Only, this time, Leisa had to drive. Inasmuch as I like to drive, and am not that fond of her driving, I could't see for crying so hard. This is the first time I can ever remembering being so emotionally ripped apart. Bill and I were closer than brothers. The bond we shared was so deep, and so intertwined that it was as though a part of me had died too. Bill was ever-faithful, and was what I can call a true friend. Faithfully, he called us every Friday night to "check in". More than often, he'd call several times a week. I'd stay in his Atlanta home when I was in Georgia, and had already done so several times this year. Since our families were so close, I assisted with the planning. I helped make arrangements, and assisted with casket selection. When the funeral home called to say that "the body" was ready for viewing, I went. Without going into horrific detail, what we encountered, no family should ever have to experience. Words like "horrific", "macabre", and "unacceptable" come to mind. It was evident that the funeral director, who was well into his 70's, should've long ago retired from the business. I have 13+ years of stored memories inside my head of Bill. Yet, when I close my eyes and think of him, that is what I remember.
The services were quite extraordinary. Several years ago, Bill had converted over to Messaniac Judaism, though he'd been a member of a Primitive Baptist Church for a good before that. HIs funeral was held at Ramah Primitive Baptist Church with Rabbi Greg Hershberger officiating. It was utterly an incredible experience. I provided what was the only music by playing "Rank Strangers" and "Jesus Paid it All" on my dulcimer. Rabbi Greg had people stand and share memories of Bill. For an hour, people all over the congregation stood and shared what Bill had meant to them. There were so many people there that people were standing outside the church listening to the service over loudspeakers. I had no clue that Bill knew so many people!
At the conclusion of the service, Rabbi Greg had us sing "Blessed Assurance, Jesus is Mine". After the first stanza and chorus, he stopped us. This time, when you sing the chorus, he said, I want you to sing "This is Bill's story, this is Bill's song. Praising his savior, all the day long. This is Bill's story, this is Bill's song, praising his saviour, all the day long. Not a dry eye after that one. I'll never again be able to sing the chorus the way Fannie Crosby penned it so long ago. To this day, when our church sings that, I still sing it the Rabbi's way. And, I still cry. I went on to finish the hike. After returning to Tennessee, following Bill's funeral, I packed my gear and hit the trail. Other than my immediate family, nobody knew that I was going back to finish. I preferred it that way.
The three weeks I spent finishing the hike were a very emotional time for me. I couldn't help but to think that Barry was supposed to be covering these miles with me. The first Friday night that rolled around, I momentarily forgot that Bill was dead, and I was half-expecting a phonecall that would never again come. I thought of Mema, who'd so comically said that she'd never die if she had to wait until I finished the trail. Well, Mema, I did it. On Wednesday, September 21, 2005, I hobbled into Harpers Ferry, W.V., finishing what I'd set out to do on March 22, 2004: becoming the first above-the-knee amputee to have completed the Appalachian Trail. Funny, it didn't feel at all like I'd expected it to. I don't really know what, if anything, I was expecting. It felt good to have finished what I'd started. But there was also an odd empty and hollow feeling, because those who meant the most to me weren't there to share the experiece with me. A lot of people are wondering What now? There have been a lot of changes since that time. Just as I wanted to have an impact and make a difference in other's lives by hiking the trail, I want to make an equal difference when it comes time for them to have to say goodbye to someone they love. I've thought a lot about the last image I have of Bill, contrasted by the last image of Barry, who shoud have appeared worse than he did. The difference of the mortician's work was very evident as to who cared about their work, and who was just out to make a fast buck. I care enough, even for people I don't even know, to devote the rest of my life to ensure that their loved ones are treated with the same dignity, respect, and care that Bill deserved, but didn't get. Thus, I will enter the year of 2006, apart from my family, while I learn how to become a mortician. The process will take 16 months to complete. I cannot, with all honesty, say that I am hopping in my seat with excitement at the prospect of working with dead bodies. But I can say that I have enough of a desire to help the surviving family move through, and past, a mournful experience. My reward will come in the form of words when I hear a loved one say Now that's how I remember him. There have been a lot of farewell's in my life in 2005. One final farewell is to the world wide web. I've learned, in part from my A.T. experiences, that one can do without a lot of things that tend to mean nothing, yet consume an inordinate amount of time. (For example: I've spent, so far, over 2 hours composing this entry.) The time I spend on the net is time that could be more effeciently and beneficial in other areas of my life, namely, my family. We, as a family, have decided to simplify our lives in some major and drastic ways. We haven't had television in our home for many years now, but some of the things that enter through the WWW are just as bad. It just proves that when you close one door that Satan used to enter your home, that he'll find another way to get in. We've decided to adopt many of the ways of the Amish-Mennonite lifestyle. The simplicity appeals to us.
To that end, I won't have internet access after January 15th. (My ISP is paid up to that date.) I will, however, still have access to email. My new email address will be JScottRogers@Mailstation.com but will not be active until January 15. I will email my journal entires to a trusted friend who will, in turn, post them here. I will also try sending him some photo discs so that he can add photos to the site. Since I won't have internet access, I won't know if he's doing his job, so I'll rely on you for feedback. In closing, I want to thank each and every one of you for your friendship, and wish you all a very Merry CHRISTmas and a Happy New Year. -Scott One-Leg Rogers
December 6, 2005
I can't believe it's been almost a month since my last entry here. So much has happened during that time.
I'll begin by sharing that on the day before Thanksgiving, I received my certificate in the mail from the ATC recognizing me as having completed the Appalachian Trail. I was walking on air (okay, I was hopping on air) for a couple of days afterward.
Then, just a little over a week later, I received a letter from John A.Gupton college accepting me into their program. Again, I was excited. Well, about as excited as one can be over the possibility of working with dead bodies. But still, it's a step in the forward direction.
Our family has undergone some pretty drastic changes since I last wrote. As many of you know, I am a Christian, and try to follow God's leading in my life. For so long now, I've felt a pull toward the ultra-conservative direction. Ok, more than ultra-conservative.... I'm heading toward a "plain lifestyle".....Namely, I'm leaning toward the Mennonite Denomination.
For our extended family, this comes as no real surprise. For pretty close to a decade now, we've been leaning in that direction, but were reluctant to take the plunge. While we aren't running out and joining our nearest Mennonite Church (the closest one to us is 2 hours away), we are gearing our lives to a more simple, back to the basics lifestyle. I've adopted the Mennonite way of dress, eliminating things from my home that have become a hinderance with my walk with God.
That being said, on January 15, 2006, we are officially pulling the plug on our internet connection to the world. This means that I won't have internet access in my home, nor will I be attempting to access the internet through other means. I am quitting cold turkey.
While it's sad in one sense to say goodbye, it really isn't goodbye. There is a service available called "MailStation" which will enable me to send and receive emails, without having to connect to the net. As a result of this handly little gadget, I will be able to email a trusted friend my updates, and he will post them on my website. So, www.onelegwonder.com will continue. You will still be able to read about me and my life.
Should you wish to email me personally and stay in contact, I urge you to send me an email before January 15th to Tes2fy@GMail.com and request that I add you to my new email service. If you choose not to go that route, then you'll still be able to keep up with us through this site. I can't promise that I'll update with regularity, but will try my best to write something every month.
I cannot thank you enough for staying with me for as long as you have. You have been great friends, and I hope to continue the relationships I've developed here.
As it stands right now, I will be leaving for Nashville somewhere around the end of December, and will start classes on January 2nd. I will remain in Nashville during the week, and will return home to East Tennessee on Thursday evenings.
I have 2 upcoming speaking engagements where you can come hear me, if you so desire. The first will be at the Music Road Hotel & Convention Center in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. The event being held there is called the "Wilderness Wildlife Week". It is a great program, and if at all possible, I'd love to see you there. The date of this event is January 8th, and I'll be speaking from 4:00pm - 5:15pm.
The second will be held the following weekend, Jan. 14th at the NOC located in Western North Carolina. I'll be speaking at 9:00pm, and will go until 10:15-10:30.
I trust that you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and that you have an even better CHRISTmas.
Take care, and may God continue to bless each and every one of you.
Scott Rogers
November 07, 2005
Recently, I was having a conversation with someone regarding living life with a disability. They shared a poem/story with me, which was really geared toward parents who are raising a disabled chiled. It's titled "Welcome to Holland". It goes like this:
[I]c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this...... When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting. After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland." "Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy." But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay. The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place. So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts. But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned." And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss. But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.[/I]
This is a good story, but has some flaws. When you think of planning a vacation, whether it's to Holland, Italy, or elsewhere, there's always a planned return to the way things were.
If I were to author the story, I would change it to where your identity was stolen, with no way to regain it, and you inadvertantly arrived on a one-way ticket. The life that you know is no more, and you must learn a new way of doing things, a new language, and basically forget about the life that you once had. No sense in mourning over things that are no more to be. You can either remain in the airport, trying in vain to explain how things are wrong, or you can accept your plight, adapt to it, and move forward.
Today marks the 1 year anniversary of my brother's, Barry, death in Atlanta. I often wonder where he is and what he's thinking. Does he remember us? Is he arguing with the airport attendants that things aren't right, or has he accepted his plight, adapted to it, and moved forward? I long to talk to him, but know that we both arrived at seperate destinations, with no way of contacting one another ever again. I hope that wherever he is, he's okay, and I hope that he knows I'm okay too. I hope he knows how much he meant to me.
Before your loved ones board that proverbial plane for destinations unknown, let them know how you feel. Don't assume that they know what you're going to say....... Say it anyway. You'll never regret it.
-Scott
October 24, 2005
There's not been a lot happening around here in the way of "news". I'm in the process of getting everything ready for college, which I start in January. In preparing, it was discovered that I'd never taken the ACT college test back in the '80's when I was in school. So, this past Saturday, I had the honor, or dishonor depending on how you view it, of taking the test with a group of local highschoolers. I found out that, not only do I lack the knowledge of a highschooler, but that things have changed A LOT since I was in school. If those poor highschoolers understood half of what was on that test, then we're turning out a bunch of Einsteins in today's schools. I think I got my name right, and I'm pretty sure I had the date correct. Anything beyond that is anyone's guess. The folks at the college told me not to worry about the score, I just had to have taken it for admission. My question is, if the score is unimportant, then why do I have to take it in the first place?
There were questions that I didn't even know existed. How am I supposed to know Hitler's grandmother's maiden name? I didn't even realize he was human!
The proctor said that we could write in the test booklet, so I had a heyday. In the margins, I wrote comments like "Now, would you please tell me how this information factors in when changing a baby's poopy diaper? Should I use this information to calculate the baby's body weight versus the mass of waste produced?"
For those who don't know by now, I will be attending the John A.Gupton school of Mortuary Science in Nashville, Tn. I will be renting a room in the home of fellow hiker "Lil Red MG" and her husband. I will stay in Nashville Monday through Friday, and come home to the wife and kids on weekends. It isn't the most desirable arrangement, but it's "only" for 16 months. After which time, I will hopefully be gainfully employed in the funeral industry. I know, it's a morbid profession. I prefer the more tactful term "Human Taxidermist". That doesn't sound so Halloweenish.
The children are all doing good. Josiah (the baby) has really started to develop into a real human being. He's starting to interact with folks around him. He has the most beautiful smile, and gives it so willingly.
Elijah's personality has REALLY emerged in a big way. Leisa, while watching he and I interact, said that she felt as though she were watching an Abbott and Costello routine. He's got to be the most comical kid I've ever met. He'll stuff both feet into one adult shoe, hop around and say "I'm Daddy!"
Jacob is our emotional/loving child. He's very much a people-pleaser.
Caleb, our "unknown child", is still trying to find his place in this large family. He still seems so unsure of himself, so he comes across as being very reserved and observant. This Wednesday, he will get to spend the night off for the first time in his life. He turns 8 this Saturday. It is really hard to believe that he's already 8. He was only 7 months old when I had the accident. He doesn't ever remember me as having 2 legs.
Casey, our youngest daughter, is learning to be a "little mama". She's a great help in the kitchen too.
Hannah, our oldest daughter, is now a teenager. This is extremely hard to digest. She now has an opinion, and doesn't mind sharing it. Tyler, our oldest, is now 14, and very much a great help to me. I often tell him that he's my 'left leg'. Were it not for his help, I wouldn't be able to do half the things I do around here.
I am planning to take some photos of the kids and post them very soon. It's amazing at how much they've all grown since last year.
I guess that's enough rambling for now.
-Scott
October 09, 2005
Hello again:
I've decided to continue using this forum as a way to update you as to what's going on in my life.
Last weekend (Sept.30 - Oct.2) I traveled to Mankato, Minnesota to speak at the Cracked Pots Disabilities Conference hosted by Hope Baptist Church. I can't begin to come close in describing to you what a great time that I had. I always enjoy meeting new people, and this was no exception. While the turnout wasn't what the organizers had hoped for, what we lacked in quantity was more than made up for in quality. I had a wonderful time, and it was an honor to have been asked to take part in such an impacting and powerful event.
In January '06, I will be starting college in Nashville, Tn. at the John A.Gupton College, and am searching for a room to rent in the Nashville area. I don't require a lot of space, and will be traveling back to East Tennessee every weekend. I just need somewhere to sleep and wash clothes. I don't even need food, as I don't eat a lot to start with. If you, or someone you know, has anything available, please let me know. (I'm also seeking part-time employment in the Nashville area in order to pay my rent...)
Dan Vance, the co-author of my book as reported that 6 of the 8 publishers who were sent manuscripts have responded with rejections.
That's about it from this end. Not really much else to report.
-Scott
September 23, 2005
Hello everyone:
September 21, 2005, without fanfare or celebration, I hiked into Harpers Ferry, W.V., ending what I'd set out to do some 18 months earlier. My hike of the A.T. is now complete. The following morning, with clear conscience, I went to the ATC office in H.F. and filled out the paperwork for my "2000 Miler" recognition.
This last leg of the hike was a mixture of both joy and sadness. Joy because I'd accomplished something. Sad because of all of the great personal losses I've endured over the last 10 months. There were some days in there where I hiked with tears streaming down my face. Not because of physical pain, but because the emotional toll was almost too much to bear.
The trail and weather conditions could not possibly have been any better. Not once did I hike through rain, which was awesome comapared to last years' conditions. It wasn't overbearingly hot, nor was it too cold where I froze at night.
Coming home, I veered off course and drove through my favorite spot of the trail, the Blue Ridge Parkway. Seeing places like Peaks of the Otter, Jamestown River, and others gave me that familiar yearning in my heart to return yet again to relive past experiences. I know that I'll absolutely return to those areas to hike them over and over again.
The Appalachian Trail will always be a part of me, and I will always be a part of the Appalachian Trail. What it's given me in terms of self esteem, sense of personal accomplishment, and just showing me that I can achieve the impossible are treasures upon which no price can be placed.
-Scott
September 18, 2005
I started hiking again last week in South-Central Pa. Making the decision to wait until this time of the year has proven to be a wise one, as the weather is very accommodating. The days aren't overly hot, nor are the nights unbearably cold. It's not perfect weather, but it's close! If everything continues to go as smoothly as it has this past week, I'll arrive in Harpers Ferry a couple of days ahead of schedule.
Hiking has given me what I'd hoped for: a time to clear my head and get away from the stress and rigors of everyday life. On the flip side, it's allowed my mind to free up where I'm consumed by thoughts of Barry, Bill, and others I've lost who I had a close relationship with.
On Friday night, I had a long "cry-session", as it was the night when Bill normally called to check on us. I really miss him a lot. He was the best friend I've ever had, and his death has impacted me tremendously. I'm carrying a photo of him, where he was baptised in the River Jordan during a 2004 visit to Israel. The photo is chilling: He's standing in the river with his left arm outstretched toward the heavens, and his right hand over his face, as if experiencing strong emotions. There's no room for doubt as to where he is spending eternity, but I sure do miss him right now.
Ginger, his widow, called before I left, to say that a kid named Andrew, who was their son's, Ben's, best friend, was involved in an ATV accident, and is in intensive care in an Atlanta hospital. He suffered several brain hemmorhages, as well as a concussion. His prognosis isn't known. Ben's certainly had a platefull to manage, having lost his dad, and now possibly losing his best friend.
My time's limited, so I have to go now. I'll write more when I can. Until then, you all take care of yourselves.
-Scott
August 21, 2005
For those of you who've been following along my journey for quite some time, you know that I've endured some heavy personal losses within the last year. While there have been some joys, the last year has been mostly overshadowed with sadness and grief.
Just when things begin to resume some sense of normalcy in my life, tragedy has to strike again in the most heartwrenching way.
Upon returning home yesterday evening, I had a very urgent message to call Ginger Lively, wife of my very best friend, Bill.
Bill and I have been friends for more than a decade. We both suffered housefires within a year of each other, our children grew up together, our families were essentially blended together. And when I say that Bill was a friend, that's not even coming close to defining the friendship that we shared; we were very best friends. I was closer to Bill than I was to any living person, except for my wife.
When my daughter, Casey, was born in 1994, Bill began calling her "Casey-Woman" and referring to his son Casey as "Casey-Man". He did that because our children were always together, and it was often confusing since we both had a child with the same name.
Bill and I spoke on the phone no less than thrice a week, and he always shared with me his latest interpretation of Biblical prophecy. When we met, he and Ginger attended a Primitive Baptist church. Within the last 3-5 years, he'd converted to Messianic Jew, and called himself a "Saturday Christian". The highlight of his life was being able to go to Israel, and was very much looking forward to return there in October.
I last spoke with Bill on Friday, Aug.19th. He told me that he was on his way to St. Simons Island for a weekend jaunt with his family. He said that he really didn't want to go, but knew that if he didn't go, he wouldn't see his family for another week. Bill absolutely loathed the beach. (He lived & worked in Atlanta, while his wife and kids lived in Meansville, Ga. He came home on weekends.)
Bill was such a good friend that, even though he hated to travel long distances, he has visited me, on average, twice a year since I moved to Tennessee. (It was a 7 hour drive for him.) He even spoke of talking his wife into relocating to this area so that our families would once again be close.
Yesterday afternoon, while walking along the beach with his daughter, Sarah, Bill was caught in an undertow and carried out to sea. He was rescued, but was not able to be recussitated. He leaves behind a wife, Ginger, son Ben, age 17, son Casey, 15, daughter Sarah, 13, and a grieving friend, me.
So, I'll be leaving here in a bit, heading once again for Georgia to attend yet another funeral. This is getting to be a little old for me, and I don't think I can handle much more. It's been said that God won't allow you to go through more than you can bear, but I sure hate to be accused of being that strong.
Y'all pray for me like you've never prayed before.
-Scott
August 8, 2005
I'm now back home from my weekend excursion to Virginia.
While hiking through Virginia last year, I had the pleasure of meeting Randy Kiser and his scout group. They "hosted" me while I was in the Bastian/Bland area, and we became fast friends. When I left (last year), they presented me with all the peanut butter a soul could long for, boxes of Little Debbie oatmeal cakes, and quarters for the laundry mat.
Well, this past Friday, I had the honor of camping with them at their annual campout. They have a new "den" of older boys, all of whom were presented with awards. Sean, Keith, and another boy received badges for various accomplishments. It was really neat.
Spending time with folks like Sammy King, David Dalton, and Randy Kiser was more like attending a family reunion than it was a meeting of old friends. This was, undoubtably, one of the best rewards from having hiked last year. I've gained lifelong friends, and I cherish each and every one of them.
After departing on Saturday, Tim, Caleb and I headed north to Stuarts Draft, Va., where Winnie Gap is located. For those who haven't had the opprotunity to visit Winnie Gap, it is no longer located in Stuarts Draft.
Ok, so now you're probaly scratching your head thinking I've never heard of "Winnie Gap..." I'd give a nickel for every one of you who would pull out your old trail maps, dust them off, and look high and low for Winnie Gap....
Winnie Gap is our old motorhome that we'd left, last year, at a friend's business in Stuarts Draft. Having sat for a year with all of our belongings inside, Winnie Gap didn't fare so well. The shelter mice really did a number on the inside.. (Number one, number two...you get the picture.)
Winnie's sitting in our front yard awaiting the skilled hands of the shelter maintainance crew. They'll start cleanup of the shelter immediately following their school lessons tomorrow.
Being back in the central area of Virginia, much to Leisa's chagrin, really stirred my wanderlust for hiking. I drove to exit 99 off of I-64 and pointed my truck south on the Blue Ridge Parkway. First trail crossing I came to, I parked the truck and crutched off onto the trail. (Ouch! Blisters!) It's a good thing I was already planning a 300+ mile hike starting the week of Aug. 21-27. Mentally, there's no place I'd rather be.
(And, Randy, I'll make sure I pick a campsite with enough room for both of our tents, so you can come along...ATD'll give you the time off, just ask!)
I'd like to offer my heartfelt condolances to the family of Jeff Christensen, the 31 year old Rocky Mountain National Park Ranger who was recently found dead after embarking on patrol of the backcountry. I was watching this story with keen interest. And, like everyone else, was praying for the best possbile outcome. I suppose that the discovery of his body will bring some closure to the situation, but it's still saddening nonetheless.
I'm gonna go now so I can get some sleep. Have to cut grass tomorrow, but, mentally, I'll be on the trail.....
-Scott
August 2, 2005
Man, my website is a mess. I had to cut out a lot of stuff that seemingly was misplaced, posts split up and appearing in different places. Where's Barry when you need him? He took care of things for me and knew how to run things around here. Oh well, I got rid of them, and don't know how to get them back. But, hopefully, it doesn't look so bad now.
I've received a fair amount of correspondance lately from folks wondering what I'm up to, what my plans are, etc. and I thought I'd take the time to address some of that.
I've been working a lot, and haven't had much time for the 'net. When I'm not working, then I'm out in the woods. When I'm not working or in the woods, I'm doing things with the family. If I were peanut butter, then the jar's almost empty, and it's being spread very thin.
The most pressing question folks seem to have is "Are you planning to finish the trail?". When I came off the trail in November, I, at that time, said that I doubted that I would finish the trail. However, the trail is something that I have to finish. Not because of some commitment or agreement, but because it's just something that I have to do. I can't leave it unfinished, just hanging there. So, on that note, I am planning a return to the trail in the coming weeks. I'll pick up in Pennsylvania, and hike south to Harpers Ferry. At that point, I will be satisfied within my own heart that my hike of the Appalachian Trail will be complete. (For those wondering, yes, I've now completed the Smokies.) For an interesting note, I will be using Barry's Kelty external frame pack for the last 300 miles. He was supposed to have come out and hiked that last section with me. I wish he were going to be with me and using the pack himself. For the immediate future, I will be visiting with my Scouting friends in Bland, Va. this coming weekend. I'm really looking forward to camping with them and sharing experiences. Immediately following that, I will travel to northern Va. and pick up the motorhome, which I left last year.
The children are all doing well. Josiah has really grown a lot, and I've enjoyed being able to watch him develop and grow.
-Scott
July 15, 2005
Not really anything new going on here. I've been mowing a lot of grass, working from sun up to sun down.
I came across something in the news that has my anger levels boiling over. News stories don't normally cause me to react to the degree that this one has. Here's the story:
By ALLISON SCHLESINGER, Associated Press Writer
PITTSBURGH - A T-ball coach allegedly paid one of his players $25 to hurt an 8-year-old mentally disabled teammate so he wouldn't have to put the boy in the game, police said Friday. Mark R. Downs Jr., 27, of Dunbar, is accused of offering one of his players the money to hit the boy in the head with a baseball, police said. Witnesses told police Downs didn't want the boy to play in the game because of his disability. Police said the boy was hit in the head and in the groin with a baseball just before a game, and didn't play, police said. "The coach was very competitive," state police Trooper Thomas B. Broadwater said. "He wanted to win." Downs has an unpublished telephone number and couldn't immediately be reached for comment Friday. It was unclear whether he had an attorney. He was arrested and arraigned Friday on charges including criminal solicitation to commit aggravated assault and corruption of minors. He was released from jail on an unsecured bond. The alleged assault happened June 27 in North Union Township, about 40 miles southeast of Pittsburgh, authorities said. The boy's mother asked state police to investigate her son's injuries because she suspected Downs wanted to keep the boy off the field, despite a league rule that required each player to participate in three innings a game, Broadwater said. Eric Forsythe, the president of the R.W. Clark Youth Baseball League, said Downs had two daughters on the T-ball team. League organizers investigated accusations against Downs before the T-ball season ended earlier this month but could not prove that he did anything wrong. If Downs is convicted of any crime, he won't be allowed to be a coach next year, Forsythe said. The league is not affiliated with Little League International. June 23, 2005
In 2003, when all of the pre-hike media inundated newspapers all across America, the story made the columns of my hometown newspaper, The Union Recorder of Milledgeville, Georgia.
When I came 'home' to my grandmothers' house during Christmas of 2003, I asked her had she seen the article. Without looking away from her television set, she flatly responded Yep, I seen it.
Well, Mema, what did you think about it? I quizzed her.
You ain't gonna make it she bluntly replied.
How come you say something like that, Mema? I asked.
Because you're missing a leg, in case you haven't noticed she said.
Rising from the couch, I now stood between her and the television. I was commiting the ultimate sin.
Look at me, Mema. Am I missing a leg right now? I was wearing shorts, and my shiny c-leg really stood out.
You know what I'm talking about, she said, Now get out of the way and let me look at the t.v.
Tell you what, Mema I said, You stay alive until next Christmas, and we'll see if I make it or not.
I don't rightly have no say-so as to when I die, that's in the hands of the Good Lord she said.
Countering back, I said Well, when you pray, why don't ask God to let you live until I finish the trail?
I'll never forget her laugh as long as I live. It was almost wicked and sinister.
Laughing, she said If I do that, then I may well never die.
Tomorrow, June 24, we bury my grandmother.
-Scott
P.S. Today is Leisa's and my 15th wedding anniversary.
May 25, 2005
This is usually a tough time of year for me, and this year is no exception.
On this day, 7 years ago, I had an accident that forever changed my life positively and negatively. I remember the day as if it were yesterday, and it causes painful wounds to reopen. The emotional trauma far outweighs the physical, and I pray that one day, I will be able to look back on that day without the accompanying mental anguish.
Positvely, it changed me in so many ways. I used to be the type of person who was self-centered, self-serving, and wouldn't give you the time of day. I am now a totally different person, and if having my leg back meant being the old person I once was, then I prefer to stay the way that I am.
Negatively, well, I won't even go there. I could sit here for hours, and pen down a few thousand words, but that would only deepen the depressed state that I experience on this day. (But life was a lot easier with both legs!!!)
Normally, I tend to hold things inside, not letting others know how I'm feeling. This practice caused a certain media outlet to mis-interpret a journal entry from this same time last year, and they published an erroneous report that I was having a "miserable time" on the trail.
So, how am I feeling? Well, to be honest, I'm wishing there were someplace I could just pay the fine and go home. It's depressing to know that one second of carelessness can sentence one to a lifetime of complications. However, it isn't the end of the world. Life does go on, and it's up to the individual as to how much involvement and enjoyment is obtained. As Morgan Freeman said in the movie Shawshank Redemption "get busy livin', or get busy dyin' ".
I'm going to visit my orthopedic physician on June 1 to discuss options pertaining to the complications I'm experiencing with my knee. Surgery is a very strong possibility, and I'm wanting to explore all options before going that route. Evidently, I damaged it pretty badly during last years' hike, moreso than I realized. As it is now, I cannot get up from a sitting position on the floor without assistance. Some days are worse than others, and I remain thankful for each new day I'm given.
As for the new baby, Josiah, he's doing great. For a time, we were concerned that he wasn't gaining weight. He lost a full pound, and remained there for several weeks. He is now back up to his original birth weight of 8 pounds 4 ounces. We're still waiting for his first smile, and experience joy with each new discovery that he makes.
Leisa is also doing well. She experienced a bout with postpartum depression, but now seems to be doing worlds better.
Tyler and Hannah both enjoyed a week away from the family. Hannah went to Florida, and Tyler went to West Virginia. While I'm glad that they had a good time, I sure am glad to have my family together again. I missed them.
I hope that you are doing well. The webcounter lets me know that you're reading my journal, but it sure would be nice if you'd take the time to drop me an email once in awhile.
Take care,
-Scott
May 14, 2005
I attended the Trail Days festival yesterday, and had a wonderful time. I'd wanted to leave on Thursday evening so I would already be there on Friday morning, but hectic activities around the house prevented that. So instead, I left home Friday morning around 8:00, made a uick Wal-Mart run, and arrived in Damascus around 9:45.
It was like "old home week" around Damascus. I ran into many folks I had the honor of meeting last year on the trail. Party Girl, Powder Finger, Bramble, Puck Finn, Gordy, Mr.T, The Garland 5, Mother Nature & Smokestack, Flash Hand, Sal Paradise, Batch, and many others who I can't recall at the moment. The Garland 5, Flash Hand, Sal Paradise, and Batch are all hiking again this year. Bramble is now walking across the United States. If anyone reading this knows how to contact Puck Finn, please contact me, as I need to contact him ASAP.
I ran into some of last years' sponsors (Leki, Granite Gear, and Etowah Outfitters). It was so good to see them again. I like to describe old friends as a "comfortable pair of hiking boots", and that's precisely what it was like. With new boots, you have a breaking-in period where there's a measure of discomfort. But with comfortable hiking boots, you can be yourself, be comfortable, and have a great time.
I was due to speak at 12:30, so I arrived at the Rock School at 11:30 in order to check out my equipment beforehand. Jeffrey Hunter was to loan me his projector, but was "detained" in Knoxville, and was running behind. Thankfully, Laurie Potteiger of the ATC was presenting, and had a projector, which she loaned me.
The equipment matched up great, and I was ready. The only thing I wished I'd done, but didn't, was to check the volme levels on my laptop prior to starting the programs. It worked out fine, but next time, I'll make sure I check those prior to starting.
I began by showing a 5.5 minute DVD featuring WTVF's coverage of Lane Milliken's story, and my hike. Mike Rose did a wonderful job of putting that together, and it really shows why he's an award-winning videographer.
Following the DVD presentation, I spoke for approximately 40 minutes. I went over in time, but it was okay, as nobody complained.
I ended the presentation by showing the slideshow, which was set to the song God of Wonders by Third Day.
Several people approached me afterward in order to speak with me, take a photo, etc. But one person really warmed my heart. She was walking with one crutch, and shared her story with me. (I really wish I could recall her name.) She related to me how she'd planned to hike last year, but just before she was to leave, she was injured by a drunk driver. She's spent much time rehabilitating from the accident, and told me (paraphrased) I see you, and realize that it can be done. You're the inspiration for me trying again. You just don't know how much statements like that mean to me. It's humbling, honoring, and I'm glad to have a small part in someone elses' life.
After the presentation, I spent the rest of the day walking around and catching up on the lives of friends I made last year.
Around 4-5 in the afternoon, I joined The Garland 5, Mother Nature, and Smokestack at the Gazebo. I was sitting there, eating a hamburger, and just enjoying the time with my friends. Mother Nature and I noticed a boy of about 8 or 9 who was staring at me very intently. (I was wearing shorts, so my leg really stood out, no pun intended.) She tried to coax him into touching my leg. See here, it won't hurt you. she said. With that, she reached over and touched my leg. I went Buzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!!! and she just about jumped out of her skin. It was pretty hilarious.
The boys' name is Malachi (cool name!). He's from a family of 10 children, all home-schooled, and from somewhere in Tennessee. He finally worked up enough courage to talk to me, and he was a likeable young fellow. Mother Nature took a really cute photo of us, which I will share when she sends it to me.
At 6:30, Tamstan, Stomparound, and I met near the basketball courts, and held a hiker feed. Around 40-50 hikers showed up, and had a great time. The event was sponsored by www.christianhikers.com.
Several have asked about my plans regarding the final 300+/- miles I have remaining. I am planning to complete the trail in the autumn, when I can enjoy the hike. Were I to go out and hike now, it wouldn't be an enjoyable time for me, as the summer heat is beginning to bear down with a vengence. I want to hike, not just for the sake of finishing the trail, but because I enjoy it. I wouldn't enjoy it right now. (Though, I have to admit, being at Trail Days really gave me the urge to get back out there on the trail again.)
Happy Birthday today to my son, Jacob, who turns 4.
That's about it for this sitting. Hope you're all well, and thank you for following along.
-Scott
April 22, 2005
I'd like to introduce you to the newest member of our family:
Josiah David Rogers
4-22-05 @ 8:23am (corrected time)
Weight 8 lbs 4 oz
Length 19¾ inches
Mother & baby are doing exceptionally well. They are at Morristown-Hamblen Hosp. in Morristown, Tn., and should get to come home sometime either Monday or Tuesday.
April 14, 2005
Leisa and I have a post office box in the neighboring town of Tazewell. Since it's not our primary mailing address, we don't check it very often at all. In fact, we haven't checked it since December.
On April 12, Leisa checked it, and discovered a package addressed to me. It was from the magazine Blue Ridge Outdoors, postmarked January 16th.
Inside was a December 2004 issue titled "Best of the Outdoors: 2004 Readers' Choice Awards." Page 10 was marked for me to read. Here's the article:
A lot of us like to get out on an isolated hike in search of inspiration. If you were on the Appalachian Trail this year, there's a chance you passed right by it in the form of thru-hiker Scott Rogers. In 1998 the 35-year old father of six from Washburn, Tenn., lost part of his leg due to complications from an accidental gunshot wound, but he didn't let the disability hold him back from his dream of completing the 2,173-mile footpath. In November Rogers became the second amputee to complete the trail.
Rogers started in March from the southern terminus in Georgia and hiked to the mid-point at Harper's Ferry, W,Va., then flip-flopped by driving up to Maine and heading back south. The effort was dedicated to fellow amputee from Rogers' home town, eight year old Lance Milliken.
"I knew how hard it was on me going through it at the age of 29," says Rogers. "I couldn't imagine going through it at eight years old. I wanted to offer him as much encouragement as I could."
Rogers often had to deal with fixing his computer-assisted hydrolic prosthetic leg while out on the trail. But through the rugged ups and downs he took his time and persevered through the extraordinary feat.
You meet so many people on the trail that complain about their knees or feet hurting, but it's not hard to hike the Appalachian Trail," he says. "If you're tired, you just quit hiking and rest. You're not on anybody's time schedule but your own."
-Jedd Ferris
Also enclosed was a certificate of congratulations for being chosen "2004 Southeastern Hiker of the Year". At first, I was feeling pretty good about the award. That feeling, however, was short lived.
Underneath my story was an "honorable mention" for a guy named Lee Barry. Here's what was written about him:
Honorable Mentions
81 year-old Lee Barry of Shelby, N.C., became the oldest person to hike the entire A.T. Barry, who other thru-hikers know as "Easy One", finished the trail for the fifth time in late November.
In my heart, I knew that I couldn't keep the award. It was given under the assumption that I'd completed the trail in November, as was the original plan. However, that plan was altered when Barry died.
So, I set about trying to make things right. First, I called Lee Barry at his home in Shelby, North Carolina. I shared everything with him, and told him that I was going to contact the magazine and turn down the award. He told me that he felt as if I deserved the award, but that he understood the need for me to follow my conscience.
Second thing I did was to post the truth on a couple of websites I frequent ( www.christianhikers.com & www.whiteblaze.net ) I was overwhelmed at the positive responses I received. Everyone felt that I should keep the award. Still, I felt that I needed to try to do the right thing.
So, I emailed the editor of the magazine and explained my dilema to him. I really didn't feel that I should keep an award that wasn't rightfully mine. Here's my email to him, followed by his reply to me:
My name is Scott Rogers, and I received an award from Blue Ridge Outdoors for 2004 Southeastern Hiker of the Year. The award was based on the assumption that I completed the trail in November '04, as was the original plan.
However, I did not complete the trail. I received tragic news on November 7, 2004 that my only brother had commited suicide in Atlanta. At that time, I was in the central Pennsylvania area of the trail, heading toward Harpers Ferry.
Therefore, I am respectfully returning the award, as it isn't rightfully mine. I am ashamed to admit that I honestly considered keeping the award, but personal honesty and integrity wouldn't allow that. I want the record to be set straight, and for the award to be given to someone who honestly met the criteria.
I know it's a little late to be coming forward with this, but I didn't receive news of the award until yesterday, April 12, 2005.
Please accept my most humble apologies, and see to it that the award is given to someone who really earned it.
Very sincerely yours,
Scott "One-Leg" Rogers
His response:
Scott,
Your decision to return home from the trail to help your family deal with
the loss of your brother makes you even more deserving of the award. That
was a heroic, selfless, and courageous decision. Thanks for your thoughtful
email , but please keep the award, as it is definitely well-earned.
Will
So, I'm now back where I started from, still trying to make things right. For me, it is a matter of principle and honesty. I may have been given the award, but I didn't earn it, and don't feel that I should keep it. I've done everything I know of to do in an attempt to get it to the rightful recipient.
Lee "Easy One" Barry, congratulations for being chosen the 2004 Southeastern Hiker of the Year. You deserve it.
Scott "One-Leg" Rogers
April 06, 2005
News updates:
Leisa is scheduled to give birth via C-Section on Friday, April 22, 2005 at 8am EST. The baby, a boy, will be named Josiah David Rogers. (Incidentally, Leisa just celebrated her 41st birthday on April 2)
I am still scheduled to speak at Trail Days in Damascus, Va. on Friday, May 13, 2005 from 12:30pm - 1:15pm at the Rock School Auditorium. Hope to see some of you there.
Jason "Sal Paradise" Penshorn, fellow hiker and friend, starts his '05 A.T. Thruhike attempt on Thursday, April 7, 2005 at Springer Mountain, Georgia. Jason and I hiked together last year during our '04 thru-hike attempts. Jason stopped in Pearisburg, Va. following a severe knee injury. Remember him in your prayers as he slowly makes his way northward. He is re-hiking terrain that he covered last year, so he should fare somewhat better, as he knows what lies ahead.
I'm posting a couple of photos here, and want you to look very carefully and closely at them. My comments will follow at the bottom of the photos.
 
The boy in the left photo is Gabriel Keys. The boy in the right photo is Joshua Heldreth. Now, what would you guess their crime was? Possession of a firearm on school grounds? Vandalism? Truancy? Theft? Murder? Runaways?
No, these young boys, both 10 years of age, were arrested for attempting to bring Terri Schiavo a drink of water just prior to her death. The official charge was "Trespassing". Joshua was quoted as saying "I don't want her to die."
Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.-Proverbs 20:11
Scott 'One-Leg' Rogers
March 31, 2005
This morning at 9:05am EST, Terri Schiavo slipped into eternity following a last minute failed attempt to save her. At 8:55am EST, Terri's parents and brother were told by Michael Schiavo to leave her bedside. They had wanted to be there when she died, and Michael denied them that parental privelage. I cannot imagine having so much hatred in my heart that I would deny my wife's parents the privelage of being at her side when she passed away. Regardless of which side of the fence you find yourself on, for Terri, it's now over.
This has provoked Leisa and I to have living wills drawn up. We checked "Yes" to each of the listed means of life support necessary to sustain our lives. We indicated each other as the ones to make the necessary medical decisions for the other, and my parents as secondary for myself, and her brother, Tony, as secondary for her. God forbid, should we ever find ourselves in the same situation as the Schiavo's and Schindler's, I think that Tony and I have a good enough relationship where we would both want what was best for Leisa, the children, and myself.
I think that society, as a whole, views people like Terri Schiavo, Christopher Reeve, Chris Burke (actor of "Life Goes On"-has downs syndrome), Dana Bowman (amputee skydiver), myself, and others with disabilities as somehow lacking, inferior to so-called 'able-bodied' individuals. I know for a fact that this view is shared by other countries, as disabled people aren't afforded the opprotunities that are availabe here in the United States.
"If it ain't broke, don't fix it"
Last year, while in Maine, I had the unique honor of meeting a 44-year old gentleman named Kenny. Kenny lives with his parents in the small town of Millinocket. Kenny's parents are up in age, and understandably concerned about what will become of Kenny after they die. Kenny's mom somehow thinks that he's broken, and in need of fixing. Her mentality has crossed over into Kenny's train of thought. This past October, they were going to travel south to see Benny Hinn. Kenny said that Benny Hinn was going to heal him. "Heal you of what, Kenny?" I asked him. "To make me normal", answered Kenny. Normal to who? Normal compared to what? If being normal means that I have to adopt the same mentality that others share, that being disabled somehow makes me 'inferior' to others, then please, let me remain abnormal.
Homosexuals are more understood & accepted by society than disabled people are. Other minorities are more understood & accepted. Somehow, we're the broken ones who would be better off sent to the Island of Misfit Toys.
Ironically, I received a letter in the mail today from the Special Olympics. It's the time of year for their fundraising efforts to kick in high gear. I think I am going to mail them a contribution. They set the example that others should follow: that people with disabilities are equally important, and deserve a chance.
Recently, I heard someone share an account of an experience at the Special Olympics. A group of runners were in a race, when one of the kids stumbled and fell. Instead of running onward, the others stopped, went back to aid the fallen runner, linked arms, and all ran together to complete the race. I think we could all learn a lesson from that.
Scott 'One-Leg' Rogers
March 29, 2005
Got some pics from Julie of Lane, and I had to pass them along to you. He's doing so good, and is able to do things that he never would've done prior to his surgery on June 8, 2004. Ain't he something?
The impossible is possible....You're only limited by the limitations that you place upon yourself.
Scott 'One-Leg' Rogers
March 26, 2005
Unless you've been living under a rock for the last few weeks, you've undoubtedly heard about the Terri Schiavo saga that's been unfolding down in Florida. Even in a non-traditional home such as mine, where network/cable television isn't channeled in, I've been able to keep up with what's happening via the Internet. And what I've seen both saddens and deeply troubles me.
The saga of Michael & Terri Schiavo, and Bob & Mary Schindler has touched virtually every American home. Millions of couples have discussed this case between themselves, and have asked each other "What if this were us? What would you do?" Some couples are deeply divided over this issue. Within my own extended family, my sister, Kim, and her husband, Steve, are at odds over this. (And they've had some pretty heated exchanges over it.)
As both husband and father, I try to see both sides, but I admit that as a pro-lifer, I find this a very difficult thing to do. I can't imagine life without my beloved wife, or my precious children, nor would I want to.
In 1998, when my accident happened, Leisa remained steadfast by my side. During the worst times, she signed necessary medical papers, and made decisions that were difficult for her. When the time came for me to be discharged from the hospital, she learned the necessary (and excruciatingly painful) wet-to-dry dressing techniques that had to be done in effort to save my leg. When the decision was made to remove my leg, she was there. When I awoke in recovery, she was there. During the course of that time, I developed a newfound and profound respect for her, and a love that grew deeper. I knew that, come hell or high water, Leisa could be depended on not to fall apart in the face of crisis.
I realize that the Schiavo case and my accident are worlds apart, but the bond that develops between husband and wife is one that should be strong. Leisa and I have had lengthy conversations since the Schiavo case came into the public eye, and we've asked each other the "What if" questions. With Leisa, I would fight with everything within me to keep her alive. She's my life partner, my best friend, and I don't like to think of a future that doesn't include her.
I have a friend down in Milledgeville, Georgia by the name of Joe Thomas. He was associate pastor of First Baptist Church, and we met through the Baldwin County Ministerial Association. During the early 80's, we attended a weekly prayer breakfast together. I recall his mentioning his wife, who had Muscular Sclerosis. Her condition was worsening, and he fervently requested prayer on her behalf. Unknown to me at the time, Joe was struggling to care for his wife at home. The M.S. had incapacitated her to the point where she could no longer walk. In time, her condition would worsen to the point where she could no longer assist in caring for herself. Yet, Joe continued to care for his wife. Only when Joe began to advance in age himself did he reluctantly place her into a nursing home, the same nursing home where my sister, Kim, is a nurse. To this day, Joe makes daily visits to the nursing home to check on his beloved wife, and ensures that she receives the same quality of care that he, himself, had given to her in years prior.
At other side of this same nursing home lies another lady, who I know well. I went to school with her children. For privacy reasons, I will not reveal her name. She has the sweetest demeanor of anyone I know. She, like Mrs.Thomas, suffers from M.S. Unlike Mrs.Thomas, she doesn't have the support of a loving husband. When her condition deteriorated, her husband placed her into a nursing home, turned tail, and ran. He divorced her, saying "God knows, I have needs." To his credit, at least he allowed his wife to live. Her walls are adorned with photos of children and grandchildren, most of whom visit her on a regular basis. When we are in Milledgeville (normally during the Christmas season), we always visit her and sing Christmas Carols for her.
I also know scores of parents with disabled children, all of whom fight defiantly for their children's' lives. I can't think of a single parent who gave up hope, even when all hope was gone. I recently read an account by a father who had to make the difficult decision to pull the plug on his 4 year old son following a drowning. Only after he was ensured that all sings of life were absent did he make the decision. He wrote that "Unlike Mrs.Schiavo, my son was void of any signs of life." I was reminded again at how deep the love is from a parent to a child when I recently watched the movie "Artificial Intelligence". In the movie, a mother had her dead son cryogenically frozen in hopes that medical science would one day find a way of bringing him back whole. Talk about not giving up hope!
Disabled communities everywhere are watching this case very closely, fearing the worst for themselves. I shudder to think of what the ramifications are from the involvement of our judicial system. Millions of disabled people fight on a daily basis just to live, and enjoy life in spite of how hard they have to fight. They realize what so many others seem to take for granted: that life, while short, is a gift. I know of only one disabled person who could care less whether he lives or dies, and that's only because he concentrates so much on what he's lost, rather than what he still has.
I still fail to realize how something as simple as a feeding tube could be considered "life support". Normally, when that term is mentioned, we immediately have visions of the late Christopher Reeve with the ventilator attached to his throat, assisting him with each breath. Yet, even with his quadriplegia and ventilator, he still found value and quality in living.
At the other side of this argument is Michael Schiavo saying that he is only carrying out his wife's wishes. Michael Schiavo obviously didn't take serious the portion of his marriage vows that asked him "Do you covenant to be true to her, to love, cherish, and protect her, in sickness and in health, in poverty or in wealth, until death do you part?" He claims to want what's only best for his wife, yet he couldn't wait for her to die before taking up with another woman and having children with her. To me, his argument is weak. Yet, the courts bought it.
At the core is the way that Terri Schiavo is being allowed to die: starvation. As I sit here taking occasional sips of Mountain Dew, and munching on Mitchum BBQ chips, I can't fathom starving to death here in America. I think this is where most people have a problem. A bullet to the head would be more humane than what they're allowing to happen to Terri. Animals are offered more protection than humans are. Why, even criminals are afforded more protection. There was a case recently where a man murdered a family down in Georgia. He fled, and was surrounded by authorities near Chattanooga, Tn. As they closed in, he took a shotgun and blew his face off. Only, he didn't die. Ambulances rushed him to Erlanger Medical Center, where doctors put him back together (at taxpayer's expense), and now, prosecutors in Georgia are seeking the death penalty against him. Saved him from suicide in order to seek the death penalty against him. Where is the reasoning in that? Someone wrote that "if Terri could somehow, in her last moments of strength, somehow grasp a knife and plunge it into the nearest person, she would have more protection than what she's being offered now." That is a sad indictment upon the society that we find ourselves living in today.
Happy Easter, and remember the Man who gave His life for us.
Scott 'One-Leg' Rogers
March 22, 2005
Today is an anniversary date, of sorts. One year ago on this date, I set foot on the Appalachian Trail with hopes of completing all of the miles within one calander year. As we all now know, I didn't reach that goal. I "only" hiked 1,865 miles.
In some ways, it seems like yesterday, and in another way, it seems a lifetime ago. So much has transpired since that time, both good and bad. Regrets? None to speak of.
Last month, I submitted an application with the National Park Service hoping to obtain a job with them. Today, I learned that I've made the "final cut", which means that my application either will be, or has been forwarded to the department supervisor for consideration. For what it's worth, I scored 100.(Still not sure what that means.)
I've got another bit of good news that I've been sitting on for awhile, but thought I'd better go ahead and spill it so that people can make plans. Trail Days is the annual hiker's gathering in Damascus, Va. From my understanding, it is "THE" hiker gathering, meaning that it's the largest. Traditionally, it's held the weekend following Mother's Day. With that in mind, on Friday, May 13, 2005, I will be speaking at Trail Days. The time is from 12:30pm-1:15pm at the Rock School Auditorium.
This past week, Tyler & I travelled down to Atlanta to meet my folks. They were putting up a memorial cross at the site where Barry died back in November. Atlanta City officials will likely remove it due to some insane ordinance. It really did my heart good to see my parents again. Dad was in Atlanta for a cardioogist appointment at Emory. There was some concern, but by the end of the day, he was given a clean bill of health.
While in Atlanta, Tyler and I had the unique opprotunity to meet a fellow hiker named "Smokey Mountain Steve", who was in Atlanta on business. He recently moved to Healey, Alaska. He showed us some slides from the area. By the time I finished viewing the slides, I was green with envy, as Alaska is a place that I'd really love to visit on a long-term basis. Leisa & children protest, saying that it's too cold, so the majority rules.
Birthdays this week: My dad turned 66 on March 20, and my daughter Hannah becomes a teenager on the 27th.
That's it from this end.
Scott 'One-Leg' Rogers
March 09, 2005
Something happened in the county I live in that has affected just about every home. Something that's commonplace in most larger cities and towns; a murder-suicide. A young man, for reasons unknown, murdered his girlfriend of 9 years; the mother of his 2 children. In his suicide note, he claimed responsibilty for her death, and proclaimed that her remains would never be found.
Volunteers from surrounding counties converged on the Clinch Mountain area in search of her body. Jeff Vandergriff, owner of the Clinch Mountain Winery, joined in on the search. Upon his return home, he suffered a heart attack that claimed his life at the young age of 40. The young lady's body was ultimately found, giving her family some closure to the tragedy.
Now, a community is left to wonder "Why?". A weekly newspaper "Grainger Today" ran a front-page story about the tragedy. Pamela Fass, the author/reporter, made some very poignant statements and asked some thought-provoking questions. I felt the emptiness, she wrote, that feeling of being unwanted, of being in the way, of not fitting in a small world that belonged to someone else......How will they ever get beyond this?, she asked of the survivors, How will they go on?
You can better understand why this particular story hits me so close to home when you recall that just 4 months ago, it was my brother who was found after ending his own life. After reading this news story, the questions began popping into my mind at a much faster rate than I could process them. What could drive a person to make such a permenant decision that would forever change and scar the lives of those left behind? What was so bad that he felt like he had to die? I take small comfort with the knowledge that Barry didn't take anyone else out with him, nor did he leave small children behind to grow up in a world without a mom or dad.
We'll never have the answers to the many questions that often accompany the sudden, senseless loss of a loved one. I guess that in a way, some things are just better off unknown. It sure does make you think about those you still have, and is a reminder to say "I love you" a little more often. You're not given the assurance that you'll have that opprotunity again.
Scott 'One-Leg' Rogers
March 08, 2005
If I had to put a title to this entry, I think I would call it Reflections, because I've been doing a lot of that lately.
I have been thinking about my 2004 hike, what went wrong, and what I learned from it. I guess the most important thing I've learned is that God cares an awful lot about me and my family. I experienced quite a number of instances that most hikers would characterize as "trail magic". I prefer to characterize them as God taking care of me and my family.
If you followed along via my online journal, you'll recall that we had numerous instances of vehicle problems. With each instance we had, God provided for us in ways that we knew it was Him taking care of us. Jaybird, a friend and fellow hiker, was giving the folks over at Whiteblaze.Net an update on us, and wrote OneLeg's wife: Leisa & kids are following close by in their van...although they are having engine probs....again. While we were notorious for our vehicle problems, I am thankful for e |
