Burns Flat or Bust!

Every Friday morning I have breakfast with one of my best friends Dana.  We have our routine down. We go to the same restaurant. We sit at the same table, on the same sides, except of course when someone who doesn’t know the drill beats us to the booth.  The waitress knows what we will drink and she knows exactly what I will order. Just so we are not completely predictable, Dana keeps her guessing by ordering something different nearly every week, but even then, if you were to track what he orders you would find only four or five variations on his breakfast.  Often the waitress can guess what he will order that morning.  We are creatures of habit.

About a year-and-half ago we broke our routine when I brought someone with me, my father.  I knew that my dad, and by default, our family had been stationed at Clinton-Sherman Air Force Base in Oklahoma (AKA Burns Flat).  I also knew that Dana had grown up in Corn, Oklahoma and that the two places were quite close.  Little did I know how close.

As Dana and my father began to talk, I was amaze at how many places they shared in common.  Dana’s dad and mine spent time in the same bar and pool hall.  On Thursday evenings, the bar had a special on calf fries that drew nearly everyone from the surrounding communities.  Our fathers shopped in the same grocery stores, went to the same auto parts stores, and drove the same roads.  My Father worked at a cotton gin part-time to make a few extra bucks.  Dana knew right where it was.  For over an hour I sat there and listened to them talk about all things they shared in common.  When I brought my father to breakfast that morning, I had not expected there to be so much of a connection.

I first heard Dana’s name when I was working with his wife-to-be at a summer day camp.  She was planning their wedding that would take place the next January and could not stop talking about her man.  Dana was working in central California; I had never met him so he was nothing more than a name to me. 

Once they were married, they started attending the young married class at the church where my wife and I attended.  Finally, I could put a face to the name.  We ended up in a small group where we shared the teaching load with a couple of other men.  One thing lead to another and some of those men started going on retreat together twice a year.  We now have been doing this for 25 years.  They are my band of brothers.  Most of them have moved away. 

Dana and I are the only two left in the area.  We have served in ministry together, gone on missions trips together, and started ministries together.  About ten years ago, we started having breakfast once at week to encourage one another and to spur one another on towards love and good deeds.  All of these experiences and time spent have caused Dana to become much more than a friend, he is my brother.

I sat there, listening to my father and brother talk, with great enthusiasm, about the places they both knew so well.  As is listened, it dawned on me that long before I knew Debbie and she talked about Dana, long before we shared teaching duties, went on adventures, and shared life, hearts and passion for God Dana and I could have played on the same playground.  We could have bumped into each other in the isle of a store, or we could have sat there in the bar watching our fathers have a beer and play pool. 

I could not help but think if we could rewind our lives, like in the movie the Sixth Sense, we would be able to look back and discover how our lives were knit together long before we ever imagined. It seemed to me God had written our stories together from the very beginning.

It then it dawned on me, we needed to go back to these places together.  When I mentioned it to Dana, his eyes lit up.  Therefore, in two weeks, we will embark on a journey back to Burns Flat/Corn, Oklahoma.

This is a very significant trip for me.  There are memories of that place that I need to put into perspective.  Currently they are contained in the experience of a three-year-old boy.  I want to bring them into the experience and memory of a grown man. There is also the opportunity to put places, smells and faces to the many stories Dana has shared with me about his childhood. In some ways, it will help to bring a greater sense of reality to the life stories he has told me.  It is kind of like seeing the movie after reading the book.

I imagine we will find ourselves at The Bessie-Y (if it still exists) and play a game of pool.  We will go to the restaurant where Dana started working at the age of nine.   

We will drive a wheat combine during harvest on the farm Dana worked at in high school.   

We will visit the flight line where my dog would chase B-52’s until the base commander called my parents and asked them to come and get the dog.  

We will look into the storm drain where my father lowered me into the darkness to retrieve the toy gun I had dropped into it, and I will stand in front of the house where I built snowmen and take a photo (though in June there will be no snow).  We will go to the house where Dana’s mom lives, and I will meet his mother.

Who knows how many adventures and memories we will recall, and make?  Who know what this trip will heal, or how it will further knit our lives together, creating an even more significant bond than we already share? 

It is worth the journey to find out.  I will be sure to share with you what we discover.