Hey Boo Boo!

My youngest son, Jonathan is getting married Saturday.  Jonathan has always been a Daddy's boy.  When he was born he was a surprise baby.   For years I called Jonathan,  "Boo Boo".  Often said with a "Yogi Bear" voice and thought by many to have a Yogi Bear connection… but his mother and I knew it was really because he was our "boo-boo" baby.   Remember that the next time you hear Yogi say "Hey Boo Boo, how about a picnic basket?" 
 

Jonathan was always concerned about his Dad and has always been my right hand man.   I remember a time when he was about 11 years old.  He kept wanting M&M's candy when we were at the store.  First let me say this was not his favorite, he was always a Butterfinger fan, but for weeks he wanted M&M's every time we were out.   I asked him one day, why the shift from Butterfinger to M&M's and he said "Daddy, Butterfinger is my favorite but I want to win the $Million dollar prize for you.  Daddy you work all the time and I wanted to make it that you didn't have to work so hard."  My heart melted.  

The wrapper from the M&M's that day is one of my most treasured possessions and has been in my Bible for over 12 years.   I'm sentimental that way and hope someday to tell you about paper neckties, a Starbucks' cup, the Hall of Justice model, drawings and other keepsakes that are more precious than gold to me.    

Hey Boo Boo! - thank you for being such a great son and friend.

There's a Little Boy Inside Every Man, Whose Heart Can Easily Be Broken.

Today is my oldest son, Michael's birthday.  It seems like Michael was a grown up before he was in High School.  He was self aware, confident and seemed to be driven by purpose.  He wanted his opinion to count and even as young as eleven years old  he would say, "Dad, you don't respect my life experience or what I've learned." 

When he met his wife, Tabitha, it seemed like everyone around them was caught up in their relationship and encouraged them to start a life together.  Being "Dad," I had to be "Bad Cop" and try to make sure these two young people knew what they were doing.   Why did I do it?  Because I wanted the best for my son and I wanted him to make sure he knew what he wanted.   I didn't want his heart to be broken if things didn't work out.   In the moment I was hated, but years later they thanking me for putting them through the "trial."  Once Michael and Tabitha showed me that they would stick it out no matter what, I stopped the "Bad Cop" routine and welcomed Tabitha into my family. 

Let's jump back a few years.

Since the day the Lion King made its debut, Michael has loved everything about it.   Michael loved the music and the soundtrack is constantly played at our home and in the car.  The business I own, "Mr. Toons" (a store dedicated to the art of sequential storytelling) has promoted and sold thousands of Lion King items.  My family and employees were given a special screening of the movie before it was released, which made it more eventful for Michael.   Michael (as well as Jeremy and Jonathan, my other two sons) are caught up in the Lion King phenomena.

It's March 3, 1995, Disney's The Lion King was released on video today and I'm in Chicago working at one of my stores .  Jonathan, my six year old and youngest son, has spent a few days with me in Chicago, while Michael and Jeremy stayed in Missouri with their mother.   We are still adjusting to our relocation from Chicago, Illinois to  Warrenton, Missouri and operating two retail stores from 350 miles away is overwhelming.   I do all that I need to do at the store and begin packing for my weekend trip home with the family.   Jonathan is so excited because he's at the store when the Lion King is released and thst he helped set up the store displays.  Jonathan has made sure we have a copy of the Lion King video to take home. 

When we get home that night, everyone is excited about getting to watch the Lion King.  Jonathan is bragging because he was at "Mr. Toons" when it was released and he got to hold the video first.  Then without thinking, I say the unimaginable.  I say "Jonathan, the Lion King will always be our special movie."  And in that moment a little boy's heart is broken.   Michael says while crying "But Daddy, Lion King is OUR movie!" and walks out of the room heartbroken.   I didn't mean to imply it the way the way the words came out.   I do my best to try to mend the hurt feelings…but the damage is done.   The words can't be recalled.

Today, I'm proud of the man Michael has become.   We may not always see eye to eye… but I trust he will make the right choices.   In the rough times, I will do my best to be there for him.  No matter how old he gets, I will always be his father, his Dad or Daddy.   My duty to him will not stop until I breath my last breath.   I will fight to help and protect him from all that comes his way and be an example that he can follow.  Hopefully he will learn from my mistakes and will not have to make them himself.   

Be careful with a man's heart.   Even though a man may be strong and confident, there's a little boy inside whose heart can easily be broken.   I know this from experience. 

What to Do When You Don’t Know “What to Do”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing at first…then I was in the middle of it all.

It's July 12, 2011 at 8pm and I'm driving from Saint Louis, Missouri to Arkansas City, Kansas for a speaking engagement.   I see a sudden flash a short distance in front of me, then suddenly a burst of smoke and sparks.  It looks like a truck ran over a car and shot it out under its rear tires.  The car looks like a missile as it is shot off the road …it is happened so quickly that by time I realize what I see, I'm in the midst of falling debris from the car.  I swerve to miss what is in the road, what is still falling, as well as the swerving cars in the lanes next to me. 

I realize I need to stop and help the people in the car.  For a brief moment I think “I’m already late getting where I need to be…someone else will stop to help them.”  Then I realize “What if nobody else had seen where the car had shot off the road?”  Then I think “if this was my family or someone I cared about, I would want someone to help them.”  By time I can safely stop, I’m at least 1/3 of a mile away from where I had seen the car go into the trees.  I grab my cell phone and start running towards where the accident happened.  Cars were still swerving to miss the debris in the road.  I have the fleeting thought, “Someone could hit something in the road and lose control and hit me.”  My concern passes and as I’m running, I call 911 and tell them what I just had just seen and where we are. 

When I get to the skids marks and the noticeable impression that the car made on the grass and bushes, I cannot see the car.  I start down the embankment following the tire tracks…I don’t see the car anywhere.   My mind starts racing … “What can I do? … “What am I going to find when I get to the car?”… “What if the car is on fire?” … “What if they are dead?”  I’m trained in CPR, first aid and some basic medical training; but not for anything like this!

As I continue down the hill the 911 agent tells me to leave my cell phone on, and then  I hear voices and a crying baby.  I don’t know how long it has taken me to stop the car and run the distance that I have.  But by the time that I get to the bottom of the hill, the people in the accident are already out of the car and walking towards me.  I see two young men, one carrying a toddler, a middle aged woman and a young pregnant woman.  The women and baby are crying.  They are cut up and have glass fragments all over them.  The pregnant woman is crying hysterically and is concerned about her unborn baby and the fact that she was driving the car.  

The lady on 911 tells me what to ask the accident victims, and tell them what to do for their safety.  The police arrive and by time I walk back up the hill to them, another 15 to 20 cars and trucks have stopped to help.  I have a feeling of pride for men and women that I see on the roadside that have stopped to help.  The accident victims are taken away in ambulances. I don’t know if the unborn child is okay.  I say a prayer and trust God to help them.  Some of the people that stopped on the roadside are picking up the debris so cars, others are waving cars away from the parked cars.  In a world filled with news about self-centered people hurting others and only thinking of themselves, I see the good side of humanity: people willing to help others.   I don't feel that alone right now.

So what do you do when you don’t know what to do?   You should do the right thing.  If someone is need of your help: you should help them.  Jesus said  “...as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.   Luke 6:31 - English Standard Version

See How Much I Love You...the Baseball Story

I’m 28 years old, and it’s a cool June afternoon in Chicago.  My Dad, my brother, Donnie, my oldest son, Michael and I are on our way to the Cubs game.  I have lived in Wrigleyville, the neighborhood around Wrigley Field all my life.  The Cubs are part of everyday life.  The neighborhood has always been filled with visitor’s parking their cars on the side streets because the park does not have a parking lot.  So every day in front of our house, we see a parade of Cubs fans on their way to the game. 

The neighborhood has changed over the last few years.  After a century of daytime baseball games at Wrigley Field, the park now has lights for night games and the neighborhood has become filled with trendy restaurants and specialty shops.  Entrepreneurs have moved in adding a new upscale culture to the area.  So a few years earlier, I opened a store a few city blocks from the park dedicated to “Sequential Art”…the art of storytelling with sequenced drawings, a.k.a. comic books, comic strips, and cartoons.

A few days earlier, one of my best customers gave me four tickets to a Cubs game, and now three generations of Harrah’s are on our way for a multi-generational outing.  Michael has been excited since the moment I told him I had the tickets.  Today he’s dressed in a Cub’s shirt and cap, and is wearing a small baseball mitt.    Michael is convinced that we are going to catch a foul ball.  Michael has seen a few of my customers come into the store with balls they caught during the game, and is convinced that it is normal to catch a ball every game.  He originally thought we are going to catch a homerun until I explained to him that we were not going to be sitting in the bleachers.  Never the less, he’s convinced we are going to catch a ball.

When we find our seats at the park, I realize immediately that there will not be any foul balls coming our way.  We are directly behind home plate and there is a net that covers the whole area behind the batter.  Michael asks constantly “Daddy, when are you going to catch me a ball?”  Inning after inning pass and I feel so bad my little boy is not going to get the ball that he is convinced he’s going to get.   What’s a Daddy to do?

I noticed during the game that regardless of where the Cubs hit the ball, most of the fans in the area stand up to see where it is going…even the foul balls that hit the net.  Michael asks again, “Daddy, when are you going to catch me a ball.”  I reply, “Honey, you have to wait until it comes our way.” 

Hot Dogs, peanuts and Cracker Jacks, do not distract Michael from his goal.  It’s the 6^th inning and I feel I can’t let his little heart be broken.  I think to myself,”this is all he’s talked about for days.”   I turn to my father and ask “Dad, can you keep an eye on Michael; I need to take care of something.” He agrees and I walk up the steep set of stairs to the walkway and begin looking for the souvenir shop.  I think to myself, “I have to get him a ball so he’s not disappointed.” But a store bought ball is not going to satisfy the smart little boy waiting intensely for a foul ball… and then I devise a scheme.  Yes, a plan to trick him, but I justify my deception with the fact he will be so happy.  Please don’t judge my parenting skills by this ... I’m caught in the moment.  I buy a baseball.  It is white, shinny and has a Cubs logo on it.  I put the ball in my jacket pocket and return to my seat, to wait for the perfect moment to give Michael the ball.   Then suddenly I come up with the perfect idea, “I will wait until the Cubs hit a ball backwards and the fans all stand to see where it goes…then I will spring into action.” 

But as things go with my neighbors,”the Cubs,” inning after inning they don’t hit a single pitch.  I’m in a panic…”What am I going to do” and suddenly during the 8th inning “it” happens.  The ball is hit backwards, we rise with the fans to see where the ball is going and I jump into the air and scream “I’ve got it!” and when I land I’m holding a white, shinny Cubs baseball.   As people start sitting down, I hand the ball to Michael and say “Here you go Buddy!”  Michael shouts “Cool” and when a couple hundred people behind us realize what I did for my little boy…they start clapping and cheering.  Michael says “Dad that was cool!”   Mission accomplished! 

The game ends and we head home.  Michael asks as we’re leaving if we can get a holder to keep the ball in and so I stop and get one for him.  When we get home, Michael tells everybody about his ball.  Matter of fact, the ball is the main topic of conversation for days, until someone asks him “Why didn’t you get it signed by the player?”  Michael looks at me, and I say “Honey, I just didn’t think about it.”  He’s content with my answer and the ball finds a place in his bedroom where it will be a prized possession for year s to come.

Moving forward in time 14 years…

It’s a Sunday Night in October, I’m 42 years old.  I have been asked to speak at Shepherd’s Apostolic Church in Troy, Missouri.  My family is with me and they are all setting on the 2^nd roll of the church. Michael is back from college and is setting with his fiancée, Tabitha.  Michael has become a talented, Godly young man, and I’m dreading the fact that he is leaving the Saint Louis area once he is married.

I begin my message entitled “See How Much I Love You.” The message is about seeing God’s blessings that are all around us all of the time.  During my sermon’s closing, I begin to tell the story about a man and his son’s first baseball game.  I tell the story of Michael’s baseball in third person narrative.  When I come to the end of the story about “Why the ball isn’t signed” I reach down into the pulpit and pick up a baseball…the baseball (I removed it from Michael’s bedroom earlier this afternoon).  I reach into my pocket and pull out a pen and sign the ball:”Michael, See how much I love you, Dad.”  I toss the ball to Michael from the pulpit and turn to the congregation and say “If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?”  Matthew 7:11  

“See How Much I Love You” - Jesus

The Wedding

On Tuesday, June 14th,2011, my son Jonathan proposed to his girlfriend Ashley. My mind is drawn to:

... a wedding.

I'm 19 years old. I have never been on my own and now I'm standing in a small bathroom getting ready for a wedding. My wedding. The thoughts racing through my head include and are not limited to: "What am I doing?"…"My family should be here with me." (more about that another time) … "I can't do this."… "I have to do this" … "so many people have traveled to be here."… "Why isn't Mike here with me? … "Why didn't I just go to Texas with Mike and Marie?" " (more about Mike and Marie in another post) … "Dad and Mom should be here" … "No, I have to do this".. "It will be embarrassing if I back out."

My best friend, Mike and his wife Marie have just moved to Texas to help out at a church there. It was too far to travel back, and Mike couldn't be my Best Man. My buddy from work, Sammy stepped in and filled the job. Sammy is different than most of my friends. Mainly because he does not go to church with me. He is loud, funny and brutally honest for a nineteen year old.

Sammy and I met my first day at work nine months earlier. Our job was simply to count money in a bank vault. A lot of money. Millions of dollars in cash each day. You know those movies when a robber goes into a bank and walks out with $10,000.000 (10 Million Dollars) in small bills in a brief case…well it's impossible! $20,000 (20 Thousand Dollars) in twenties is about the size of 10 DVD cases put together. $1,000,000 in twenties would 50 of those. It would barely fit into the back of a van. Anyway, back to Sam…

Sam's words "Dale, you are nuts for getting married so young!." …"You don't know this woman."…"it's too soon, you just met her"… "Dale, walk with me to the car and we will drive home to Chicago right now." And of course, being afraid of hurting someone's feelings..I ignore Sammy.

I'm excited about all that is going on. I'm dressed in a white tuxedo. I'm tall and skinny and I'm walking across a muddy field to get to the grove in the forest where the wedding is happening. I keep looking back to see if any of my family or friends have shown up. Yes, Sammy's here. Pastor and Mrs. Thacker are here. But I really don't know anyone else. I'm lonely. Sammy says, "Dale let's get out of here!" We stay. The preacher say's beneath his breath to me and my bride during the service "you can get out of this anytime before the vows." I stay. I get married. (More about the wedding…perhaps another day) Photos are taken. People are heading to their cars so they can get to the reception.

I think to myself: "This has nothing to do with me." … "This is all about the bride."…" I'm just fulfilling a role." … "Another guy could be here just as easy to fill this role." (Yes, I said "Guy"…at this point in my life I do not feel like I'm a "man") I'm afraid and uncertain, but I do not regret being here. I'm looking forward to the days, weeks and years ahead with my bride.

What's going on! ...A monster truck has arrived! Me and my bride are going to be driven around town in the back of it. We get in back and wave as drive through town….the driver thinks it's funny to hit every bump and swerve to make us bounce around. My thoughts are on my parents… "Mom and Dad, I'm sorry this happened this way"…I'm lonely …my thoughts are interrupted by the driver bouncing us about. The bouncing cause's my bride's wedding dress's zipper to bust and the dress is coming off at her shoulders. The cars behind us in the parade are honking and laughing. I think to myself…"This will be a great story to tell our kids someday." But in the moment I'm drawn back to the reality…I feel alone.   My friends and family should be here.

Do you ever feel alone when surrounded by people? I know this one thing for sure: No matter how alone I might feel...I have a God that is always present and always caring.   We are never truly alone.

A WORD to Someone Who is Hurting

You are hurt, but you will heal. You will never be the same again, but you will be fine. Embrace this. Take comfort in what your heart tells you. Accept where you are and prepare yourself for the better times ahead.  You will heal.

My Quest to Rediscover the Man that I really Am.

My name is Dale Harrah, actually it is Kermit Dale Harrah.  No, I'm not named after the puppet, Kermit the Frog, but after my uncle.  My parents wanted to name me after my father, whose name is "Dale"  But my Daddy didn't want me to called "Junior."  So I received the first name "Kermit'.  My family calls me "Little Dale" and my friends call me "Dale".  

I'm one of those people that have the type of memory that is very vivid and detailed.   Not like Marilu Henner.   I don't remember the date or the time of events (unless I record them).   When recalling things I can remember minute details and feelings.   I can remember things as far back as when I was 3 years old.  

One of my biggest fears is that I would someday lose this ability and all that I remember would be gone.  So most of my life I have kept a  journal and have recorded things as they happen or when I recall things that do not have a journal entry. 

I'm at a point in my life where major changes have been forced on me.  This in turn has caused me to dig deeper into who I am, and try to re-discover the man that I really am.  This may mean nothing to anyone but me.  But it's therapeutic for me to share this with anyone that might care to read it.