I suppose I ought to make a log entry regarding yesterday's decommissioning of the USS Los Angeles (SSN-688). I served on said vessel from 2000 to 2005 and made 3 of her 18 Western Pacific deployments. As you can read here and here, she served her purpose better and longer than anyone expected her to. More applicable to this blog's family, she surfaced just as many times as she dove and never lost her way (well, I do recall a couple of times on watch when RLGN #1 and RLGN #2 were diverging at such rate that I had to shift to Mode II Fix Expansion until we could get to periscope depth and slew both channels to a GPS fix, but I was never really uncertain of our position beyond 1000 yards give or take). So, I would think just like a stubborn work-horse, the LA was usually a pain in my neck, but when the going got tough, I was glad we had her.
I was aboard the LA when the Russian submarine Kursk sank, and I remember how we as a crew, even though "enemies," mourned for them and their families. Not too many people in the world can relate to that feeling. They were fellow submariners, men in our brotherhood, and they had tragically departed for eternal patrol leaving their young wives and children behind. That could have happened to any crew on any submarine, but the LA kept us safe.
And it did happen to another crew on another submarine. We were on one of my three deployments when just a couple hundred miles south of us the USS San Francisco violently ran aground while transiting to Australia. We were in Guam at the time and were told to immediately begin preparing to get underway to assist in rescue/salvage operations in case she couldn't limp her way back home. As a testament to her (and the LA's) engineering, she was able to. I recall sitting on the hood of my rental car parked at the water's edge of the channel in Guam watching her slowly, humbly, work herself up the channel and to the pier where there were ambulances, firetrucks, media, and lots of military brass anxiously awaiting. News helicopters hovered overhead. Three days later at the base chapel was the funeral service for MM2 Ashley, and all the submariners in Guam were invited to attend. What made the SFO tragedy so significant to me was that the contributing factors to the grounding and Ashley's death were navigational errors. Thus the things I did every watch on every day underway became literally matters of life and death. A humbling reminder.
I was also on board the LA, but this time in port at Pearl Harbor, when we received word that just a couple miles south of us near the entrance to Pearl Harbor channel, the USS Greeneville had struck the Ehime Maru, killing 9 Japanese students, teachers, and crew members. Obviously not only was Pearl Harbor abuzz for many days afterwords, but the entire island was caught up in the international tragedy. We were told for the time being not to tell any civilians that we were submariners - to avoid a risk of injury. And the military courthouse where the ensuing investigation took place (and that the entire country was focusing on) was just down the street from us. It was a media mad house!
So, even though a submarine's call is to remain silent and unseen, three of the most well-known submarine tragedies of the past decade all happened in close proximity to me and the rest of the crew of the LA. That's not to say that we never had our own share of difficulties on board, because I can assure you we did, but it does make me thankful that they were never as significant as the ones the media heard about. And in that way I suppose I'm touched to see the Los Angeles decommissioned - she did her time and did it well. She's earned her rest, and I'm thankful to her for keeping me safe. Maybe we'll even drive up to Bremerton sometime and try to see her.
(Lots of "An"s in that title!)
Since we were able to get all the fun stuff out of the way in the previous post, I thought I'd use this post to take care of some administrative things. So feel free to skip over this one and wait for the next post if you so desire! However, if you choose to stick it out...
On December 27th was ZumwaltOhana.com's 4th anniversary! Can you believe it's been that long!? We sure have been blessed to have this journal of our lives over these past 4 years - we probably reference past posts more than any of our readers! It's an awesome way to keep track of important events and remember details that would become forgotten otherwise. In fact, that's even why we started posting KeikiTweets to ZumwaltOhana.com - so we can forever archive memories of Koa and Caspian that might not make the blog and certainly wouldn't be remembered in the long term. So, this blog has become invaluable to us (and hopefully to you) as a living time-capsule of sorts. Now, in the tradition of past ZumwaltOhana.com anniversary posts, here are all the boring statistics that may interest only me:
Thanks again to all The People for making this another great year at ZumwaltOhana.com!
Changing gears, the announcement part of this post refers to Capian's new book that was just published! O Protos Eniautos - The First Year of Caspian Kamalani Zumwalt(that title is supposed to be in koine Greek but TypePad doesn't have that font!) is now ready for your perusal and even purchase if you're interested. This is the same type of book that we made for Koa a couple years back after his 1st birthday, but the book editing program has gone through a couple of upgrades since then, so Caspian's book turned out really nice. We're proud of it and think it's a great way to preserve Caspian's first year in book-form rather than just on this website. You can go look at it (and our other published books) in Blurb's Bookstore. You can also see the pictures we took of our copy in the Our Published Books photo album. Enjoy!
Wow! Has it really been almost a month since our last post!? Where has time gone? Oh yes, I remember:
Way back in May when we were planning our giant summer trip across the country, Kathy and I jokingly said after looking at our schedule that we weren't going to get a break until Christmas standown. Seven months later that turned out to be correct! When I finished my Spring semester last May I took a summer class, then we were on the road for a month, then when we returned I had a couple more weeks of a second summer class I had started during our trip, and then the Fall semester started. So these past 4 weeks during the holidays was the first real break we have taken in close to a year! Perhaps needless to say, we tried our best to (finally!) do nothing for a while - and it was wonderful.
Koa is starting to become old enough to understand all things Christmas, which has made the season fun. Anticipation for Christmas morning; eggnog; Christmas lights (Portland International Raceway & Peacock Lane); Christmas music; Rudolph, Frosty, and Santa movies (and of course Veggie Tale's Christmas movies!) are now standard fair. But more importantly, he's now old enough that we can have somewhat legitimate conversations with him about Jesus, being thankful, and blessing others who have a need. Along those lines we went as a family under bridges downtown and handed out food and coffee to homeless people, and when we could, we gave people standing at the street corners new socks or hand-warmers or ponchos from our car at red lights. In fact, Koa gets upset now when we pass someone without giving them something or asking their name (hard to stop in an intersection when the light is green!). Speaking of blessings, it was amazing to see how many gifts we had under the tree this Christmas. Thanks to everyone for your letters, gifts, and cards - we are very touched by your thoughtfulness and generosity. And we'll be sure to pass those blessings on to others whenever we can.
Since we didn't get any snow during the break and we were itching to get away for a while, we packed up the family and went on a two day trip between Christmas and New Year's Eve to Bend, OR. It was about a 3.5 hour drive which should have been less if it wasn't for the snowy roads going through the Cascades and over Mt. Hood. It was then that we discovered our snow-chains were back home in the garage! Oops! Needless to say, we were thankful for our 4-wheel drive and never ended up needing anything more (though we were sliding around quite a bit). It snowed pretty hard while we were in Bend so our first day there we tried doing whatever sight-seeing we could, whatever walking around the little downtown area that we could, and whatever eating we could! We ate at "Bend's Best Lunch" which was a Thai place and then got some coffee (Eggnog Chai for me!) at "Bend's Best Coffee House" which served Stumptown coffee. Then in the evening it was on to the highlight of the trip for Koa - the hotel swimming pool! This was the first time ever that he wanted to go in the (very cold) water all by himself and we were happy to let him. Brrrr. With his floaties on, he would swim from one end to the other, climb out on the ladder and go around to do it again. We had to teach Caspian about the dangers of running by the pool. Somehow that seemed a little amusing that we had to keep talking to our little 13 month old about running by the pool. He also was very fascinated by the hot tub and would walk/run over to it and make the sign for "bath" and then walk/run back to the pool and just look at it like, "I don't have a sign for that."
Our second day in Bend we set out to do what we went there for - play in the snow! There are a couple sledding hills along the way to the top of Mt. Bachelor (Bend sits at the base of this mountain) which we heard were very good, so after brunch at a great local restaurant we bought ourselves a couple of cheap plastic sleds and a $3 day pass and off we went! Getting up to our sledding spot was tricky without snow-chains, but eventually we made it to Wanoga Snow Park and began suiting up. Since we didn't have any snow clothes of our own, all four of us were either decked out in boots, coats, and pants we borrowed from friends or found a couple days before at a thrift store! Koa had never worn so many clothes at one time in his life and so he acted like he was being eaten alive. In fact, he and Kathy had to sit in the car for a couple minutes and watch Caspian and I sled by ourselves while he calmed down and realized that not playing was worse than being bundled up. Once he finally escaped the car and began playing, he was fine. Caspian looked like Ralphie's little brother Randy who couldn't put his arms down - he could have been going on a deep sea expedition or to the moon and worn a smaller suit! To make a long story short, we all had a blast and ended up sledding for much longer than Kathy and I anticipated. Each time down the hill, Koa would get braver and start from a little higher up. By the end he was going down the hill by himself!
We took a different route on our way home from Bend, this time to the south through Sisters and then Salem, which should have been about an hour longer than the way we took getting to Bend. However, this route through the Cascades was apparently less popular because the roads were much slicker and less plowed. Our drive was long, slow, and tedious until we finally made it to Salem and I-5. We got home late from our great little trip, ate some dinner and put the boys to bed. You can see pictures of our Christmas break in the Christmas 2009 photo album.
So now we come to today - my first day back to school for the Spring semester. This semester I'm taking "Romans" (the next Greek class in which we translate, diagram, and exegete the book in Greek), "Advanced Church Growth," "Christian Theology II", an independent study with one of my professors called "Intercultural Ministry Project", and "Pastoral Internship II." 12 credits which is full-time, but still 4 credits less than a standard load! I think this is going to be a really interesting semester.
Those of you who have knowledge about Alcoholics Anonymous know who Rev. Sam Shoemaker was. For those of you who don't know much about AA or who Dr. Sam was, let me (Zak) give you his brief bio. Sam lived from 1893-1963 and was an Episcopal priest at the Calvary Church in New York City. During his tenure there in the 1920s, Calvary Church became the American Headquarters for the Oxford Group which was a Christian evangelistic movement predominately in Europe and later in the U.S. An alcoholic man named Bill Wilson ("Bill W") attended Oxford Group meetings at Calvary Church and eventually developed a close relationship with Sam Shoemaker. You see, Sam had a huge heart for the "down and out", for those stuggling through the muck and mire of life, for those considered outcasts and beyond reach. In fact, it was Sam who over time encouraged and even helped Bill W create what is now known as the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. Thus in 1955 Bill W gave Rev. Shoemaker the title of "co-founder" of Alcoholics Anonymous.
After Sam Shoemaker's death in 1963, a poem was discovered amongst his personal affects that he had hand-written near the end of his life. At the top of the document was the title Sam had given it, An Apologia for my Life, though today it is more commonly known as I Stand at the Door. Here in its entirety is Sam's apology for his life.
An Apologia for my Life
I stand by the door.
I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out.
The door is the most important door in the world -
it is the door through which men walk when they find God.
There is no use my going way inside and staying there,
when so many are still outside and they, as much as I,
crave to know where the door is.
And all that so many ever find
is only the wall where the door ought to be.
They creep along the wall like blind men,
with outstretched, groping hands,
feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,
yet they never find it.
So I stand by the door.
The most tremendous thing in the world
is for men to find that door - the door to God.
The most important thing that any man can do
is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands
and put it on the latch - the latch that only clicks
and opens to the man's own touch.
Men die outside the door, as starving beggars die
on cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter.
Die for want of what is within their grasp.
They live on the other side of it - live because they have not found it.
Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,
and open it, and walk in, and find Him.
So I stand by the door.
Go in great saints; go all the way in -
go way down into the cavernous cellars,
and way up into the spacious attics.
It is a vast, roomy house, this house where God is.
Go into the deepest of hidden casements,
of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.
Some must inhabit those inner rooms
and know the depths and heights of God,
and call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.
Sometimes I take a deeper look in.
Sometimes venture in a little farther,
but my place seems closer to the opening.
So I stand by the door.
There is another reason why I stand there.
Some people get part way in and become afraid
lest God and the zeal of His house devour them;
for God is so very great and asks all of us.
And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia
and want to get out. 'Let me out!' they cry.
And the people way inside only terrify them more.
Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled.
For the old life, they have seen too much:
one taste of God and nothing but God will do any more.
Somebody must be watching for the frightened
who seek to sneak out just where they came in,
to tell them how much better it is inside.
The people too far in do not see how near these are
to leaving - preoccupied with the wonder of it all.
Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door
but would like to run away. So for them too,
I stand by the door.
I admire the people who go way in.
But I wish they would not forget how it was
before they got in. Then they would be able to help
the people who have not yet even found the door.
Or the people who want to run away again from God.
You can go in too deeply and stay in too long
and forget the people outside the door.
As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,
near enough to God to hear Him and know He is there,
but not so far from men as not to hear them,
and remember they are there too.
Where? Outside the door -
thousands of them. Millions of them.
But - more important for me -
one of them, two of them, ten of them.
Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch.
So I shall stand by the door and wait
for those who seek it.
I had rather be a door-keeper
so I stand by the door.
