Let The Sun Shine In Thomas M Parsons

19. Let The Sun Shine In

My brother-in-law, Bill, Pat’s husband, drove to Grand Rapids that December to pick me up and take me home to Lincoln Park for Christmas, since I had no car. My leg was still in its stiff bandage. The doctor had given me crutches, but I could not get the hang of them, so I simply walked stiff-legged.

My car was being repaired. The other driver’s insurance was paying for it, since it was his fault. He was in my lane. But my little Valiant would not be ready to roll until sometime in January, after I got back to school.

So I spent that Christmas with my stiff leg and no car, and soon I was back on campus ready to finish my first semester of seminary and take final exams. And somewhere in there Dr. Smith decided it was time to remove the bandage. Adhesive and three or four weeks worth of hair growth on my leg, well, let’s just say that was not a happy moment for me when he removed the bandage. Ouch!

Then, about the same time as exams, I got my car back. Is it really possible that we sometimes make our own destiny through our fears? Do we sometimes cause things to happen just because we think they might, or because we are afraid they might?

Shortly after I got my car back, I was driving home from classes one winter afternoon on the East Beltline. I had become a little fearful of the place where I had my accident; whenever I passed the spot I would give a little shudder of fear. The thought kept coming into my mind that it could happen again.

But this time I was going south; I had been going north when I had the accident. And I was now past the spot where the accident had occurred. I was south of the interchange with I-96, and on the two-lane portion of the road, approaching the intersection of Fulton Street where I would turn east and head for our apartment.

I felt the right wheels slip off the road onto the snowy shoulder. Why did my wheels slip off the road? Was I following too closely to the right edge of the highway because I was leery of the traffic speeding by in the opposing lane so close to me? Was I momentarily distracted by something? I don’t remember, but my right wheels were definitely not on the concrete road.

Fifty years later, the driver instructor that young driver would become would know the proper technique for getting the wheels back on the road. But the young driver of 1965 did not yet possess such information. Without slowing down, I simply steered sharply to the left to get the wheels back on the road. They came back on the road, alright, but my car darted into the opposing lane of traffic. I didn’t want to be there, so I turned hard to the right, and my little Valiant careened back onto the shoulder and came to rest with its left rear bumper absorbing the shape of the metal pole that held a “Do Not Pass” sign. A second or two after the car came to rest on the shoulder, a huge truck roared by in the opposing lane of traffic.

That night I was not a happy camper. For the second time in a month, my car was damaged. This time it was not as serious, that was true. The car was still driveable. I was not injured. But, man, what a stupid thing to have happen. Why did this have to happen to me? Did the Lord forget that I was here to prepare to serve Him? Did He forget that He was supposed to protect me and watch over me? On and on I went, giving my roommates an earful of complaints and woe-is-me’s. I vowed I would never drive again. The Valiant would just have to sit in the parking lot next door to the apartment forever. It was not going out on the road again.

Finally Frank had enough. He went over to his stereo and put a record on. Soon I was listening to a child’s voice singing a familiar song that I did not particularly want to hear at that time. It was about how Satan caused us to be gloomy and that we had to learn to let the sun shine in.

My apologies to Stuart Hamblin who wrote that little ditty, but, well, it irritated me a little, and I told Frank so. He played the record again. Then he played it a third time. Finally, on the smilers never lose line, a smile started to creep across my face.

I had not really cared for Frank. I didn’t like his smoking, and I didn’t like some of the things he said. But that night with my poor little me attitude, he found a way to cheer me up. I will always be grateful to him for that.

But our time together as roommates was growing short. The school informed us that two apartments on campus would be available for the second semester. A number of freshmen were not coming back, a normal situation for most colleges in January. The school would transfer some students from the apartments back to the dorms, making apartments available for seminary students.

Frank and Joe would share a downstairs apartment, it was decided. Sid and I would share

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an upstairs. But we would have another seminarian with us. Tim, with whom I had become close friends during the first semester, would move in with us. As the second semester began, we were all on campus.

I earned a little money that school year with a student fellowship in speech. I listened to and graded the speeches freshmen gave, but a full-time professor actually taught the class.

But I still had a need to pay the tuition, and I remember a tuition payment was due shortly after I got the job, and I was out of cash with a couple of weeks until my first payday. That is when Mr. No Brain’s insurance man came to my door to offer a settlement.

What did I know about insurance settlements? Not a thing. The insurance man came in and sat down on my hand-me-down couch in the apartment I was sharing with Sid and Tim. They were not home at the time. “Mr. Parsons,” the man said. I was surprised to hear myself addressed that way. In fact, I probably started looking around to see if my father had slipped in unnoticed. “Our client was in the wrong when he hit you last month. He was clearly driving on the wrong side of the road, and so, he is responsible for the accident and the losses you have suffered.” I thought to myself, “Okay, that is all true.”

“Our company is paying for your medical expenses and the expenses of repairing your car. But we also have to make a settlement with you for your time and the inconvenience you have suffered because of our client’s error in judgment that day.”

There was a pause. Then he said, “What amount do you think would be fair?”

He was asking me to name an amount. He was giving me the opportunity to tell him how much I expected to be reimbursed for all the inconveniences of this last month. I could name the amount he would put on the check. A new car maybe? How about my share of the rent for the rest of the semester? Or maybe for all three of us? For the rest of the time we were in seminary? I could ask for anything. After all, my car had not been available to me for about a month. And I was incapacitated with a bad leg over the Christmas holiday. That was about four weeks of time my life was upset because of the client of this insurance company whose agent sat on my worn-out couch with pen in hand to write me a check.

“Name an amount,” he said. So many possibilities. So many amounts I could have asked for. So many things I could have gotten out of that settlement. After all, I deserved every penny I could get.

But only one figure came to mind. The amount I needed for my upcoming tuition payment had been on my mind. I had been wondering how I could pay it. This would do it. This was the way to pay for it.

“Three hundred dollars,” I said.

The man began to scribble out the check. In a matter of less than a minute, the check was written, signed, presented to me, and I was signing a form that probably said I could present no further claim on the company, even though I did not bother to read it. My tuition payment of $300 was covered.

And the man was gone. Papers in his briefcase. Hat on his head. Out the door. The only thing left behind was the check and my copy of the paper I had signed.

I know now I let the insurance company off easy. The man was prepared to write a much bigger check than I asked him to. I know that is why he left so quickly, before I changed my mind or someone came in who could have counseled me to ask for more. He was out of there before this naive kid figured out he had just cheated himself out of several hundred dollars.

But, so what. I got what I needed. The only thing I needed at that time was the tuition payment. I had a job to help pay expenses. My one-third share of the rent was not a significant amount. My car worked. True, it did have its new gash in the rear fender where I had hit the “Do Not Pass” sign, but it worked. My parents didn’t need anything at the time. They had a house nearly payed for, and my dad was still working. I didn’t need anything but that tuition payment. And that is what I now had. It all made sense to me then.

And it still does.