Every Parent's Nightmare

Bobbie was young and beautiful and full of promise. From all appearances, she was the last child who would bring her parents grief.

She was active in her church in O'Donnell, Texas.

At 14, she could claim a long list of social and scholastic achievements: Bobbie was involved in Cheerleading, Band, UIL (University Interscholastic League) Science Fair, One Act Play, and Girl Scouts.

The future seem to be promising and smooth sailing…if she could just navigate the pitfalls of her adolescent years.

But Bobbie had a secret. Perhaps it was the first time,…or the last of many times…but at fourteen she was getting and consuming alcohol from some adult.

Teen drinking is not only illegal, but for Bobbie it would be lethal and she would be responsible for the death of a fourteen-year-old friend, as well as seriously injuring seven others all under the age of 18.

In what can best be described as every parent's worst nightmare,… one boy of unknown age,.. one girl of 13,.. two girls age 14,.. one boy age 15,.. one girl 15,.. one boy 17,.. and one boy age 18 where joy riding in the 2008 Toyota pickup 14 year-old Bobbie was driving Saturday night at 2:30 in the morning. According to Department of Public Safety officials (Texas State Troopers), Bobbie had been drinking prior to driving at a high rate of speed on a road north of O'Donnell. The vehicle hit a ditch, went into a slide, then rolled three and a quarter times, coming to a rest on the passenger side door. Most of the teenagers were riding in the bed of the pickup, none wearing seatbelts or restrains.

As a Texas parent, it would be easy to finger point and blame;

Why were you allowing your 13, 14, 15 year-old age kids out at that time of night?

Why was an under-aged driver at the wheel of that vehicle?

Who gave those minors the alcohol?

Was there no parent who was curious enough to know what their children were doing that late at night?

At the same time, I am the parent of a 17 year old who will do ANYTHING to declare his independence. The "Truth" at our house is often a cat and mouse game between parent and child with God providing evidence and conviction when his mother and I can't be there.

Except for God's grace, my son could have been in the back of that pickup. Some of his friends have been involved in similar stupidity!

I never met Bobbie or any of her companions from that accident. I doubt her family will ever read these words. But as a life spectator and fellow parent, I share their anguish having lost a brother years ago in a roll-over accident before he could graduate high school.

I encourage parents...you are first a parent to your child,...secondly a friend. Don't let their begging wear you down. Want to know where they are going, who they are with, and to call when they change places and plans. That's why you provide them with that cell phone…..NOT FOR TEXT THEIR FRIENDS.

This incident strengthens my resolve to be involved. I will not be put off by the "invasion of my privacy" or "none of your business" argument. Love and parenting makes it my business.

Second, providing alcohol to minors is no joke,.. it is NOT a rite-of-passage we should wink at just because we may have done it. Alcohol and gasoline doesn't mix… especially when combined with raging hormones.

Mothers Against Drunk Driving are an excellent organization, but they haven't done enough. Several years ago, there was legal precedent set in England where pub owners and severs were libel for accidents and crimes their clients committed when intoxicated. If only that kind of legislation were passed in this country. But alas, how many local, state and federal legislators have the backbone for such a stance against the alcohol industry lobby. Most seem afraid their favorite bartenders and saloon owners would go to prison on their behest.

If the person who provided Bobbi with the alcohol was charged and convicted with involuntary manslaughter for this horrific tragedy, it might not bring back Bobby or the 14-year-old girl who died with her, but it would send a powerful message to those cavalier for sharing or selling alcohol to minors.

For the families of those eight youth involved accident north of O'Donnell, Texas, the "whys" and "what did we wrong" are too late.

Two families are mourning. Two crosses will be erected in the roadside ditch to remind others of this tragic accident.

Six young people will carry physical and mental scars of how a night of "just hangin' out" went wrong.

I Was There!

I've had an epiphany this week...No strike by lightning. No big religious conversion. No calls I've won the Texas Lottery or a wealthy great uncle three-times removed has left me millions of dollars in foreign currency.

But it was a moment of conviction which put into perspective of more than a decade of confusion and frustration.

For those of you who know me, . . and to you strangers who happen onto this blog, . . let me fill in the blanks about this bald guy who loves movies, acting, writing, story-telling and making a really good cup of coffee.

I am a cancer survivor: It's been more than a year-and-a-half. All my tests have come back negative. . . But that wasn't my epiphany.

I survived a roll-over accident: In January of this year, everything was thrown from the vehicle but me. . . But that wasn't the epiphany.

I've started new careers, seen moderate success, and had fun along the way: . . .But my epiphany was not found in work success or failure.

I crossed the half-century mark: In the process, I've avoided the mid-life excuses that assault so many men. I'm looking forward to my next decade celebration two years away. I know now what I don't want to do with the rest of my life. . . But my epiphany did not come with the experience of years.

Last night I was driving on the Interstate, listening to the radio, when the random pieces fell into place. The whys, the mystery, the frustration at the silence of Heaven was answered in a moment when my thoughts were on less celestial matters.

In the Bible book of Job, we find a successful, well-off man with a large family, many possessions and several close friends that shared his value system. Today he would have appeared in Fortune 500, GQ, and been the subject of television and news reports on the Rich and Famous. But what made him the target of occult attack was his unwavering commitment to his Creator.

In contrast to the popularity of the American "Name It and Claim It, prosperity" Christianity, Job lost everything except a bitter, cynical wife in a series of catastrophic events. Accused by three of his best friends of being a spiritual fraud with some secret sin in his life, Job experienced his children, property, income, and finally his health taken away. Covered in boils, his loving spouse comes and offers her compassionate advice: "Why don't you curse God and die!"

I am not claiming to be a Job or have experience one-tenth what this man suffered. However I do understand that at the loss of something we hold precious, especially as Christ-followers, there is something going on behind the scenes God has not chosen to enlighten us on. How easy for me to confuse closed doors and windows of opportunity as His disfavor.

After college, I was privileged to pursue occupational choices that fit my giftings. After several years in radio, I moved on to television, developing skills in an atmosphere consistent with my spiritual passions. I've enjoyed on- and off-camera work, at times reaching a national audience. After two decades, I transitioned into independent video writing and production which involved some international travel.

Suddenly, it was over. Like a hard-stop at some busy intersection, the prospects dried up and there were no doors of opportunity open to any of the experiences I had chosen to define myself by. I was frustrated, confused, and angry at God.

Herein lies my epiphany, over 10 years later: One of my travels took me to a tiny village in north of Moscow, Russia . Pictures of a little orphan would result in the adoption of our son Pasha. After 5 years of cultural conflict and absorption, my wife and I took steps to bring another boy into the circle of our family, this time an American-born child.

Pasha, now twenty, and Brian, approaching 15, are opposite in personality as night and day. And, like most parents experience, the two Brantley recruits are different in so many ways to our oldest son Jon, who is 32 and married.

Last night, I realized what a God-orchestrated opportunity I was participating in. I WAS THERE! I had been there to watch and influence my boys negotiation from childhood into puberty and beyond. How many of my peers will look back on the years of their children's passage into adulthood without regrets. I know of no man, in a nursing home or on his deathbed, who wished he had spent more time at the office.

This is not to say that child raising has been all laughs and fun. There are moments when the advice of Mark Twain seems viable:

"When a child reaches 12 you should put him in a barrel and feed him through a knothole. When he reaches 15 you should board up the knothole. And you shouldn't release him until he is at least 21."

Yet within the defiance, anger, tears of reconciliation, discipline, guilt, compromise, blackmail, and intimidation, there are the moments that I will treasure: The school awards despite learning disabilities, the sleepy hugs in the morning, discussions about girls and what made them unique and confusing, the laughter and competition at cards or boardgames, the accomplishment in sports or personal hobbies, thrill of standing with a son on his wedding day watching his marital life-cycle begin, welcoming a daughter-in-law into the family.

AS I SEE IT, there are video tapes which will play in my mind, memories no one can take away. Some may be embellished with the replaying. Some may be edited to only remember the positive words spoken. But no matter how my sons turn out, in God's time and in His will, . . .

I WAS THERE!