Sequoia 2011...A 40th Anniversary Climb - To Dad

Rick sits atop the crest

In July of 2010 I emailed dad to tell him of my plans to return the following year to Sequoia National Park in order to climb Silliman Pass and commemorate the 40th anniversary of our infamous climb. Oh, you never heard of it, perhaps not so infamous then:) I asked dad to tackle the hills around Lake Chapala and get himself into shape in order to join me in this adventure. He replied, "Son, I would love to but I won't be able to climb." He continued, "My health is just not good enough. It is one of my fondest memories, and will have to remain that way." (A note, my dad had lived the last thirteen years of his life in Mexico, in Lake Chapala since around 2002. The Lake is the largest in Mexico and sits less than an hour south of Guadalajara.)

Unbeknown, his health was such that he would live only a short five weeks longer from that July email. It was over Labor Day weekend, we had traveled to the Oregon coast to attend our annual Family Camp. Upon our return late Monday afternoon we saw that we had several messages on our answering machine. The first, time stamped Saturday morning, was from dad, saying that he was at Tami's, who was awaiting a surgery on her hip. One of several that she has had since childhood. He said that he loved us and asked that I call him if I'd like. The next five or six messages were with the sound of urgency that I call immediately. By this time I'm thinking that something had gone wrong with Tami's surgery. After several attempts to reach someone I was surprised to discover that the urgency wasn't Tami after all, rather that dad had died sometime Saturday evening while Tami was out on a motorcycle ride. I discovered that they had begun the process to care for his body and that they needed me, the eldest, to know how to proceed. I made immediate plans to head out in the morning, picking up my sister Terrie on the way.

Upper Little Lake

It is now August 2011, we had to make the journey later due to heavy snowfall during the winter. In my journal I write, "So tomorrow as we climb Silliman Pass, dad will be there, at least his ashes. Thanks dad! You gave me something so very special. We made it back!"

Tonight I listen to 'Dad Songs' on my Mp3 player. These are a compilation of songs that are especially meaningful in regards to my relationship with my dad. Three songs in particular connect with me tonight. One, a Brandon Heath song,

A Yellow Mountain Flower

"Give me Your eyes for just one second

Give me Your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me Your love for humanity

Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me Your eyes so I can see"

A second by Newsboys, 'Always'

"Take these pieces thrown away

Put them together from night an' day

Washed by the sun dried by the rain

To be my father in the fatherless day."

And a third, but surely not the last, is by Mark Harris, 'The Line Between The Two'. I place the lyrics in their entirety,

"A beginning and an ending, dates upon a stone

But the moment in the middle is how we will be known

Cause what defines us can be found within a line

Finding reason for our time 

  chorus:

   And the years go by, how they seem to fly

   They'll all be over soon

   When our life is done, did we live and love The way we wanted to

   Cause everyday that we leave behind Goes on to tell the truth

   Of how we lived in the line between the two, The line between the two

Will I walk straight, will I be true

Glow of Sunset

Will I finish strong

Will I stand up for the moment

When I could right a wrong

Because the legacy we leave will never change

It's how we spend our days    chorus

Oh, I could live a life for just myself

Or I could live a life for someone else

But I'll live and die just to hear You say

Well done my son come and be with Me     chorus"

Continuing with the journey...Lord, give me Your eyes. I will be asleep soon, but not before I am able to once again experience The Creators magnificent 'mini lights'...we call them stars.

August 21st, 2011...So much has happened in just two brief days...how can I express it all? Two new friends in Paul and his son Aaron Mullins. A deepened friendship with Phil (Paul's identical twin brother), a friend of mine from Silverton for many years now. Amazing stories and our lives were shared over our brief journey to Silliman Pass and back, including "dialog" regarding "the full knowledge of Christ". What does it mean to live like and for Christ? Also, the PRICE He paid and we live.

God's Amphitheater

In the early morning, I awoke before the others and headed out on short adventures... Saturday, to view Twin Lakes, Twin Peaks, Silliman Crest and Silliman Pass, all from a distance. Also, to read and ponder once again Romans chapter eight. The Spirit 'super-interceded'. Wow! But, I'm still confounded about all that this means. Then a Sunday am venture south to an area above our campsites. There, I was able to discover 'God's amphitheater'. Oh baby!

Team of Aaron, Phil, Paul & Rick

After the Saturday morning jaunt, the four of us begin our ascent to 'the goal'...Silliman Pass. What an incredible view from the crest, and what a memorial as we spread dad's ashes between Twin Peaks while standing directly on the Pass. AGAIN, THANKS DAD! You first gave this experience to me. One day I hope to spread his remaining ashes in Red Oak, Iowa (his birthplace and childhood home) and also his last and ultimate home, Lago de Chapala.

Paul's Alpenglow ©

Saturday evening, I watch as Paul (a professional photographer, of whom Aaron had carried his camera and tripod all the way to our campsite), took pictures around Upper Little Lake with the granite wall and alpenglow as his backdrop. From my tiny 'point and shoot' the scene is simply God inspiring, I can't wait to again experience this spectacular view and memory from someone with 'the gift'.

Now, the rest of the story. The climb was completed, the memory forever etched. One of a half dozen memories that I am left with of my relationship with the man, Richard Ray Williams, of whom was my father. One day I will go into further detail of the life of ours, suffice it to say, he was not the father that little boys dream of. Yet, with that said, 'Silliman Pass' is one of those memories of which I am forever grateful.

So there you have it, a thirteen year old boys return as a fifty-three year old man to one of his most cherished memories.