hope for the Thresher and its crew. The shock of 129 lives lost was un believable to me. When my mother and brother arrived from Connecti cut at dawn on that morning, I was quietly resigning myself to the fact that Bob was physically gone, and spiritually with our Lord. Later when I saw the official state ment of what had happened, I re called that quiet time I had on the morning of the 10th. In part, the statement read: “ To p e r s onne l aboard Skylark the dive appeared to be progressing satisfactorily until 9:13 a.m. . . . at about 9:16 a.m. Skylark heard a garbled transmis sion which we believed to contain the words ‘test depth.’ ” That was the last message from the Thresher to the escort vessel Skylark. I strongly feel that Wednes day morning when I prayed, Bob too was praying. He must have known danger was imminent. I believe that Bob was praying that the difficulty would be corrected, and that the Thresher would surface. I cannot help but feel that in the same breath he committed everything to the Lord. For those few minutes of quiet com munion, I thank God. A fellow OCU wife, Anna Barry, comforted me with these words: “Death is not the will of God. It has come to us all because o f sin and re bellion in the hearts of man from the beginning. But, though death is a usurper, an enemy, tearing our loved ones from us, it is already a defeat ed enemy. God has conquered death by Jesus Christ, and given us a blessed hope.” Bob was a wonderful husband, and a fine father. The children and I miss his nearness. I had read Little Pilgrim’s Progress to the children recently, and when this sea mishap occurred, I told the children that “Daddy went to heaven, to be with Jesus.” Eric, four, recalled the term used in the story and said, “ No, Daddy went to the celestial city.” Bruce, our five-year-old, repeated the phrase. I nodded and whispered, “ That’s right, Eric and Bruce.” The months have passed, and they have seemed like years. But the Lord has sustained me with His grace. He has taught me through this experi ence to rely on Him alone. I believe He directed Bob into my life, blessed us richly, and now saw fit to call him home to Himself. For all of this and past memories, I praise Him. Truly, all that God plans for us is ultimate ly good, though for the present the experience may be painful. Copyright 1964 Scripture Press Publications, Inc,, Wheaton, Illinois. Used by permission from POWER FOR LIVING, take-home paper for adults •
prayed together, and he quietly went to sleep. Immediately I called a friend of Bob’s who was stationed on the base at the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard. Lt. Dennis Ballow gave me the latest information. There was nothing en couraging, but there was no reason to lose hope. Later that evening when he and his wife came to the house, I knew it was serious. Our pastor had stopped by earlier that evening. Among the Scripture passages shared with me by Pastor Carlyle Saylor, of the Hampton Falls Baptist Church, was Nahum 1:7 — “ The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; and He know- eth them that trust in Him.” I repeated this mentally several times to myself, and leaned heavily on it. He also gave me Isaiah 41:10 — “ Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of My right eousness.” I clung to that verse in the days that followed. A Christian friend, Joy Gulick, spent the night with me. We prayed, listened to news broadcasts, and prayed again. Tears flowed fre quently. Inwardly I knew that I must be able to say without any res ervation, “ Thy will be done, Lord.” I believe I reached this point toward the early morning hours. The last broadcast we heard was at 4 :30 a.m. Exhausted, but still hoping, we slept for a few hours. The next reports we heard gave no
were His will. Then we kissed good bye. I never dreamed of danger, and I am confident Bob did not either. It was just another routine trip, and we expected to have supper together Thursday evening. On every trip Bob made out to sea, we set a specific time when we would remember each other in pray er and read the Word. Bob men tioned 9 p.m. would be best for him because by then all the daily de mands would have eased, so we agreed to pray at 9 in the evening. Tuesday night I remembered him about 9 p.m. Wednesday morning after sending our oldest boy Greg to school and after finishing a few chores, I went upstairs to have my quiet time. The other children were playing. After I was finished I looked at the clock: it was just a few minutes past 9. “ Strange,” I thought to myself, “ Bob and I agreed to remember each other in prayer at 9 o’clock in the evening, not 9 o’clock in the morn ing.” Other than that, I had no un usual feeling. When the captain from the ship yard called me sometime after 7 p.m. that evening and informed me that contact with the Thresher had been lost, I felt no alarm. Bob had told me this had happened before; an electri cal short circuit had caused them to lose communication. All the children were sleeping ex cept Gregory, seven years old. “ Don’t worry, Mommy,” he said, “ they have the Skylark with them, and every thing will be okay.” The Skylark is a submarine r e s c u e vessel. We
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OCTOBER, 1964
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