"Running Commentary"
Your Very Best Day
Editor’s Note: This being a holiday weekend, Michael is taking a break and will share an old favorite column from his archives. The following was originally published in in the Salina Journal in 2015. Michael is taking a break for another reason – as the new parent of Boulder McGraw, the famous newspaper columnist and rescue puppy, Michael needs all the rest he can get. God bless everyone during these stressful and difficult times in our nation’s history!
Think back. Think about all the good days of your life – days that have special significance. Which one would you say is the best day of your entire life?
Can you think of one special day, significantly better than all others?
It’s a fascinating and thought provoking question.
A man from Southern California injured his back in 1991. Permanently disabled, he spent his afternoons sitting outside on a bench in his neighborhood, watching people come and go.
What struck him as fascinating was the variety of facial expressions people have. Some appeared sad … others, blissfully happy.
Inspired by his observations, Mark Keys came up with a unique idea – a letter writing campaign to celebrities and professional athletes, asking them one deceptively simple question – what has been the best day of their lives?
Keys has written to thousands of famous people and shared some of the responses he received in a 2004 book entitled, “My Best Day.”
One responder to Key’s request was someone I once had dinner with – the late, great Philadelphia Eagles’ Hall Of Fame linebacker Chuck Bednarik. He believed his best day was when his B-24 aircraft touched down safely in Europe after his final bombing mission over Germany in World War II. Upon landing, Bednarik kissed the ground, thankful he survived.
Ever since watching a story about Keys’ project, I began thinking about my own day … the best day of my life. And clearly, each day my three children were born would rank near the top of my list. That’s probably true of most parents.
But there is another day I think about often. Ironically, it would also rank high on my list of the worst days of my life. I’d like to share it with you.
Before my son Jonathan could walk he was able to move about our house in a contraption with a round plastic tray and a donut hole in the middle where Jono sat.
Low-to-the-ground, the cart had wheels and a cloth seat supported with springs, allowing babies to happily bounce and zip from room to room. Remember those little “go carts?” They were later determined to be dangerous, as my wife and I soon discovered.
One weekend day, I had just come up from the basement, and wouldn’t you know, I forgot to close the basement door. Very likely, the only time I forgot. A horrible and fateful error.
Just around the corner, I was walking back toward the basement when I heard a “clunk, clunk, clunk.” My heart stopped cold – I knew immediately what happened.
Looking down into the basement abyss, Jono accidently pushed his cart over the edge and tumbled headfirst down the stairs. He cartwheeled two or three times before hitting his head on the cement floor. I saw Jonathan at the bottom, still strapped into his seat … upside down, two tiny legs sticking straight up.
He was too stunned to cry.
I thought he might be dead.
My wife and I rushed to Children’s Hospital in Philadelphia, one of the leading hospitals in the country. After many anxious minutes, the x-rays came back – everything was normal. Jonathan was fine. No fractured skull. No broken bones. He sustained nothing more than a slight bump on his head from the fall.
He deservedly earned a new nickname that day – Crash Owens.
Afterward, in the hospital’s basement car garage, I held Jonathan tightly in my arms. It was perhaps the most life-affirming moment of my entire life. Standing next to our car, crying uncontrollably, I was unable to let go of my son.
A moment forever frozen in time, punctuated by the gut-wrenching sobs of a relieved father. I couldn’t let go of my baby boy. I couldn’t let go. I don’t think I ever held him so tightly as that day.
44 years later, I can’t even write about that without tears streaking down my face.
It was probably the worst day of my life.
It may also have been the best.
Note: Last week’s columnist, Boulder McGraw, is enjoying his stay in Concordia. He especially enjoys his morning romps though the city park on 11th St. He doesn’t wear a mask, but he IS on a leash. Boulder will return to write another column another day … right now he’s too busy gnawing on Michael’s favorite pair of Nikes. Despite that, the day Michael adopted Boulder McGraw is rapidly moving up the list as one of Michael’s “very best days.” Boulder McGraw is the real deal!