The Importance of Red Chair Friends
I began writing this “How to Survive a Tornado Series,” to share a few lessons I learned in the days, months, and years following the destruction of our home. The physical and outward damage was the least of what we were dealing with during that time. We were already in a very dark season trying to navigate through many of the things I discussed in the previous articles. In those, I only scratched the surface to give a glimpse of what was going on the months prior to the tornado. The tornado should have been the nail in the coffin, but instead became the catalyst for reclaiming our marriage, family, leadership, and vision for reaching and serving others. It has taken years to process, heal, and rebuild from that season of life. Today, without hesitation, I can say that I am grateful for that season and the blessings that have and still will come through not throwing in the towel.
Thank you for reading. If you are just joining us, then please go back and start here:
The Red Chair Friends
I’m sure that you have friends and hopefully you even have good friends. But do you have red chair friends? Jeff and Erin are what I refer to (post-tornado) as red chair friends. The first time we invited their family over I grilled steak for them. In my opinion, humble opinion of course, an individual should consider it quite an honor if I grill for you. Most who know me, know that I really enjoy cooking and my favorite place to be is in front of the grill. Like the firepit, it is one of the places that I can really defrag from a difficult week. I cannot explain it but there is just something so peaceful and rewarding about cooking meat outside. Men, if you know, you know. As I was getting ready to pull the steaks off the grill, Erin handed me a package of wieners and asked, “Can you cook these?” Puzzled, I replied, “Oh. Do your kids not like steak?” She said, “No, these are for me.” She ate hot dogs and mac and cheese that night. Did she not see the steaks? Oh yes, she saw them. She reached over the tray of steaks to grab ketchup to dip her cut up hotdogs in. I was done with these people. Thankfully, my wife urged me to give them another chance. The next time, (yes, miraculously, there was a next time) she tried the steak. From that point forward, she and Jeff were weekend regulars expecting me to grill steak and my signature jalapeno poppers. One Saturday evening, we drove an hour and a half to visit my wife’s family for the day. We got a call from Jeff. His first words were, “Where are you guys?” I said, “We are at Leslie’s parents, what’s up?” He said, “Where is your cutting board?” Confused, I asked, “Why? Where are you?” Jeff, almost offended, responded, “Were in your kitchen. We brought steak. Are you going to grill, or not?” I turned to Leslie and said, “I guess we need to head back.”
I told this story in my group at church recently. Someone asked, “Did that bother you that they just showed up?” “Heck no!” That is actually their gift. They just show up. In my Lesson 3 article, I wrote:
“…some of our friends parked on the highway, crawled through barbed-wire fences, crossed creeks, and ran through dense timber across multiple properties to find a way to my wife.”
This was Jeff and Erin. When the tornado hit, they did not call us. They just ran to their car and drove west as fast as they could. When they saw the road was blocked, they swerved into the ditch, jumped out and took a straight path through the woods toward my property. This is what they do. They just show up.
The morning after the tornado, Jeff was the first person at my house. Erin, and the red chairs, were probably second. When Erin arrived that next day, she set up two red bag chairs on the front porch. She pulled up a table and set up shop. She organized so many things for us from those red chairs. She, along with another friend, helped organize our insurance information, directed volunteers, and I am sure that she is probably responsible for the food that showed up every day to feed all who were diligently working.
That evening, every local tv news network including a national NBC crew broadcasted live from our back yard. It was interesting watching as they were fanned out just enough so that the camera would not see the neighboring crew. I watched as each crew simultaneously did their entire evening shows just a few feet apart. The Today Show on NBC even covered our story while Good Morning America broadcast from our neighbor’s property. Friends from all over the nation called us after seeing us on their local nightly news. It was so busy that day and evening. Then, suddenly, it wasn’t. Everyone was gone. I went to the front porch and sat in one of the red chairs. I did not expect to see anyone until that next day. My wife had taken our boys to the hotel, and everyone else, well deservingly, went home to rest. After a few moments, Erin pulled down the drive and then parked. She got out of her van carrying pizza. Jeff came back shortly after that. For the next several days of cleanup, the first thing I saw when I pulled in my driveway were those bright red chairs. The red chairs became a symbol of hope to Leslie and me.
After many days, the cleanup process was over. Our friends went back to work and to their normal lives. We were beyond grateful that so many people wanted to be there to help us. I remember very vividly the day that we concluded the cleanup. Everyone went home and I was out at the property by myself. I backed my truck up to where I could look out over our once very beautiful pond. It now looked like a war zone with our trees snapped in half and debris floating around. I put my tailgate down and sat just taking it all in. The last several days had been a whirlwind with people moving a hundred miles an hour helping us. This was the first moment that I had to take a breath and began to realize what was going on. I cannot adequately express the aloneness that I felt as I sat there. Reality had just settled in. I am sure I will never forget that feeling. Thankfully, it did not last long. I heard a vehicle pulling up the drive. I turned around and saw Jeff’s truck. “What’s he doing here?” I thought. What I did not realize was that Jeff was just doing what he and Erin do; just show up. Jeff walked up, sat a 6-pack on the tailgate, and hopped up and took a seat next to me. I do not remember us even saying anything. We just sat there, had a few beers, and watched the pond as the sun went down. Of all the unbelievably selfless acts of service that our many friends, church family, community members, and even strangers did for us, that moment of Jeff just showing up was most likely the greatest. It was what I needed more than anything else. Like I said, I will never forget that moment.
The red chairs stayed on our front porch until a week or two before we moved back home, several months later. For months, I dreaded every time that I had to pull down our driveway. Each time I left I had to shuck those terrible memories of what the tornado represented. I mentally and emotionally prepared myself for each return. I forgot about the red chairs every time and as soon as I passed the trees nearing my driveway and could see the view of my house, there were those red chairs. They were fading, but they always shone as bright red beacons in contrast against the dark and gloomy destruction. They represented that our red chair friends had never left. Even if Jeff and Erin were not there, the chairs were. It meant that our friends could show up any moment and occupy them. In such a simple way, I never felt fully alone when I worked at the house by myself. Every time I took a break, I sat in those red chairs. Just a few weeks ago, Erin retired the red chairs and upgraded to some new ones. The new chairs are blue. Regardless, they will always be our red chair friends.
The Lesson
- Find some red chair friends.
- More importantly: Be the red chair friends.
I stated before that my wife and I break our marriage timeline into two parts; pre-tornado and post-tornado. These are the two reference points that we use when remembering things from the past. We use these terms in conversations with ourselves and with others. We say these terms without thinking. That season was just that pivotal in our lives. Again, the tornado was actually the least of our worries during that season. It was just the enormous physical representation of where we were. I have been asked many times by those who were close to us, “how did you keep it all together?” “By the grace of God,” is the only answer I can come up with. I drew from some places I did not even know existed. The mind is such an unbelievably powerful thing. Somehow, my marriage, family, business, and church all stayed intact through that season. Each of those it seemed was hanging by a very frayed and single thread. Holding everything together did come at a great cost to me. Every night I went to bed believing that I would not wake up the next morning. The worst part was my wife believed it too. Every night when I closed my eyes, I asked God to please let me wake up so that I can raise my sons. It took four years for me to build myself back up. For a long time, I had nothing left to give. I did not want to hang around family and friends. In the rare occasion that I agreed to go somewhere, I usually drove separate so that I could leave early if it was too much. Those years are the exact opposite of the man I was before that season and the man I am today.
I did not write this “How To Survive a Tornado” series for compassion. I don’t need it. I wrote it for one reason. To help you. After I wrote the Lesson 1 article, a close family member said, “Dang, you really put yourself way out there.” I replied, “Yeah, that was the purpose.” People do not relate to people; people relate to “real” people. I am grateful for all of those who have reached out to tell me or my wife how much this series has meant to them. I am in awe that people from all over the world have read these. It just shows that everyone has a tornado season in life.
As I stated before, this series only scratched the surface of what we were going through during those years. This time frame does not even include my wife having cancer. Just before what I have been referring to as the “tornado season” began, we had just wrapped up a different tumultuous season. Leslie had cancer surgically removed from her body, a series of treatments, and we amassed a mountain of medical debt. This “How to Survive a Tornado” series begins just a few months after we felt we were out of the woods with her health. With that said, please do not read this series and feel bad for us. If you do, then you read it wrong. I did not write this to receive something. I wrote it to give something. The truth is my family is healthy and accounted for. I have nothing but gratitude for my life and the things that I have either enjoyed or overcame. I have multiple friends that have gone through much worse. They have suffered the ultimate pain, the loss of a child. They would go through a tornado every single day if they could have their child back. Many of you reading this have had seasons similar to mine or maybe much worse. The difference may just be that you get to read about mine.
What I realized as I was writing this for you, is that it ended up being just as much for me. When I decided several months ago that I would write this as a series, I wrote on my dry erase board four titles. They are the four lessons for this series. Even though I knew what I was going to write about, it has taken months to complete. Many times, I have an instant inspiration on a topic and can write a complete article and be ready to post in less than an hour. This series was different. I dreaded writing these. Each time I had to put myself back in a very dark place to draw out what I needed. When I finished an article, I had to wait several weeks before doing it again.
From the beginning, I planned to write this lesson as the final closure. I wanted to stress the importance of close relationships and doing life with other people. This is coming from someone who has not always seen the value in sharing my deep personal thoughts, vision, dreams, and even struggles with others. It took a tornado and one HELL of a season to teach me that I/we, need others to get through life. Obviously, I have come a long way as my personal thoughts are now shared across the globe! I am grateful for my tornado season. Hopefully you can find a way to prosper through yours as well.
Thank you for reading this series!
And…Thank you for following manamongboys.com.
I had this vision almost twenty years ago; before I even had sons. Then, ten years ago (November 2011), the vision resurfaced, and I began the first steps toward how I could help men raising the next generation of men. It was not until after the tornado in 2016, that I realized what my purpose was and started to really hone in on what this would look like.
What is a Man Among Boys?
I define it this way:
A “Man Among Boys” is a man who lives with a purpose outside of himself; he lives for others. He understands that his life, his decisions, and his actions directly affect and influence the development of his sons.
During the years that I coached high school sports, the phrase man among boys was used quite often. It described an athlete who was superior in many ways to the other boys on the field. He may have been bigger, stronger, faster, or just possessed far greater skill in the sport than anyone else. You may have heard this phrase used in many other settings as I also have. Regardless of sports, education, work, or any other arena, a man among boys is a person who is exceptionally more knowledgeable and skilled among his peers. Usually, this person serves as a leader and the one that the team looks to when they need an answer or some heroic feat when the game is on the line.
Isn’t this the role a dad should be to his boys?
