My college career at Virginia Tech was a turning point in my life in many ways.  It was my first experience of being on my own, it’s where I had my first date – and my first break-up.  It’s also where I had my first real exposure to religious beliefs outside the Catholic Church.  In particular I remember attending meetings of Campus Crusade for Christ and making some friends who were quite active in the group.  I wasn’t easily swayed, however, and could never quite embrace their beliefs or life-style.

After college I felt the next step was to get a good job, get married, and settle down.  Instead I returned home to Ohio in the Summer of 1975 without any marriage prospects and for a while felt like my life was over.  I didn’t enjoy the job at Timken, which I had all through college as part of a Co-op program, but they made me the most attractive offer so I decided to take it.  I didn’t like the idea of living alone so I went back to the farm.  Unfortunately things had changed while I was gone and I didn’t really fit in very well anymore.  There was no bedroom for me so my mother let me use the front porch as a bedroom.  It was small and cold, but most of all, I remember feeling alone and almost in a hopeless situation, despite the fact that I had a good job and plenty of potential.  My failure to find a wife in college was now seeming like a major problem.  I didn’t feel there was a way of meeting anyone now.  While my brothers and sisters were enjoying their lives and friends, I was often alone, and feeling humiliated.  I felt that I needed to get away, but where to go?  Moving into an apartment was not attractive option.

What I really wanted to do was leave everything and start a new life.  Then the thought came to me to quit my job and travel.  Initially the thought seemed like too much to bear.  Where would I go?  How would I survive?  What would I do at the end?  But the more I thought about it, the better I felt about it.  It was like a light had come on and I suddenly felt good and excited about my life.  I won’t go into all the details here, but that decision truly did change my life.  Ultimately, I settled in Salt Lake City, joined the Mormon Church, served a mission in Japan, made many friends, and met my future wife.

From May, 1976 to November, I traveled the U.S., mostly alone. There is quite a bit I could say about the trip, but to summarize, I was able to visit a number of friends from college, and family members in places like Virginia, Tennessee, Michigan, Illinois, Texas, Washington, and California.  I also visited a number of National Parks and several cities, including Salt Lake City.  There I was introduced to the Mormon church, which left a lasting impression upon me.  This was mid-way through my travels and I was there for less than 2 days.  I continued on for 3 more months, eventually running out of places to visit.  I didn’t want to return to Ohio and the only place that came to mind was Salt Lake City.  So I returned there, got an apartment, a job, and was soon immersed in the Mormon culture.  I became quite active in the church despite not being a member and was soon being taught by the missionaries.

I was raised as a  Catholic – attended Catholic Grade and High School, was an altar boy, never missed church on Sunday.  Actually I have some great memories of growing up as a Catholic, but as I grew older, I questioned things.  My mom and had many discussions about religion.  She knew I just didn’t have a strong faith in the Catholic church.

Let’s jump ahead to my college graduation.

After college I felt the next step was to get a good job, get married, and settle down.  Instead I returned home to Ohio in the Summer of 1975 without any marriage prospects and for a while felt like my life was over.  I didn’t enjoy the job at Timken, which I had all through college as part of a Co-op program, but they made me the most attractive offer so I decided to take it.  I didn’t like the idea of living alone so I went back to the farm.  Unfortunately things had changed while I was gone and I didn’t really fit in very well anymore.  There was no bedroom for me so my mother let me use the front porch as a bedroom.  It was small and cold, but most of all, I remember feeling alone and almost in a hopeless situation, despite the fact that I had a good job and plenty of potential.  My failure to find a wife in college was now seeming like a major problem.  I didn’t feel there was a way of meeting anyone now.  While my brothers and sisters were enjoying their lives and friends, I was often alone, and feeling humiliated.  I felt that I needed to get away, but where to go?  Moving into an apartment was not attractive option.  What I really wanted to do was leave everything and start a new life.  Then the thought came to me to quit my job and travel.  Initially the thought seemed like too much to bear.  Where would I go?  How would I survive?  What would I do at the end?  But the more I thought about it, the better I felt about it.  It was like a light had come on and I suddenly felt good and excited about my life.  I won’t go into all the details here, but that decision truly did change my life.  Ultimately, I settled in Salt Lake City, joined the Mormon Church, served a mission in Japan, made many friends, and met my future wife.

From May, 1976 to November, I traveled the U.S., mostly alone. There is quite a bit I could say about the trip, but to summarize, I was able to visit a number of friends from college, and family members in places like Virginia, Tennessee, Michigan, Illinois, Texas, Washington, and California.  I also visited a number of National Parks and several cities, including Salt Lake City.  There I was introduced to the Mormon church, which left a lasting impression upon me.  This was mid-way through my travels and I was there for less than 2 days.  I continued on for 3 more months, eventually running out of places to visit.  I didn’t want to return to Ohio and the only place that came to mind was Salt Lake City.  So I returned there, got an apartment, a job, and was soon immersed in the Mormon culture.  I became quite active in the church despite not being a member and was soon being taught by the missionaries.

Although I like the Mormons, and even had a desire to become one of them, my lack of spiritual skills (that’s one way to describe it) kept me from accepting baptism.  I just wasn’t sure enough about the church to make that kind of committment.  Things went on this way for some time.  I continued meeting with the missionaries and attending church, but also felt obligated to attend Catholic mass and meet with the local priest there in Salt Lake.  Time passed – nearly two years as a matter of fact.  I went through several sets of missionaries and still couldn’t make a committment.  I tried fasting a number of times – two days in a row one time and three another time (although I did drink water).  The sign or revelation I was seeking didn’t happen.  In September of 1978 (approx.), the missionaries were teaching me a complete set of lessons for the second or third time.  After the final lesson, and with no real progress having been made, they weren’t sure what to do next.  We had set an appointment, nevertheless.  At our meeting, I was surprised when they announced that they were going to have to stop meeting with me.  They had prayed about it and felt that’s what they needed to do.  This was more than a surprise – it was a shock – and I found it quite upsetting.  I remember going out that evening for a long walk, feeling depressed.  I wasn’t too far from downtown Salt Lake and I made my way to the Temple and the adjacent Visitors Center.  Inside I met one of the workers and we started talking.  I’m not sure why, but I decided to tell him all about my experiences with the church and the missionaries.  I didn’t hide the fact that I was feeling low about what seemed like a rejection by the missionaries.  He then counseled me to pray – but not a normal prayer.  He felt impressed to advise me to pray until I received an answer – up to 4 hours, as I recall!  I returned rather late that evening to my house, but pondered his words, and then decided to try it without further delay.  I knelt beside my bed and started to pray.  I prayed and prayed and prayed.  I got sleepy and did fall asleep for a little while, but after 4 hours I still hadn’t received an answer and decided that was enough.  I got into bed and went to sleep.

The next day (I’m pretty sure it was the next day anyway), I went to work as usual, but was called into the boss’s office.  He informed me that they needed to lay me off.  What a shock!  That was totally unexpected.  I was told to leave as soon as I packed up my things.  I spent the next few days in a state of depression, but knew I needed to find something else.  One of the employment ads I answered led me to a recruiting agency where I was very surprised to meet the very same man I had met less than 2 weeks earlier at the Temple Square Visitors Center.  He was an employment recruiter.  To make a long story short, he found me a job within a week or so in Springville, UT.  I commuted from Salt Lake for a while and moved there in December.  My next door neighber was Bob Hatch.  He was a very spiritual man and a Latter Day Saint.  He became a good friend, taught me more about the gospel, helped me see that I already had a testimony –  and ultimately baptized me the following October (1979).  I was 27.  I still remember exiting the baptismal font with Bob and feeling an overwhelming sense of joy.  I hugged him and exclaimed “I did it!”, although felt later it would have more appropriate to have said “WE did it!”.  I still maintain contact with Bob today (2009).

At first I had no desire to serve a mission.  I had been wanting to get married for many years and felt that I was finally ready, but this goal continued to elude me.  So one year later, I once again was eager for a change in my life and felt that serving a mission was the right thing to do.  At age 28, I needed special permission, but church leaders reluctantly agreed to let me go.  I had worked in engineering for several years, had saved money, and even owned a house.  Because of this, I was able to completely finance my own mission.  Going into the Missionary Training Center was a real shock to my system – I was used to living alone, and suddenly being forced to live in close quarters with young men much younger than myself was stressful.  Added to that was the tremendous pressure to learn Japanese, memorize lesson plans and scriptures.  I was there for 2 months and steadily fell further and further behind schedule the whole time.  To top it off, I was made a District Leader, which meant additional responsibilities and time commitment.  Actually, the thing that really topped it off, was the fact that I felt I had an inadequate testimony.  It was a constant worry that I didn’t have a real testimony – kind of a continuation of the feelings I’d had the previous 4 years.  I will digress here and fast forward several months into my mission.  I decided to hold a special fast and selected a special spot to pray outdoors late in the evening for the purpose of gaining the sure knowledge that I felt I needed.  This is not unlike things I had done during the years that I investigated the church.  I’m not sure how long I prayed that evening – 1 or 2 hours I believe (nothing compared to Enos’s prayer I’m afraid), and still didn’t get that special witness I wanted, but did receive an impression – almost a voice telling me that I already had everything I needed.  To this day, I feel that my testimony is inadequate and yet I do believe in the gospel with all my heart and have not had one day of inactivity.  I don’t think I am alone in this.  We all must live by faith.  Even the Prophet of the Church does not know all things.  I know that I have been given sufficient faith, and sufficient determination, to remain faithful.

Written January 7, 2009

I have been through a number of periods in my life where I have felt lost, hopeless – even deperate.  In every case, things eventually improved, letting me know that my Heavenly Father is really aware of me and my needs.  Here are ones that come to mind.

Bullies in Grade School

I don’t have very much of a memory of this anymore, but at some point in my grade school career at St. Joseph, I was really burdened by bullies.  This likely was around 5th or 6th grade.  There were 3 boys in my class that would wait for me to go out to the playground every day after lunch.  I didn’t have too many friends and was small and immature for my age so I was a likely target.  I don’t remember exactly what they did, but I remember being nearly surrounded by the 3 of them and they were all bigger than I was.  They taunted and teased me, stopping short of actually hurting me physically.  This went on for quite some time – I don’t remember how long, but probably a few weeks.  Eventually I dreaded going out to play.  I was feeling very fearful and it was affecting my whole life.  I didn’t know how to handle it except to finally tell my mother.  She visited the principle (Sr. Agnell as I recall, whom everyone feared), who in turn talked the boys.  That put an end to their bullying, more or less.  The bullies still had little respect for me because of the way I handled the situation.  Nevertheless, I remember feeling a tremendous relief with this burden being suddenly lifted.  The fear was virtually gone.  I finally gained some respect in the 8th grade when I chose to not back down when another boy, who had also repeatedly picked on me, taunted me one day.  I remember a rather large crowd of boys watching as he and I fought.  It didn’t last long, and neither of us got hurt.  I remember later thinking that I should have fought with all my strength and really showed everyone what I was capable of, but I had finally gained some respect from others and myself.

In College

I fell in love for the first time with a girl named Amy about the time I turned 21 and was a Junior at Virginia Tech.  It lasted about 3 weeks before she tired of me, but the pain continued for a long time.  I was in deep depression for months and during that time it seemed the only think I could think of was to try to get her back.  I met her in the summer, and then in the fall had to return to Ohio to work at Timken and live at home.  I decided to write my thoughts down and later used much of the material in a long letter that I composed and sent to her.  As I recall, it was at least 10 pages long.  The letter never got a reaction that I was aware of.  In the winter, I returned to college and roomed with Bradley, who was a black student I was paired up with.  We became friends and I confided in him telling him of some of my feelings for Amy.  This helped a lot because up until then I had no one to talk to.  Unfortunately Bradley dropped out of school before the end of the Winter quarter and I was left alone.  I remember feeling terribly alone – even worse than I had felt in the summer and fall.  Mercifully, the quarter finally ended and I returned home where at least I had my family, but the feelings of loneliness continued.  In the summer I returned to school and things really started to change for me.  I met Julie who seemed to really like me, although I wasn’t able to have the same feelings for her that I had for Amy.  Nevertheless, my whole outlook began to change.  Then I made friends with a guy in my class – also a John.  He introduced me to 3 of his friends and the 4 of us began to do a lot of things together.  John became my best friend and I eventually roomed with him during our final quarter at school.  That final year turned out to be the best of my college career.  Once again, I knew that Heavenly Father was watching over me.

After College

I had been enjoying college, being on my own, making new friends, etc.  I felt the next step was to get a good job, get married, and settle down.  Instead I returned home to Ohio in the Summer of 1975 without any marriage prospects and for a while felt like my life was over.  I didn’t enjoy the job at Timken, which I had all through college as part of a Co-op program, but they made me the most attractive offer so I decided to take it.  I didn’t like the idea of living alone so I went back to the farm.  Unfortunately things had changed while I was gone and I didn’t really fit in very well anymore.  There was no bedroom for me so my mother let me use the front porch as a bedroom.  It was small and cold, but most of all, I remember feeling alone and almost in a hopeless situation, despite the fact that I had a good job and plenty of potential.  My failure to find a wife in college was now seeming like a major problem.  I didn’t feel there was a way of meeting anyone now.  While my brothers and sisters were enjoying their lives and friends, I was often alone, and feeling humiliated.  I felt that I needed to get away, but where to go?  Moving into an apartment was not attractive option.  What I really wanted to do was leave everything and start a new life.  Then the thought came to me to quit my job and travel.  Initially the thought seemed like too much to bear.  Where would I go?  How would I survive?  What would I do at the end?  But the more I thought about it, the better I felt about it.  It was like a light had come on and I suddenly felt good and excited about my life.  I won’t go into all the details here, but that decision truly did change my life.  Ultimately, I settled in Salt Lake City, joined the Mormon Church, served a mission in Japan, made many friends, and met my future wife.

My Mission

All new missionaries were assigned to be with a senior companion.  This was significant because the real burden of the work fell on the senior, leaving the junior companion with little responsibility or pressure.  The senior companion was responsible for planning each day’s activities, taking the lead in lessons, and perhaps most importantly, in speaking Japanese when communicating with the people.  I had a real problem with the Japanese language.  It just did not come easily to me.  I noted with great concern, that my peers were learning Japanese more rapidly than I was.  As time went on the fear of being assigned as a senior companion before I felt comfortable with the language grew.  I assumed that I wouldn’t be facing that prospect until the mid-way point in my missiont, but when I discovered about 8 months into my mission that some elders in my group had been promoted to senior, I began to worry.  I did not feel ready for that responsibility at all.  Keep in mind that I was older than all the other missionaries, which added a feeling of inferiority to the fear.  I had somehow escaped the first round of promotions, but I knew that at the next transfer, I wouldn’t likely be called.  As the date for the next transfer approached, my worry turned into near panic.  I decided to start getting one hour earlier each day to allow more time to study the language.  To make matters worse, we were heading into winter.  The thought of having to endure the cold at same time I was given the assignment to be a senior added to my depression.  On December 10th (1981), I received the dreaded call from the President Shimabukuro.  But instead of calling me to be a senior companion, he asked to serve in the mission home as the Recorder, and my companion would be a Japanese Elder.  I was thrilled.  Not only had I avoided becoming a senior, I was going to spend the cold winter months in the comfort of the mission home.  I had a wonderful time there, and had some special experiences.  I felt blessed indeed.  I eventually became a senior companion, of course, but not until the following June, and by then I was ready.  I still remember everyone in the Mission home, including President and Sister Shimabukuro, seeing me off at the Eki (train station) as I began the long trip to a Oodate.  There I had some of the very best experiences of my entire mission.  It was truly an exciting time for me.  The Lord knew me and didn’t ask me to do more than I was able, but He then gave me opportunity to stretch and grow when I was ready.

Career and Money Issues

We struggled during the first several years of our marriage.  I was reasonably successful as a home inspector, but didn’t really like it for a number of reasons, including the fact that there was never enough money.  In 1991 I decided to try something new.  I purchased a computer and sofware that could work with a telephone line to make automated calls and handle incoming calls like an answering machine, but with a lot more features.  However, I struggled for the next 2 years trying to figure out how to make money with this new technology.  During that period, I tried a number of things, but nothing was working.  All I succeeded in doing was to spend money and gradually fall into serious financial trouble.  I remember writing in my journal about our near-desperate situation and feeling like I really needed some help.  I had a young family, was a worthy priesthood holder, and felt that if anyone deserved divine guidance and inspiration it was me.  The worry and fear went on for a number of months until I was out one Sunday, on my way to visit one of my home teaching families, when the idea suddenly came to me that I had two families on my list, both related to each other, that had to pay expensive long distance charges to call each other.  And I happened to have technology that could connect them up at at fraction of the cost.  Then it ocurred to me that there might be others in a similar situation that could use my service.  From that idea, a business was born that supported us very well for many years, eventually grossing more than 2 million dollars a year.

Divorce and Business Failure

I am now in another period of difficulty – this one more severe and long-lasting than any of the others.  My divorce and subsequent business failures have left me feeling like Job in the Old Testament, having lost everything after having such abundance.  I am continually mourning the loss of what I had, and wondering why this has happened to me.  I’m still not sure whether it’s some sort of punishment or an experience the Lord has sent to give me needed experience and growth.  I have felt hopelessness like never before, and it’s gone on now for 3 years.  It’s not been all darkness.  Certainly I can be thankful for family and friends, and employment.  But a real solution is not yet in sight.  I haven’t been able to escape the feeling that I’m too old to make a comeback – that my time is over.  I know that I could live for many more years in theory, and used to look forward to a long life, but right now I can’t imagine it.  I would really prefer to be taken now than to endure many more years of this.

But I feel hope when I look back on my life and realize that I have been in similar periods of darkness, and have always come through them, eventually feeling the light and the warmth of God’s love.  I am needing that again now, and hope Heavenly Father will help me once more.  I am far from perfect, hardly deserving of anything good, but perhaps He will have mercy on me anyway.  That’s my hope.  And I know I need to express gratitude for what I have because I still have much.  Hopefully, I will someday be able to write a happy followup to this story.  Know that I’m not bitter or angry.  I don’t blame anyone but myself.  And I still know that Heavenly Father loves me.