From my friend George Bowers....
Next Thursday would be my
father’s 101st birthday. Although he passed in 2009 at 86, he could have done so
much sooner and you would be not be reading my column today.
When he was in his early teens,
his father, Beecher Bowers, ran a gas station near Maurertown. One day a cash
strapped customer pawned his pocket watch for some gasoline and a quart of oil.
Although there may be a station owner willing to do that today, most pumps
won’t accept anything other than paper or plastic.
It so happened that my father
took that watch with him when he, his brother and a friend went crow hunting a
day or so later. His bib overalls featured a watch pocket in front of the chest
where a worker could store his timepiece long before cell phone cases.
That particular day, Dad carried
a .22 rifle he had bought from Sears Roebuck for $12.00. His friend had a
similar firearm while his younger brother toted a shotgun.
As dad told the story, they all
shot at a few crows that unwisely flew overhead. When none of them fell, he
said they went to “crow hopping,” which is an activity I am unable to describe.
As they were jumping around, his friend’s gun discharged with the bullet
striking dad in the chest.
Stunned and scared, dad
frantically searched for blood but found none. Instead he found two holes in
his overalls. Upon closer examination, he discovered the bullet had entered his
pocket, gone through the back of the watch case destroying the works, scratched
the inside of the crystal a few millimeters from his skin, and ricocheted back
out through the movement and his overalls to lodge in some unknown location,
where it doubtless remains today.
They were all greatly relieved
but none more so than my dad! The pocket watch sat right in front of his heart
and this temporarily pawned timepiece undoubtedly saved his life.
With a mixture of relief, fear,
and adrenaline, he kept the scratched glass but tossed the rest of the ruined
watch into the woods. Instead of a mortal wound, he carried a large red spot on
his chest for several days.
He never told his father and his
father never asked about the watch. Dad suspected that someone had informed him
of the shenanigans and realized that Providence was working overtime that day.
What I’d give to have that
movement, those bibs, or even the crystal. Wherever they are, they serve as
powerful reminders of the grace, mercy, and precision of God. What are the odds
that someone would have pawned a watch just a few days before dad would need
it? Why was it at precisely the right spot to absorb and deflect the bullet?
What kept the glass from breaking under the force of the speeding projectile?
And how was it that the random angle of entry happened to be exactly perfect to
cause ricochet rather than death?
Dad shared that at the time he
was “too dumb to be thankful,” but later in life he certainly was. I certainly
am as well. Dad was a leader in our family, church, community, and in my life.
Not only did he earn an honest living, but he also helped introduce us to Jesus
and how to serve, follow and obey Him. He was a blessing to many over his 86½
years and was a superb Sunday School teacher for most of his life.
As his birthday again approaches, I continue
to thank God for sparing the life of this special man for over 70 years in
order to bless me and many more. Chances are you or someone you know has also
experienced a miracle that has blessed many. This is the perfect time to thank
and worship God for it and to be a blessing to others. Thanking God, George
George Bowers is the Senior Pastor of Antioch
Covenant Brethren Church and has authored 21 books including Blessings Volumes
1-4 which are collections of these articles. He can be reached through
www.georgebowersministries.com or at gabowers@shentel.net.
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