Some time ago, I wrote an article which I titled "Hanging on a Wall" It is about a childhood experience when I found myself in peril and how I was able to hang on until help arrived. I was literally hanging on a wall until someone came along to pull me out of harms way. I will try to find the story and post it on this blog site. The story is written from the perspective of me as an adult and how my life and my courage was placed on the line and how I was rescued by an older boy in Sedamsville who pulled me from a wall and saved my life. When I moved to Cedar City a dozen years ago I met yet another boy who pulled me from a wall of self destruction, and self pity. That boy was as big as anyone I have ever know spiritually and physically. His name is Ken Benson. Ken Suffered with Parkinson's as long as anyone I have ever heard about and he gave me the courage to hang on until help arrives. more than a decade later, I am still holding on. The day before yesterday, I competed in the Utah Summer Games Archery tournament. I was just two weeks out of the emergency room where I was treated for acute pain. It was the worse pain I have ever experienced. I was really hanging on a wall and I was a little more than half way through the worse athletic ordeal of my life. with seventy arrows left to shoot. it may have been sensible to just pack it in and go home. Not a person on the field or in the crowd would have faulted me for it. but in the lane next to me was Jake Benson, one of Ken Benson's grandsons and two lanes in the opposite direction was Ken's namesake who is my friend Dude Benson's son. Jake is the son of Ken's older son Kendal. Both Kendal and Dude were watching others of the Benson progeny who were competing on the same line with me. Emily who had given me the name Don-Don was there with her little brother who was also completing and Jerica newly married was there at some time also. Mindy Benson who always takes time to see how I am getting along was there. In fact every one who I ever knew in the Benson Family was there. Thought of quiting lasted about as long as a rotten tomato in a food fight. Giving up meant being carried from the field by Ken's two giant grandson's whom I pray will emulate their giant grandfather both physically and spiritually. I have learned from a loving Savior and a great man and his caring family to hang on when it is physically impossible to do so. I shot my final arrow and walked away with my head held high to the applause of new and old friends. Oh by the way in my hand was a gold medal outshone by the eternal friendship in my heart.
