Almost 10 years ago, Josey was asked to help a family who had witnessed a private plane crash that tragically caused the death of several of their family members. Josey wrote about the family in his first book, Crucial Moments. The story in the book is titled “Stephen and The Three Wooden Crosses”. Josey will tell you with tears in his eyes that trying to help this family was one of the hardest things he has ever had to do. He took them to the On-Site Academy in Massachusetts to be treated by the professionals there. Over the years it has been a roller coaster for the family, but they have been working hard to continue to find peace.
Recently, the father of the family shared an essay with Josey that one of the surviving sons wrote. It was the father’s way of thanking him. Josey now wants to share the son’s story with all of you. Not for recognition, but to show the importance of following through.
In the field of peer support, it is important to provide follow through, and follow up with people you are caring for. Josey has always taken the Dr. Jeff Mitchell model to extremes when it comes to the continuum of care. Whether for months, years, or in this case nearly a decade, staying connected with those you support is so important. People need to know they are not alone when all the newness of the trauma or crisis has gone away. In certain instances that connection means you are blessed with a gift like this story.
We ask you to read this essay and share it with anyone who needs a little hope. We ask you to embrace the heart and soul of a child who saw death firsthand, and somehow found his path to a world with a little less pain. -HLA
The yells of screeching aluminum bending the wrong way caught my attention as the
plane went down. My mother cried out for her son as smoke choked the spring air. My father
quickly ran to the scene to resuscitate who was left; simultaneously, I comforted my little brother
and alerted 911 on a hand radio. The scene was left with adrenaline and denial. “This is a dream,
just a bad dream,” I told myself. At the time, my 9-year-old self couldn’t take in the severity of
the situation. However, in the end, only my uncle made it out of the four onboard, including my
older brother. Despite that, I stared at my front door for years, waiting for my role model to
return. From then on, I would compare life to purely existing, an entity floating in the void. I
found fitting into the frame of society’s standards quite difficult, often feeling voiceless and
empty. After experiencing what experts say was the most traumatic accident they had ever seen,
how could I not? I found myself excluding my pure thoughts and emotions and, cliche enough
developing what some would call a “mask” to disguise my authentic self.
Six years later, under the confines of the COVID lockdown, I was now a sophomore in
high school. The combination of absolute confinement and muted emotions brewed a perfect
storm of mental entrapment. I knew that if I did not skew the direction I was heading, I certainly
wouldn’t be here today. In an act of disparity, I picked up what I thought would’ve been a poor
attempt at temporarily numbing the pain. Brittle mahogany and rusted strings, a guitar sat in my
hands. Most definitely crafted before my birth, yet at that moment, I felt reborn. I chuckled at
that sensation and shrugged it off but kept strumming. I fumbled with the strings, feeling my
fingers ache at even the slightest touch. Struggling to hear the song I was learning as the
dissonances of the strings reminded me of the screeching aluminum in years past. The guitar’s
strings were sharp due to lack of maintenance, and at home, I struggled with an inability to
maintain hygiene, battling routine poverty. Insecurities about my appearance and general social
anxiety handicapped any interaction and, to a more considerable extent, self-expression. “People
don’t want to be around me.” I often thought. Eventually, I put the guitar down, as it was just
another wall I couldn’t vault over.-SS
Seeking meaning, I joined my high school wrestling program,. However, after investing
half a year into it, I realized it was too challenging for me. The routine was too arduous, and I
found no improvement in my technique. Quitting wrestling because of the stress it placed on my
academics and mental health; I reapproached the guitar. Hesitant because of my past failure but
eager to give it another shot. Unlike my first attempt, my skill started to excel, and sustenance hit
me as it did originally. Fretting faster, picking properly, and playing with ease, music was made.
Confidence grew with it, and similarly enough, so had my grasp on my life. Like I did with the
guitar, I welcomed myself back into society and was blindsided. My friends, opportunity, and
success had been there all along. I just had an ill mindset about it all, so I decided to give life and
its pursuits another go. I ended up rejoining the wrestling team, where I managed to place 17th in
the state and take up the role of team captain. Despite never excelling in academics, my grades
improved as well. Finding it painless to go through the ordinary day, and when confronted with
challenges, I remind myself not to give up when hardships present themselves. The song that
once reminded me of screeching aluminum I was now performing in front of a large audience as
I flawlessly played Free Bird.
For more information on the On Site Academy and their services please click here. To be connected via email onsite-ggi@onsiteacademy.org
“Stephen and the Three Wooden Crosses” can be found in Crucial Moments, Stories of Support in Times of Crisis in the Crucial Moments book series. Information on the series can be found at https://crucialmoments.org/ or
On Amazon at Crucial Moments
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