Strength in Numbers

Newfoundland is a place reknowned the world over for its culture, sense of humour, and love of a good stiff drink...or maybe more than just one.

It is an island full of fable, myth, and legend. Everywhere you go, someone will offer up a story, a memory of a time when, or even just brighten your day with a hearty smile and laugh.

But, what do you know about our character? Our strength of mind, body, and soul? How we continuously thrive through the dead cold of winter, the dreary thaw of spring, and enjoy every second we have on our rock amongst the outside turmoil of the world...what have you heard about that? The following is an example of the strength of one man, his family, and how I came to see that community support is so vital to this rapidly depleting island I call home. Here you go, and may you enjoy.

It was the blood that caught my attention first; not the amount of it, and believe me there was a lot of that, but more so the way it was falling to the floor. It dropped in small rivlets of crimson red, and I watched as his hands desperately tried to keep the flow in his body. His eyes were so crystal blue in something akin to fear, but his voice was strong as he told me to drive him to the hospital...as his tongue licked over the missing gaps where his top and bottom front teeth used to be.

I drove as fast as the van could manage, the whole time making sure he was okay, watching out for other cars as I roared past them, and paying close attention to any moose that might venture onto the road. They are plentiful this time of season, and are extremely stupid animals with no hesitations of suicide versus feeding their bellies. I looked over at him holding a towel dripping in blood, and was amazed that he did not even so much utter a groan or a whimper.

I marvelled at his strength, wondering how he was keeping his composure, then paid close attention to the road, while ignoring the increasing speed of the van. Finally, I raced into the entrance of the hospital, slowed down for him to jump out, and then parked the vehicle. Another car pulled up with his partner inside, her face a mask of fear and worry that it had been one of her sons in the car with me...yet it did not change from concern when she found out it was her companion.

A few hours later, with the room full of relatives and friends, I donned a pair of rubber gloves, grabbed some hot cloths, and washed away the blood off his hands. I tried not to stare at the gauze covering his lower chin that was becoming darker and darker as the seconds passed, and silently gave thanks for small favours that he only lost some teeth and skin...and not his life. Turns out he had been using a table saw to cut some wood for some cupboards, when the wood caught and kicked back into his face.

I was the one who saw the aftermath not even ten seconds later. Thank God I was home when it all went down.

But, it was the people at his side that refused to let him go through it alone; the family and friends who made small jokes to make him laugh, and offered support in time of need. I watched them as a silent observer, an outsider looking in, yet still feeling like a part of the family. Everyone waited until the ambulance whisked him away to the closest dental surgeon, and I gave thanks that he would be okay.

The image still stays with me though...missing enamel, blood, and the surprise in his voice that it had actually happened to him. But, he never made a complaint, never cursed or swore, and only accepted that which can be unacceptable to most. My people, I tell you, we have the strongest skin imaginable, the most beautiful hearts I have ever seen, and we laugh in the face of struggle while looking to the sky for guidance.

I am home again, back in the land of the unforgotten, and back in the arms of God. Life only gets better from here on in, my friends. I guess you will have to wait until next time to hear the story of my hike up into no man's land, the mountain known as Gros Morne. How was I to know that both incidents would happen in the same day?

Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." - Martin Luther King, Jr.