Transcript
A (0:00)
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B (1:02)
What has been almost 30 years now 1971 since Doc Haney and his boys planted that tree out. 30 years. Sam and Tom and Joe were youngsters. Dan, their little brother, was only five when they and their dad dug that hole in the front yard at 308 North Jefferson Street. It happened during one of the family's annual springtime get togethers in Silver Lake, Indiana. Grandma and Grandpa were waiting on the front porch for Doc and Marilyn and the boys, who were promptly greeted with warm hugs and it's been too long. Ever tell you I grew up in this house? Doc asked his young sons. Of course, he had reminded them every time they'd visited. Matter of fact, that house on North Jefferson at 308 North Jefferson street had been in the Haney family for three generations before the boys came along. Anyway, the afternoon of the first day of that particular visit, Doc took the boys aside, suggested they do something nice for Grandma and Grandpa, something to commemorate Mother's Day and Father's Day. Something to since it was then between the two, maybe he surprised them by driving out to the nursery on Wabash and bringing back a tree to plant in their yard. Well, the boys were eager. Off they went. And there were plenty of trees at the nursery. There were sugar maples that promised to grow fast and glow golden next autumn. There were oaks that would smile down on many future generations of Haneys, and the leaves would turn russet each year before they tumbled down. But then Doc spied a little spruce tree, a young Norway spruce. It appeared to be kind of spindly and sparse, about 5ft tall and still. There was something about that scrawny little evergreen that got Doc's attention, even made him feel certain somehow that if he and the boys did not take it, it would just stand there, lonely forever. All during the ride home, Sam and Tom and Joe and Dan peered out the rear window of the car, speaking words of reassurance to the little spruce tree which itself seemed to be peeking anxiously from beneath the tied down trun lid. Back home, the race goes on to dig the hole and plant the tree before Grandma and Grandpa discovered the surprise. And were they surprised, and how they thanked their boy and his boys with more hugs and this time even a couple of tears. Almost 30 years ago, the Hindus have a fancy philosophy called karma. Plain English it means that what you do comes back to you. And I'm sure this much is true. Every kind word that you bestow, every helping hand you extend, every job you do well, every tree you plant, you leave outstretched arms waiting for your return. You may have heard how last October 1996, Doc and Marilyn Haney were piloting their little plane, a 1949 vintage Piper PA16, and the engine went out over Silver Lake, Indiana, and they crashed. But after a stay in the hospital, despite spinal fractures and serious head injuries and Such, the now 60ish Dr. And Mrs. Haney have recovered completely. They survived, and for one reason only. You see, between the time engine trouble caught them unprepared and the time their plane struck the ground, the final moments of that descent were cushioned and their fall was broken by the limbs of a towering spruce tree in the front yard of the old house at 308 North Jefferson Street. You know the rest of the story.