Mile-High Slide, Winter 1976

Paiten, 2009

Have you ever braved the Mile-High Slide at Harmon Park? I remember my first time staring at the metal steps with the wide and worn handrails. It towered above anyone beckoning for a different point of view. Bundled liked A Christmas Story, my older brother Tim and I caddy-cornered to the park grounds from Grandma’s. The placid tundra of snow drifts were waiting to be trampled and crunched and the tree-lined horizon, baring its arms of hesitant buds, shivered with the ice-covered equipment. It seemed that everything in view was yearning for longer days.

The Mile-High Slide proudly stood some distance while hiding its taunting form among the tree trunks. It appeared approachable yet each step closer shouted its childhood conquest. I can almost sense the air of crystal-covered snow drifts, a bit more frozen from the night cold, and the tasty scarf wrapped around my face. With courage, I risked each tongue-sticking metal step, enclosing my bundled form between the worn handrails. At the top, the railed-platform displayed a protected view wider than the furtherest imagination. The only places higher known were grain elevators and the Plainsman Hotel downtown. It was the sole sky-scraper, boasting its five-stories, and neither views were open for curious comparisons.  

Defying first-grade common sense, standing on that railed-platform, I concluded I would ride it this time, on my stomach, as if to fly. Bending down with my quaking legs hanging off the edge, I launched myself, head first, arms spread open wide to catch the wind. The thrill and shrill of laughter broke forth from my innocent lips. The antiquated, shallow-sided metal slope held my bundled body for just a few seconds before I was dumped onto the treacherous ground.

Having the "air knocked outta yah!" is a tearful milestone most accomplished without reservations. It's not quite baby book-worthy or endearing enough for scrapbooking~just personal enough to be entered into the legendary book of Hard Knocks...a pain that commiserates itself to future conversations.

I would have howled had it not been for the crushing, voiceless pain. Only gasps for unavailable air could be heard in the frozen woods of my mind. I was commanded “to breathe!” but my unbelieving mind refused to obey. I can faintly hear the words: "You got the air knocked outta yah!" Instantly, my small-framed body, ordained with authority, offered a few shallow heaves for desperate air. With tears dripping down my reddened, hot cheeks, it took the necessary, guttural breath to charge sound from this wide-eyed first grader.

Bewildered, I looked long onto that the metal slope feeling betrayed by the view from Mile-High Slide. Only God could account for the visiting multitudes seeking its thrill. It had stood there, maybe for 60+ years, as a witness to conquering children and youth-depleted, reminiscing adults. It is gone now. It has been removed from the park due to its lack of approved standards for child-safety. I noticed its absence when I was home last Fall. It saddened me a bit to know that it only remains, for me, as part of my "projector clips."

With God’s grace, it has become a reflection of God’s comfort as I read Psalm 34:18 MSG. He commands the necessary, guttural breath despite my regretted decisions. He most assuredly provides the air in the midst of my crushing voiceless pain. "I got the air knocked out of me" is a tearful report I could still give today over some decisions. Less haste, more reservations. My more recent and heartfelt prayer has been, “Lord, please line up my mind, will and spirit with the Mile-High view You have over my life. You are our El Elyon! Overflow me with the breath of Your Holy Spirit. Your Word is the railed-platform of which I now live fully as a grown-up first grader of a much hopeful and bigger imagination.”

Projector Clip Series, #1 (Reprinted from February 2010)

Williston, ND

"If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, He'll help you catch your breath.”

Psalm 34:18 MSG