Grieving: The Bleak Time

 

Photo by Dave Freer

My gift-from-God, happily-ever-after trophy wife Vanessa, the elegant, foxy, praying black grandmother of Woodstock, GA, and our adult daughter Tobhiyah arrived safely home on Sunday morning. They had gone to North Carolina for the Celebration of Life service for Kole Norris and Nehemiah Pratt, held on Saturday afternoon. 

Vanessa said it was a beautiful service, a tribute to the young men, and that the entire time was a time of healing for the families and community. And then, probably just before noon, she went to bed, and didn't get up again until this morning at 6:00 AM to go to work. 

I thought she needed another day, but she was too aware of the needs the law firm had, so she chose duty to others, rather than maintenance of herself. I tried to get her to take another day off, but she was determined. 

Actually, I can see value in that for her; they DO need her experience and proficiency at work. They rely on her to get the job done, but they also rely on her for the maturity and calm she brings to her co-workers. And, since they need her, she will receive good wishes from her colleagues, AND she will be able to fill her mind with all the critical details of legal filings, interviews, etc. Having something to do can be a part of her healing.

This is the bleak time of healing. I thought the picture, a cedar gum growing in volcanic rubble on a mountain somewhere in Tasmania, fit this period pretty well. So, I stole it without permission from a blog I'm subscribed to. (Sorry/Not Sorry, Dave.) I encourage you to read the post, called "Delusions," to get perspective on perseverance, which is what the picture means to Dave. And. hopefully, we all will persevere as well. Because this is the bleak time.

If you want to review the widely accepted stages of grieving, look up Kubler-Ross. That really isn't what I'm trying to re-create here. I'm wanting to describe the gritty, boots on the ground, experience many of us are going to live over the next little while. It's the third step in grieving, and it will last much longer than the first two. This blog will apply best to the people who were closest to Kole and Nehemiah; their family and friends. It's been my experience that it's applicable to other emotionally draining times as well, but it's been with the deaths of loved ones that I found it to fit most closely.

The first part of this experience was the shock, anger, fear, and disbelief we experienced when first we heard of the deaths of these two young men. It was just IMPOSSIBLE to believe; our minds couldn't comprehend it. Some of us just sat in shock; others sought, even DEMANDED to know the facts, something that would somehow help them to make the transition from a world with Kole and Nehemiah, to a world without them.

That's made worse by the truth that I talked about in my post of September 13: this is not something that makes sense. Yes, all deaths are shocking, but they are more expected in certain cases. If someone is a soldier in a combat zone, death can intrude. People who are engaged in certain illegal behaviors have no reasonable expectation of a long life. Fire-fighters, as a part of their jobs, risk their lives on a regular basis. But Kole and Nehemiah had NOTHING to do with any risk factors. Their deaths were totally unexpected. And that made the first step so very hard for many of us.

The second stage of this experience came in the immediate aftermath of the accident. There were people who had to be notified. Arrangements had to be made. Some of these were awful. I was the initial point of contact for my family, and I had to tell Nehemiah's adult cousin Tobhiyah, and then his aunt Vanessa, the person who gave him the name Nehemiah. That was awful. I hope you never have to do that; but, if you do, expect unexpected responses. Those are mostly going to be shock and rejection, but don't take it personally. I've had to break bad news to people before, and sometimes, that role sticks to us. DON'T TAKE IT PERSONALLY.

Other aspects of this second stage are quite healing, even redemptive. For me, writing about these young men was powerful and encouraging. I hope you read Jodi Johnson's tribute to her son and Nehemiah; it was beautifully moving, and it gave her a chance to speak of the joy and brotherhood these two young men found with each other, and with other friends and family. 

While the preparation is going on, either for a conventional funeral, a a Celebration of Life, it gives all of the bereaved a focus on something. Whether you are planning the service, or just planning to be there, you have a focus on something in the future, something which can be accomplished. It leaves little time for anything else.

The third stage starts after the ceremony. It can start immediately after, or when you get in the car for the drive home, or when the last guest departs. This is the bleak time. 

The grief is still palpable, and there are no arrangements you can distract yourself with. During this time, your task is acceptance, and learning. Both of those are exceedingly hard for everyone, but the closer you are to the one who has passed, the harder they are. They are also mixed so thoroughly that one blends into the other.  

The acceptance is a continuation of the first stage: understanding that they really, really are gone. This is FORCED upon you, by circumstances, which for the first time do not include the physical presence of the person who is gone.

And the learning comes with it: we are forced to LEARN how to deal with various events and circumstances, which have always included the other. It's in the bigger events, like the first Halloween, the first Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays; it's also in the little things, when you see a movie, and think, "I'll bet THEY will like that;" and then, you remember.

It's the bleak time.

I really do think that, for those hit most strongly by the loss, a year should be designated as a mourning time. That doesn't mean that you wear black for a year, although you can. It does mean that you might expect to be ambushed by a flood of emotions, at any time, and that you should be prepared to accept that as a part of your life, for the season. 

Talking helps, as long as you are talking to someone who understands grief. That doesn't HAVE to be a counselor or pastor, but they are usually good at this. Fortunately, there are usually a number of grief groups that are available in most locations of any size. Atlanta probably has a million of these, but even in the smallest place I've lived (population 4,000), the funeral home offers grief support. 

The bleak time is not forever. That message is also available in the picture at the top of this blog. In the midst of desolation, live prevails; growth happens. And, eventually, we DO learn how to live our lives in a new way. 

Two final thoughts: 

1. Grief can make you act badly toward other people. Hopefully, the people you are around will cut you some slack. That's REALLY important when you have two people, living together, both grieving. The best you can hope for, really, is that you don't both have your disturbances at the same time. It's not always going to work out that way, though. Give yourself, and give other people, some room to act strangely. It WON'T last. And, if you have just blown up on someone over a trivial matter, as soon as you realize it, make a heartfelt apology, and TRY NOT to go off on them again in the same conversation.

2. I'm not telling you anything I haven't been through. Grief has pounded me flat on multiple occasions. But, I have learned wisdom from two books.

The Big Book says "No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we can see how our experience can benefit others."

The Big Big Big Book says "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort that we ourselves have been comforted by God. "

And it's from my own experience, informed by these sources (and others), and not some academic program or seminar,  that I offer up these words to you.  I hope you find something of value here; perhaps for yourself, perhaps for others. If you have found it meaningful, won't you please put a comment below? It encourages me, you see. 

Peace be on your household.

A minor change in travel plans

 

No, Alicia Ann is not driving.

Yet.

A week or so ago, we discovered that the reason that the air conditioning in the Suburban has gone out twice is that the compressor is busted. And to fix it,  needs a new compressor, accumulator, and orifice tube, @$602.47.

Summer is over, we don't have THAT many hot days, I don't drive the Suburban much anyway, there are plenty of other things we can do with the money, let's just put that off until spring. No problem.

Except that we REALLY don't have another car that is comfy and trustworthy for long trips. Vanessa's Toyota Corolla and Tobhiyah's Hyundai Excel are GREAT commuter cars, get there and back with no big fuel expense, but a 350 mile trip? One way? Barely doable, not preferred. The Suburban is GREAT, it's like sitting in your living room. But a trip at this time of year, with the humidity from the hurricane, and no air conditioning? Not going to end well. Sure, we used to do that all the time. But, that was because there were no options.

No problem. I've had to rent cars before when one of the vehicles was down. I got this. I'll pick up the vehicle today, we'll leave at O'Dark:30 in the morning. Nope. to my dismay, I could NOT arrange for a rental yesterday. I even went in person to Enterprise, but: no cars. 

And in checking all of the other locations, from Canton to Marietta: no cars. Maybe the internet was lying to me , but even in person, I had to put my name on a waiting list. (which bore no fruit.)

My gift-from-God, happily-ever-after trophy wife Vanessa, the elegant, foxy, praying black grandmother of Woodstock, GA, promptly skunked me when she got home from work, and got a vehicle from Avis. And I resembled a dork.

So, this morning, I drove them to Avis, conveniently located next to our Goodwill, and did the paperwork. And,  at 11:00, she and Tobhiyah climbed into a brand new Jeep Wrangler, and headed up to High Point. If you see them in your rear view mirror, I'd take the next exit, if I were you.

I stopped by the store on the way home, and bought ribs, chicken, and popsicles. Dry rub and slow roast. Comfort food.

Wish I could send some comfort food along with them. As it was, prayers and blessings were the best comfort I could provide. Would you send along some of them as well?

Peace be on your household.

A Mother's Tribute to Kole and Nehemiah

Jodi Johnson is Kole's mother, and, for the last two years, was Another Mother to Nehemiah as well.

She wrote this beautiful tribute to both young men, and posted it yesterday. I can't think of anything else that would better serve to speak of their love for life, for friends, and for each other. With her permission, I post this here.

Peace be on your household - Papa Pat

**********

Kole came to me on a Sunday night in the Fall of 2002. And Kole left me on a Sunday night in the Fall of 2020. He followed his best friend, Nehemiah Pratt, to heaven after a great weekend hanging out together with their group of friends.

Kole was on his way to drop Nehemiah at home and then head home himself around 8:10 when they were struck in an intersection by a car traveling at ultra-high speeds. They passed away, together there.

Kole was my only child, just me and him, for a long time. We had a terrific life together the two of us. He was my reason for living and for working hard so we could play hard. He was my good times. When we met Jeff and became a family, Kole stretched his heart and made room for us all.

He was a loud, active, fun loving guy all his life long.

He was a fantastic athlete while he played sports. He loved children. He was better at playing and understanding children than I could ever hope to be.

Kole's passion for helping the homeless was one of his better kept secrets since he was a young kid. He would befriend folks around town panhandling, give them his shoes, buy them a meal when he had a bit of money on him. He often reminded me to do the same.

Kole loved a fairly simple life. Passionate about history and social justice, he took stands on issues and challenged me regularly. Kole helped me grow as a person in so many ways. He made me into me.

He had a hard time accepting love and he often questioned the love of those around him. But he loved those who loved him. He tested us regularly to make sure it was there. And I hope he always found it us when he sought it out.

Kole had several close friends during the chapters of his life. These past few years he had found his place in a group of friends he called “The Boys.” They spent the summer together golfing, fishing, sitting around the fire, cooking out, talking about life, and being afraid for the future. Though there were things he looked forward to about adulthood, my baby was not yet ready to grow up. He was not sure what he wanted to do with his life. But he knew he wanted to spend it with his friends. And he did.

Kole always told me he would die young. He kind of liked to razz me up by telling me he would not live past 18. He told his aunt the same and his girlfriend told me the other night he upset her with the same. But in reality, somehow Kole knew he wasn’t long for this world.

My heart has a 10-mile hole down the center of it right now. Kole brought Nehemiah into our family two years ago. Nehemiah became a son to me too. He was a loving young man with a good heart. He was quiet with a strong sense of humor who had faith in people and living and letting live. Nehemiah and I shared many cups of coffee over these past years. It was our special thing to do – make coffee and sit side by side for a little chat and reading our phones. Nehemiah valued loyalty and devotion above all else. He loved his family and he loved us. And we love him.

Kole and Nehemiah were great big brothers. They would both do anything for Sophia. And she thinks the world of them.

I am devastated to lose them both. I hoped for many good times all together in the coming years. I hoped for so much for both of them.

The greatest comfort we find right now is knowing that they had a good day with their closest friends followed by a quick death by the side of their best friend. Death is often something we each face alone. Nehemiah and Kole were so so very blessed to die with each other. G*d bless them and give them the greatest peace wrapped in our love.

Go play boys. Play and have a blast! Mama loves you both.

Grieving for Nehemiah

Kole Norris                     Nehemiah Pratt

I don’t know how it happened that my gift-from-God, happily-ever-after trophy wife Vanessa, the elegant, foxy, praying black grandmother of Woodstock, GA was extended the privilege, but she is the one who named her nephew “Nehemiah.” 

 On Sunday, September 13, 2020, at a little after 8 PM, Nehemiah Pratt, and his friend and roommate Kole Norris, were killed in a traffic accident in High Point, North Carolina. Their car was struck by another car on the city streets. Police estimate the other vehicle was traveling 80 – 100 mph. 

 According to the news article, both Nehemiah and Kole were 18 years old. I’m pretty sure Nehemiah had just turned 19, and from the little I can find about Kole, he might have been a bit older as well, but one thing is true: death came too soon. 

 Don’t try to make sense out of this one. It doesn’t MAKE sense. As far as I am able to determine, Kole and Nehemiah weren’t doing anything wrong. They weren’t engaging in any reckless conduct. They just happened to be at an intersection when another person’s reckless behavior cost them their lives. 

 And all the people who loved Kole are now in pain, and all the people who loved Nehemiah are in pain, and there is no making sense out of it. 

We get no sense of peace by pointing fingers at the driver or passengers in the other car. This was not a planned act of aggression. Nobody meant for Nehemiah and Kole to die; it just happened. 

 So, what do we do with this big, gaping wound in our lives? 

Right now, immediately, we grieve over the loss. 

We grieve for these two young men, and for all the experiences they will never have. 

We grieve for ourselves, who are left on this planet in sorrow and pain and emptiness. 

We grieve for each other, because there are mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters, and cousins, and each of us has suffered a great loss, through no fault of our own. 

So, first, we grieve. 

That’s going to take a long time. 

It will take some much longer than others. Right now, for those closest to these two young men, it seems that the grief is overwhelming, and that there will never be any more happiness and peace. That’s not true, by the way, but it seems to be true at the moment. 

In the old days, a full year was dedicated to the grieving process, and I find value in that. 

For some, it might not take as long, and for some, it will take longer; but, a year is a good place to start.

 

Then what? 

 Then, we start trying to make some sense out of this. Then, we start asking “WHY?” 

 Not now! It’s far too early to be asking ‘why’ now, because we MUST allow the pain to teach us the truth of our loss. 

 And it’s also too early to be asking ‘why’ because these ARE senseless deaths. Trying to find meaning NOW will only cause us more pain; unnecessary pain; unhelpful pain. 

 Even so, we can prepare ourselves for that question. 

We MUST understand that when the time comes around, that there are (at least) TWO different interpretations on the question “WHY?” 

The first interpretation of the question “Why did Kole and Nehemiah die” is “What was the cause of Kole and Nehemiah’s death?” 

Let me give you some very important information: we already know how to answer that question, and it does not satisfy the pain in our souls one bit. 

 What was the cause of Kole and Nehemiah’s death? Somebody else was driving 80-100 miles per hour on city streets, and they lost control, and ran into them. 

 Absolutely true. Absolutely useless. Yes, at first, we look for all the details, trying to understand, but it’s a losing proposition. The answer to that interpretation of the question NEVER satisfies. 

 It’s the second interpretation of the question that matters. 

The second interpretation of the question “Why did Kole and Nehemiah die” is “What does the death of Kole and Nehemiah MEAN?” Or, “What is the SIGNIFICANCE of their deaths?” 

Please, please, please do NOT try to answer that right away! If you do, you are liable to get stuck with some silly religious talk about how God needed His special angels, or the unseen plan, or something New Age and goofy. I don’t think anybody ever got blessed by those answers. In fact, every time I’ve heard that bit about God wanting His special angels, I thought, “GREAT. You just gave this person a reason to be mad at God.” 

There are stories about the ancient Greek/Roman/Celtic/Norse gods acting that way, but not the God of the Bible. 

 But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t an answer to that question. 

There IS an answer to that question. 

And you are going to have to find that for yourself. How are you going to know you found it? 

It’s by the way you complete this sentence, in three months, or six months, or a year or two: 

“Because of the death of Nehemiah and Kole, I __________________________.” 

And that’s what their death will mean. You find it that way, and, you get to DECIDE what goes in the blank:

 “Because of the death of Nehemiah and Kole, I will never love another person as long as I live.” And then, that will be what their deaths mean. 

 “Because of the death of Nehemiah and Kole, I will make sure that I never leave home without telling my family that I love them.” And then, that will be what their deaths mean. 

“Because of the death of Nehemiah and Kole, I now volunteer to work with people who have been incarcerated for reckless driving.” And then, THAT will be what their deaths mean. 

And, as you might guess, it might change over time; it might mean more than one thing. 

But, this is the ONLY part where you are in control. 

None of us can control the past, and we only have the most feeble grasp on the present and future, but we DO have the ability to control how we will respond. 

 I’m not there yet. I have some more grieving to do, by myself and with others. 

But, based on the little bit I know about these two young men, I have a glimmer of what I WANT to choose. 

I want to believe that my wife was inspired by God, when she named him Nehemiah. 

Do you know what Nehemiah did in the Bible? He found the walls of Jerusalem all broken down, and he built them back up. 

Not by himself! He inspired other people to do it, too. 

 Does anyone NOT know that our country seems to be on the brink of insanity right now? Political tension, racial tension, small businesses struggling, and worries about epidemics. 

 And what does Nehemiah do, when he finds his country all broken down, with riots and killing? He builds it up. With a white friend and roommate. 

 THAT’S A NEHEMIAH ACT! 

 And by the way: Kole wasn’t his first name. His first name: Joshua. That name means “The Lord Delivers.” 

I know almost NOTHING about this young man, but I do know that he made some positive, affirmative statements. 

I know people loved him. 

I know that this white kid and this black kid hung together. 

 THAT’S A JOSHUA ACT. 

 So, what I HOPE I will be able to say, in three months, six months, a year, whenever, is: 

 “Because of the death of Nehemiah and Kole, I am determined that I will be committed to love, and committed to evaluating people on the content of their character, and not the color of their skin. 

I will open my life and my home to my brothers and sisters. 

I will be a Nehemiah. 

I will be a Joshua.” 

 Peace be on your household.

Last Night, I Flew to Macon to Meet My Dad

In my dream, he was still alive and vital, and I was looking forward to showing him that I had gotten my pilot's license. He flew commercial for decades, and when he made the Final Take-Off, on a Wing and a Prayer, he had 28,000+ hours in his log-book.

For some reason, I was transporting two unruly children to a facility near his house, and I  planned to go by and see him after dropping them off. It didn't work out, though; you know how dreams go.

Ralph & Bebe Wedding Day, 1958

It was good to think about seeing my dad again. He wasn't my bio-father, but he took up those duties when I was five years old.

Perhaps it's because I'm now 65, and he passed shortly after his 67th birthday, but I've had occasion to think of him recently. His last few years were not healthy; that's what genetics will do for ya. His own father was 56, I believe, when he passed.

Would you want to have that information available to you before choosing a mate? The dating websites ask for some information, but it seems to me that family medical history would be a nice thing to know, before walking down the aisle together.

NOTE: the sole purpose of this blog post is to see if I can get a few comments.

Peace be on your household.

Going Fishing as an Alternative to Dying Inside

Greetings, Friends and Neighbors and Family out there in Internet Land!

In the natural course of things, we all encounter pain. Physical pain is something I am familiar with, but it deserves its' own separate post, if not a SERIES of posts. This post is about the mental/emotional/spiritual pain that we experience, and it's just as inevitable as the physical kind. Whether it's a result of Happenings, or neuro-chemistry gone bad, we all have to deal with it somehow, or we withdraw from others and die inside.

One guy decided to deal with it by going fishing.

John 21:3  Simon Peter said, “I’m going fishing.”

Jesus meets with Peter, John, & company on the shore, in the same way that He had met them when He first called them. Up to this point, Peter hadn't seen Jesus after the Resurrection, and he was discouraged. So he goes back to doing what he knew how to do, before Jesus had called him: fishing.

Consider: He's riding on top, one of Jesus' closest friends, then all of a sudden, right when Jesus gets acclaim in riding into Jerusalem, it all turns to ashes.

Peter tells the story from this point:

"To make it worse, I deny Him, and Jesus knows it, and I knows He knows it because He had told me I was going to do it. And when He did, I acted really brave, and boasted that I would NEVER do that. Then I did it, and Jesus knows, and then they beat Him, and then they kill Him, and it's horrible. Bam. End of story. The promise of great triumphs is gone, and I'm crushed, smashed, just about destroyed.

"So, I do the only thing I have left: I go back to being a fisherman. I'm not even important enough to be a criminal. I'm just a lousy old fisherman, with a stinky boat and a stinky net. And to make matters worse, me and the boys fish all night, and don't catch anything.

"The emptiness, the grief, is almost enough for me to throw myself in the sea and drown myself. Not only can't I be a disciple, not only can't I be brave enough to stand up and say I'm a follower, I can't even catch fish anymore.

"I can't even catch a single, stinky, slimy fish. Me. Big, Bad, tough Peter. The Rock. Yeah. Some rock I turned out to be. If we weren't so close to shore, I'd jump overboard, and then I'd be a rock, all right, down to the bottom, with the slime where I belong.

"And then, when I've accepted the fact that I'm a failure at this, too, and we are headed back to shore, and I've never felt worse in my life, we hear a voice coming from the beach. It's not bad enough that I have to fail at this, but I've got an audience.

"But there's something about that voice... and it moves me. It reminds me of the first time when Jesus told me to cast my net on the other side, and I got kind of huffy about some carpenter preacher telling me how to fish. But THIS time, when the voice tells me to toss the net out on the other side, I don't complain, 'Look, I've been working hard all night, and I'm a fisherman, and I know what I'm doing, but if You say so, I'll do it.'

"Nope. I don't say anything at all, but the sweat has suddenly dried on my face, and my hands are trembling, and me and the boys toss the net out on the other side of the boat, just like we did all those years ago, and SHAZAM! The net is full of fish! And I can't move, I can't think, I can't even breathe, until John says "it's the Lord!" and then I'm so full of energy that I grab up my tunic and jump in the water, because I've got to get to Him, I've got to find Him, and tell Him I'm sorry, and I've got to do it right NOW! I can't wait for the boat, I don't care about the boat, or the fish, or even the other guys, I've got to go fall at His feet and cry my heart out, because I've been such a failure.

"I won't tell you exactly what happened in the time between me making it to shore, and the the boat making it to shore. That's between me and Him. But I will tell you that He made me a man again.

"And not just a man, but His disciple. And a guy who wasn't ever going to lie about it, not ever again.
He already had breakfast ready for us: fish and bread. How many meals had we had with Him over the years that were fish and bread? He could take a few pieces of fish and bread, and feed thousands of people.

"But that's not what He did this time. He told me to go get some of the fish that I had caught. So I did. I had to go help the other guys haul in the nets: 153 big fish, largest catch ever, and the net didn't break, and the boat didn't sink.

"You know, Jesus could have fed us all with the fish and bread He already had on the fire, but He didn't. He wanted to add some of what I caught. So I got out my knife, and cut a few fillets, and gave them to Him, and he cooked them too. Jesus could have fed us with what He already had, but He asked me to give Him some of what I had caught, fish I caught because He made it happen. But do you get it? He let me make a contribution! He was telling me that I wasn't worthless, not as a fisherman, and not as a disciple. I don't know if you can imagine what a change that was for me, in just a few minutes. One minute I'm a failure, the next minute, Jesus wants my contribution; He wants me to use my skills to feed the guys, when He could have fed the world with no help from me at all.

"He talked with me some more, and I have to admit that at the moment, it hurt my feelings when He asked me three different times if I loved Him. Of course I answered yes, all three times, but the third time, I said, 'Lord, You know all things, You know I love You.'

"And it was about then that I realized that He really did know all things, and that He had asked me three times, because before, in the courtyard that night before they killed Him, I had said I didn't even know Him three times; and it hit me that even then, when I was denying Him, He knew that I really did love Him.

"And besides asking me to give Him some of the fish I'd caught, He gave me another job: Feed His lambs, and take care of and feed His sheep. Just like He had wanted me to give Him some fish that He could have provided Himself, He was telling me that He trusted me enough to do some more things for Him.

"Then He asked me to go for a walk on the beach with Him. So I got up, and we started on the walk, and I saw John was coming along. I asked Jesus if He wanted John to come too, and I guess it must have shown that I was bugged a little bit, because I wanted some more alone time with Him, but He set me straight. He told me that it wasn't any of my business, basically. What He said was, 'Look, if I want John to hang around until I come back, what is it to you? You need to do what I tell you to do, and don't worry about what I tell other people to do, and what I'm telling you is, FOLLOW ME!'

"Sometimes I have to be told things extra times. He told me I was a rock, after all, and sometimes it's my faith, but sometimes it's my brains that are like a rock.

"I'm not going to tell you what He told me on the walk on the beach, either. John says that if we tried to write down everything Jesus said, we'd run out of paper. That's true, but it's also true that sometimes what He said was private; and that's what that last walk on the beach was like.

"One thing He did tell me is that they are going to kill me for following Him. That's pretty spooky, but He said it wasn't going to happen until I get old, so it's nothing I'm going to worry about until then; except that since I know it's going to happen, you can bet I'm going to make sure that they have a really, really good reason for doing it.

"If I'm going to die because I'm one of His boys, then you betcha I'm gonna make sure they have lots and lots of evidence to convict me. And you can bet I'm going to be kicking up some sand in their faces until then. Yeah, they'll get me in the end, but until that happens, the Rock is going to roll. "