The Boy Next Door Part 1

My parents moved into the house I grew up in when I was two years old. It was that summer I met Harlan, the boy next door, he was six months older than I, and he always seemed like my brother. Some of the first memories I have are of me playing with Harlan in the front yard.

Harlan had two brothers Randall and Mason; they were much older than we were, just as my brother and sister were 8 and 10 years older than me. I remember Randall playing with us, he was a big brother who loved his little brother and Harlan loved him most of all.

I was six when Randall was shot in the back with a 22 caliber pellet. It was a one in a million shot that lodged in his mid spine paralyzing him from the chest down. A short time latter they removed both of his legs as gangrene set in. I watched Harlan struggle with what was happening to his brother. I remember us crying together and I told him maybe Santa would bring Randall new legs; Santa didn’t come that year.

Comments

[Tony Dye]

I'm not sure I want to see part 2!

[Ed Buford]

It never gets any better... in fact it gets worse, but now there's no one else left to tell the story... you might want to skip it.

[Brian Marquis]

Ed,

Events like this are what shape and mold our character. It's where Christianity hits the streets and impacts real lives.

The story of how you managed to cope with the devastating effects of this tragedy and find your way back to a loving God is of tremendous value.

I'm looking forward to the rest of the article.