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I have lived in Cambodia for nearly 12 years, but had never visited the ruins of Angkor Wat until only recently. I didn’t think I would get that much out of it but it was actually quite an enjoyable experience and I am glad I went to see it. The fact that I was with an old friend and her daughter perhaps had a great deal to do with my ability to enjoy the trip. I am not much of a tourist normally but being with a friend, especially one that you have not seen for 35 years, gives added pleasures in sharing both old and new experiences at the same time. Her name was Anna but I knew her as Sally and our story begins in a honky-tonk bar along Route 66, in the city limits of Gallup, New Mexico.
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Before I can tell you about that first meeting however, I must back up to an incident that took place one year prior to our meeting. This excerpt is taken from the story MY JOURNEY . “Work became my escape from reality. I spent more time on duty than off and volunteered to work on all of the Holidays. On one weekend I worked the night duty and was scheduled to work again Sunday afternoon. My relief called and said she had overslept and would be there in about a half an hour. It was slow so I told her to take her time. I went down the hall and punched her time card so that no one would know. She came in and I gave my report and than we got to talking about something when all of a sudden I jumped up and told her I had to go, but would see her in the afternoon. I started for home but when I got to the expressway, for some unknown reason I continued on the country road, which added at least another 15 minutes to the 40 miles journey. The skies were cloudy and grey with a slight drizzle at times, quite typical for Michigan; one of the reasons I often thought about leaving it. I couldn’t find anything good on the radio and so drove in pensive silence toward home. The country road ended at a rather confusing intersection in Grandville where a few months earlier a good friend of mine had been involved in an accident and totaled his car. I thought about him and wondered how he was doing. A station wagon was stopped for the light on my left-hand side and as I pulled up I could see that the children were dressed for church. It had been a while since I had gone; church and religion just didn’t seem that important to me, after returning from Viet Nam. I smiled at the children as they waved at me and wished I could return to the carefree life of a child. The light turned green and I sped out, squealing the tires on the damp pavement. “Are you okay?” one of the several bystanders said as he rushed past my car. “Who...me?” I asked, somewhat confused, as I looked out and saw the twisted metal that had been the front of my car, protruding in different directions like some modern art sculpture. I got out but felt a pain in my left side. I went over to where the crowd was standing and saw a badly damaged Volkswagen Bug in the ditch; a young girl of about twenty years was lying in the front seat. She was unconscious and there was blood dripping from her ear, an almost sure sign of brain hemorrhage. I could hear the sound of sirens and soon the whole place was engulfed in a sea of red flashing lights. I was stunned as I sat in the police car and answered their questions. The driver of the other car admitted he must have fallen asleep and ran the red light so there was nothing more they needed from me. The girl died a few hours later in the hospital and even though I was not at fault legally, I was devastated because the death could not have occurred without me and therefore I was just as responsible as the other driver. What confused me more however was the realization that the dream I had had of my sister’s accident and the death I saw behind her, now made sense. I had seen both accidents in one dream...” After the accident my life continued in a down hill slide and nearly ended a few months later in a lonely hotel room in Casa Grande, Arizona. An Experience that I can only describe as “Spiritual” however, put me on a new path and I eventually found myself in Gallup, New Mexico, working with Navajo Indian Youth. I buried the memories deep inside of me... and that is where they would have stayed had I had my way with things. But then one night, in a deserted little bar, thousands of miles from the scene of the accident, it all resurfaced. Lorraine was a large-black woman with an Afro twice the size of her head. She often wore a black eye patch to cover an injury she got while being natural in a Pine forest. Because of her size and aggressiveness, people often assumed she was masculine but that did not seem to affect her any; she was who she was. Lorraine and I were the Co-Founders of the Ford Canyon Youth Center, a program for street kids in Gallup, New Mexico. Saturday night was the climax of our weekly program and we would usually go out for a beer after cleaning up. She introduced me to Sally Kruis before the program and asked if it would be all right for her to accompany us afterwards. I told her I would have no problem with it. Sally was a teacher and her interest was in working with disadvantaged youth. She was quiet that evening, while Lorraine was her usual talkative self, controlling much of the conversation. I don’t usually feel it necessary to compete when drinking beer but when ever I was with Lorraine something prevented me from thinking rationally. She ordered me my forth beer and then began telling us about her abusive father. I am a counselor and so I enjoy listening to the stories of others but seldom talk about myself. Her story ended abruptly and then she turned the spotlight on me. “What’s your story, Wayne?” “Yes,” Sally added, “tell us something about your life Wayne... what brought you to this place in time?” I knew exactly where I didn’t want the conversation to go, but the more I tried to avoid it, the harder it was to ignore it and suddenly there it was... all out there on the table. I finished telling the story of the accident without breaking down but felt completely naked in doing so. “Do you remember the girl’s name?” Sally asked, after a moment of silence. “No.” I answered, “I have blocked most of that from my memory.” “Her name was Karen.” she responded, incredulously. “She was my dear friend and roommate in collage,” and with a slight quiver in her voice, she added, “and now you know my story.” She then told us how Karen had told her, just before leaving the room that she knew her boyfriend was going to propose to her that night on the beach... but she was also excited because she felt God had something even greater in store for her and she was ready for what ever that was. This was just what I needed to hear at that point in my life and those words gave me the strength I needed to continue my journey. We lost track of each other over the years but I have told this story more then a few times since that night... the last time being not so long ago here in Phnom Penh. After telling it to a friend , I went into an internet cafe to check my e-mail account and decided to Google Sally Kruis again. I had done so many times before, but without success. This time the link brought me to Anna Redsand, an award winning author and as I began reading the biography I realized she was the Sally I had once known. We began corresponding and realized that we had both traveled similar paths in life… and so in November of 2008, Anna came with her daughter Cheyenne for a visit. The trip to Angkor Wat was something I had wanted to do before but the time just never seemed right. Anna’s visit however, was partly to interview me as a possible subject in one of the Chapters of her new book about Missionaries, which required some private time, and so it seemed like a good time for me to go… since private time is not something one gets a lot of here in the Community. Anna did a great job of documenting her visit here and in just a minute I will give you the link to her story… but before I do, let me say that her visit here was very special for me because she is one who understands being raised in a strict Christian environment, similar to the one I was raised in… and she also understands the difficulties in leaving it and your family behind, in order to pursue a more Universal system of Beliefs, as I have chosen to do. For that reason she could affirm, like few others can, that what I have done in my life is not an act of defiance from a wayward child but is in fact a natural progression of a Spiritual Journeyer. Thank you Anna for giving me strength once again to continue my Journey. To read Anna’s Live Journal account of her visit to Cambodia CLICK HERE To view Anna’s Live Journal Blog CLICK HERE To view Anna Redsand’s Web-site CLICK HERE RETURN TO WAYNE DALE MATTHYSSE
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