A number of celebrity suicides have been in the news lately. As a Christian, suicide is not an option for me, but who am I to judge? I was talking with my daughter, Anne, this evening and mentioned an episode that happened to a man I knew years ago. “You should write about that,” she said. I said that I would. Not to make me look good but to show what an influence you can have on another of God's children. Sometimes there are warning signs and sometimes there are not. There was this time. Here goes.

It was in the early '80s that I was working in a machine shop that made water de-salting units and heavy duty ice freezing machines for commerce and the U.S. Navy. I had been eliminated from the position I had been working at and transferred to the unit wiring the electrical panels that controlled those big machines. The man who taught me how to do it did not like women in his department. Oh well, I was there. He had to put up with me. We were not friends.

A short time later, in the recession that enveloped our nation at the time, I was recommended for a position with a Department of Labor project working with Displaced Workers writing resumes and counseling job applicants. The factory had closed. This was where I ran into my former instructor. He had tried looking for work on his own with no results. His unemployment had run out and he was destitute. I provided him with food from our Labor Food Bank and prepared a resume for him.

I then drove him home from my office to where he lived on the shores of a nearby lake. He showed me how he could walk out to the end of his dock, lay down, and put his hands in the water. Wow! The water was instantly marked with hundreds of fins, bluegills. He fed them saltines every day. When they saw his hand in the water, they anticipated another feeding time. It was something to see.

A few weeks later he was back in my office. He wasn't as animated or worried about the future as before. As I sat there trying to understand what was going on in his life, he made a startling statement, “Tonight, I will be with my fishes.” “Oh, no, you won't” was my response. I reached for the phone and called a friend at the local Red Cross. My former co-worker was a veteran of World War II. I asked for the number of the Fort Custer Hospital in nearby Battle Creek.

I called the number and explained the situation as he sat there drinking a cup of coffee. They told me that the hospital was at capacity and there was no way they could see him. He could go on their waiting list. “ No you don't” I replied. If you don't take him, tonight he will be with the fishes in Gillette's Lake.” After a pause, she said, ”Bring him on.”

I took charge of the situation, not letting him return home for a change of clothes. In my little red Buick, we quickly went onto the highway. We reminisced along the way about the times we had had at our former jobs. When we arrived, I walked with him up to the front desk. They took him back to be processed.

A couple years later, when I was working at a department store in security, he showed up with a bouquet of flowers and a card to wish me farewell. He expressed his gratitude for the help I had given him. My advice to you is to pay attention to those around you. Many people are hurting today. We have an obligation to help our fellow man. Pay attention.