In the spring of '89' I was recovering from what I refer to as the 'Job(e) Syndrome';
Over a relatively short period of time I was bombarded with one calamity after another, my VW windshield was smashed by a free falling railroad gaurd, a song called 'girl friend' was stolen from our band, which later appeared on Boby Brown's platnum 'Don't be cruel' album;
I was compelled to disbandon my band, I received my first speeding tickets (three back to back), my appendix burst, and I was rushed into ER, the morning I came home from the hospital my boss showed up at my door and gave me an ultimatum to either quit, or be fired!
That same evening my room mate told me she no longer needed me to help her cover the rent, then gave me a two week notice. all this took place over the space of one month (give or take a week).
Overwhelmed by the experience, I was determined to get some answers, and I was not going to attempt to resume my life until I got them, clinically speaking this is referred to as PTSD, but for me it was nothing more than a 'Reality Check' disguised as a 'Rude Awakening':
At any rate, I went out and purchased 5 note books, and titled each one accordingly, 'Who, Where, When, Why and How':
My goal was ludecrous, I was going to attempt to systematically formulate every grammatical question that I could imagine, then I was going to attempt to answer them one by one; I was being greedy, for I did not want a few answers, I wanted them all:
Honestly, can you imagine trying to pick yourself up and dust yourself off after taking a hit like that? without first having some kind of assurance that this kind of thing doesn't reoccur?
Even a scriptural illiterate such as I was understood how dissapointment could potentially be lethal.
Proverbs 13:12
Hope deferred [i.e., dissapointment] makes the heart sick: but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life.
Five months later I was still plugging away at my new plight, but sadly had gotten virtually no where, but that did not faze me, once I set my mind to something there was nothing that could detour me... except Divine intervention.
Then one day I took my note books into the bedroom, and I jumped up, and plopped onto the bed, and when I landed my head lightly knocked up against the back board, and that is when I heard a voice, and it said, 'Why don't you write a letter to your father?'.
I was 26 years old and had never met my biological father before, so I replied to the voice, I don't even know if he is alive, let alone know where, or how to locate him!
Then the voice said, 'What about Karen?'.
No sooner than the words were spoken I received a vivid memory, I was leaning over Karen, and massaging her shoulders gently, and asking her, what are you doing? and she replied, I'm writting a letter to my father! I then gave her a kiss on her forehead, and said, Well let me not disturb you', then returned to my musical composition.
It didn't even dawn on me till I sat down to play the organ, that her dad had passed some time ago; so when the voice said, 'What about Karen?', instantly, I realized my father did not have to be alive for me to write him a letter.
[Please bear with me/this pre-explanation](Maternally), I am the middle of five boys; at birth I received my last name from the father of my two eldest brothers, and I received my first, and middle name from the father of my two youngest brothers, but instead of Leslie Steven (Pondela), I was born Steven Leslie (Delpiano).
Throughout my youth I saw my brothers come and go interacting with their biological fathers, either visiting, or living with them for extended periods; It was my own little secret fantasy, that one day, I could meet my own biological dad;
So you can see why I was so excited at the notion of communicating with my dad; (please let me clarify, for those who may be alarmed, this was by no means an attempt to speak with the dead, that would have been a little too creepy for someone like me).
Upon hearing the words, 'What about Karen?', I quickly turned my note book to a blank page, and commenced writing, and I didn't stop till I got to the bottom of the page; just as I was flipping the page to continue, the voice spoke again, and said,
'Why don't you read what you have first', and so I turned the page back to read what I had written.
I was shocked! before me was a dump list i.e., ' Annually, we had the father and son pancake breakfasts at school, but you were not there.
When my brothers fathers would pick them up for the weekend, a ball game, or a camping trip, I was left behind, and you were not there.
I received my first (art) scholarship offer when I was twelve years old, but mom couldn't afford the $50 registration fee, and you were not there.
You would be so proud of me, my first time on stage playing the saxaphone, I receieved a standing ovation in the middle of my performance, but you weren't there. (etc.)
I could not believe my eyes, I thought I was going to say, nothing but good things, but instead I wrote a sad song called, 'and you were not there'.
As I stood in shock staring at the letter, the voice said unto me, 'What about Joe?'.
I took one last glance at the paper, and realized that my stepfather 'Joseph' had performed (for me) everything that was on my dump list, and then some.
Instantly, as if it were a cloud over my head was lifted, and I knew for a certainty that I was speaking to our Divine Author, our true Father;
That is when I lost it, I mean, I never cried so hard in all my life, but not for joy, though the occasion would soon call for it, I cried out of shame,
for I had accused my heavenly Father of not providing me with a father (figure) here on earth, when in reality I had one of the best; I was so ashamed, all I could do was beg for his forgiveness.
Then something very strange, and peculiar happened (as I was milking out the last of my tears), I noticed my hand was on the door knob, and it wasn't because I desired to leave the room, nor was I using it to lean upon, so I retracted my hand and arm and resumed with my plea.
Again, and again I found my hand on the door Knob, until finally it dawned on me, that I was being taken by the hand, and I was being gently encouraged to comply, and so I said, (as if I were talking to a friend),
'O.k., hold on a minute, first let me dry my eyes', and after I had done so haphazardly, I opened the door and began walking down the hallway toward the living room.
When I stepped into the living room I stopped, and before I could express my bewilderment, I found myself stooping down, and my hand reached out and grabbed a public phone book that was on a bottom shelf, I then stood upright again, and as I looked at the cover of the phone book I said,
'I guess..I'm going to.. look up..my father?':
And at that moment, my head was slightly thrown back as when one is gently pushed from behind, yet the force came from within, and I found myself walking to the kitchen table where I sat down and opened the phone book, and began to look up what I beleived to be my dad's name, Larry Ellis.
When I turned to the appropriate page I saw only three possible phone numbers, after dialling them and receiving no answers, I sighed, then the voice spoke, and said, 'Perhaps you will have better luck if you were to select from the next page'.
But when I looked up and down the page all I saw was an entire column of Lawrence Ellisons, again I sighed, and looked back at the first three numbers that I had dialed and received no answer, then the voice said,
'You know! (the name)'Larry' is short for 'Lawerence".
So I looked again, but there was not one Lawrence Ellis on the page to be found, sigh!, then the voice said,
'When your mother revealed unto you your fathers name, didn't she hesitate when she got to the last name?',
I was slightly flustered by the question, and began to say, 'How in the world am I supposed to remember...': That's when my words were cut off, and again I received a vivid memory,
I could see me running into my mothers room and jumping onto her bed, and I asked her, saying, 'Mom! what's my dads name again', and I could see her turn and answer me, saying, 'His name is Larry Ellisa...(mumbling at the end, as if she wasn't quite sure).
Then from the top of the page I began to dial, and just like my first three attempts no one answered their phones, until I got to the third phone number where a woman answered; honestly, I had no idea what to say, or how to proceed.
Nevertheless, I began to speak, and I said, May I speak to Lawernce Ellison please! and she said, 'He is not here at the moment. May I ask who is calling?', I replied,
'My name is Steven Ellis, and I'm trying to find a friend I haven't seen in years, maybe you can tell me if I have the right Lawerence... (pause, silence),
I know that he is Afro-American, and over six feet tall..., and..that he is a musician that plays the piano..., he made a 45 (record) back in the early 60's..., I also know that he has a daughter approximately 27 years old who has either a hearing or sight empediment..., do you know if that might be him?
And the woman was very kind, yet would neither confirm or deny if the discription matched, she replied,
'He should be here shortly, and he is real good when it comes to returning his calls, so if you leave your name, and number I am sure he will get back with you'.
So I gave her my name, and phone number, then as an after thought, I said, Oh yeah, we had a mutual friend, that might help ring a bell, her name is Laurie, and I'm not sure if she went by her married name 'Delpiano', or Evans, her maiden name.
It was arround seven, or eight in the evening, so I asked if he might return my call tonight, and she said, 'He will more than likely return your call in the morning'.
After I thanked her, and hung up the phone, I could not shake the notion, how she never confirmed or denied any of the discriptions, even though I paused in between each discription to give her the oppotunity to reply;
I remember thinking, she might never divulge that it was him, but what was her reason for not saying, Oh no! that couldn't be him, surely she would have said so, if one of my discriptions were inaccurate.
Two hours later he returned my call, and the turkey made me go through the whole shabang again, i.e., are you Afro-American and...,
however this time when I paused between each discription, he answered, 'I sure am', or 'I sure did/do', then I added one last question...
Do you know you are speaking to your son, and he said, 'I sure do, how are you?'
I threw the phone in the air, jumped backwards onto the bed and began screaming for joy, legs kicking and all. I guess you can say, I lost it twice that day.
He asked me if I was available to meet him the next day over lunch, and of course I told him yes, then he asked me to call him at a certain time to confirm when and where;
but when the time came for me to call him the next day, I could not find his name in any of the phone books that were on the shelf, then I saw the white phone book, the one that only contains the names and numbers of buisnesses, and sure enough there is where I found him.
Though my dad lived three cities away from me, he was working only two miles away from my residence (when I first made the call and spoke to his wife Dianne), in the 'Laurel District' of east Oakland.
The following day he was knocking on the door (at the appointed time), and when I opened the door I stood back, and my friend just stood in amazement as my dad and I just stared at each other for a moment before embracing.
As we drove off there was a brief silence, and as we approached the stop sign at the end of my block we slowed down, and then the voice spoke again, and said,
'You were looking for all the Who, Where, When, Why, and Hows, if you were to know all the Who, Where, When, Why, and Hows, then you....?
Due to the inflection of the voice speaking to me, I understood he expected me to fill in the blank, therefore I said,
'Then you would know everthing', and then the voice said,
'And if you were to know everthing then...?',
and I replied, 'Then you would have to be God!', then the voice replied,
'You were looking for me, and now I give you...'
Isaiah 65:1
I AM sought of them that asked not for me; I am found of them that sought me not: I said, Behold me, behold me, unto a nation that was not called by my name.
I am sorry, but the remaining words were both private, and amazing, and I feel it would not be aporopriate for me to divulge the remaining content with just anyone at anytime, (yet it is something I am permitted to share with certain individuals, at what might appear to be the right moment in my eyes), lest if I broadcast it, and someone feel, that I think more of myself than what I am.
Well ladies and gentlemen, that was just 'part one' to how I recieved my (wake up) call (-ing).
When I get another moment to jot in my memoirs I'll be more than happy to share 'part two' with you. Give praise! for his name is worthy!
Over a relatively short period of time I was bombarded with one calamity after another, my VW windshield was smashed by a free falling railroad gaurd, a song called 'girl friend' was stolen from our band, which later appeared on Boby Brown's platnum 'Don't be cruel' album;
I was compelled to disbandon my band, I received my first speeding tickets (three back to back), my appendix burst, and I was rushed into ER, the morning I came home from the hospital my boss showed up at my door and gave me an ultimatum to either quit, or be fired!
That same evening my room mate told me she no longer needed me to help her cover the rent, then gave me a two week notice. all this took place over the space of one month (give or take a week).
Overwhelmed by the experience, I was determined to get some answers, and I was not going to attempt to resume my life until I got them, clinically speaking this is referred to as PTSD, but for me it was nothing more than a 'Reality Check' disguised as a 'Rude Awakening':
At any rate, I went out and purchased 5 note books, and titled each one accordingly, 'Who, Where, When, Why and How':
My goal was ludecrous, I was going to attempt to systematically formulate every grammatical question that I could imagine, then I was going to attempt to answer them one by one; I was being greedy, for I did not want a few answers, I wanted them all:
Honestly, can you imagine trying to pick yourself up and dust yourself off after taking a hit like that? without first having some kind of assurance that this kind of thing doesn't reoccur?
Even a scriptural illiterate such as I was understood how dissapointment could potentially be lethal.
Proverbs 13:12
Hope deferred [i.e., dissapointment] makes the heart sick: but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life.
Five months later I was still plugging away at my new plight, but sadly had gotten virtually no where, but that did not faze me, once I set my mind to something there was nothing that could detour me... except Divine intervention.
Then one day I took my note books into the bedroom, and I jumped up, and plopped onto the bed, and when I landed my head lightly knocked up against the back board, and that is when I heard a voice, and it said, 'Why don't you write a letter to your father?'.
I was 26 years old and had never met my biological father before, so I replied to the voice, I don't even know if he is alive, let alone know where, or how to locate him!
Then the voice said, 'What about Karen?'.
No sooner than the words were spoken I received a vivid memory, I was leaning over Karen, and massaging her shoulders gently, and asking her, what are you doing? and she replied, I'm writting a letter to my father! I then gave her a kiss on her forehead, and said, Well let me not disturb you', then returned to my musical composition.
It didn't even dawn on me till I sat down to play the organ, that her dad had passed some time ago; so when the voice said, 'What about Karen?', instantly, I realized my father did not have to be alive for me to write him a letter.
[Please bear with me/this pre-explanation](Maternally), I am the middle of five boys; at birth I received my last name from the father of my two eldest brothers, and I received my first, and middle name from the father of my two youngest brothers, but instead of Leslie Steven (Pondela), I was born Steven Leslie (Delpiano).
Throughout my youth I saw my brothers come and go interacting with their biological fathers, either visiting, or living with them for extended periods; It was my own little secret fantasy, that one day, I could meet my own biological dad;
So you can see why I was so excited at the notion of communicating with my dad; (please let me clarify, for those who may be alarmed, this was by no means an attempt to speak with the dead, that would have been a little too creepy for someone like me).
Upon hearing the words, 'What about Karen?', I quickly turned my note book to a blank page, and commenced writing, and I didn't stop till I got to the bottom of the page; just as I was flipping the page to continue, the voice spoke again, and said,
'Why don't you read what you have first', and so I turned the page back to read what I had written.
I was shocked! before me was a dump list i.e., ' Annually, we had the father and son pancake breakfasts at school, but you were not there.
When my brothers fathers would pick them up for the weekend, a ball game, or a camping trip, I was left behind, and you were not there.
I received my first (art) scholarship offer when I was twelve years old, but mom couldn't afford the $50 registration fee, and you were not there.
You would be so proud of me, my first time on stage playing the saxaphone, I receieved a standing ovation in the middle of my performance, but you weren't there. (etc.)
I could not believe my eyes, I thought I was going to say, nothing but good things, but instead I wrote a sad song called, 'and you were not there'.
As I stood in shock staring at the letter, the voice said unto me, 'What about Joe?'.
I took one last glance at the paper, and realized that my stepfather 'Joseph' had performed (for me) everything that was on my dump list, and then some.
Instantly, as if it were a cloud over my head was lifted, and I knew for a certainty that I was speaking to our Divine Author, our true Father;
That is when I lost it, I mean, I never cried so hard in all my life, but not for joy, though the occasion would soon call for it, I cried out of shame,
for I had accused my heavenly Father of not providing me with a father (figure) here on earth, when in reality I had one of the best; I was so ashamed, all I could do was beg for his forgiveness.
Then something very strange, and peculiar happened (as I was milking out the last of my tears), I noticed my hand was on the door knob, and it wasn't because I desired to leave the room, nor was I using it to lean upon, so I retracted my hand and arm and resumed with my plea.
Again, and again I found my hand on the door Knob, until finally it dawned on me, that I was being taken by the hand, and I was being gently encouraged to comply, and so I said, (as if I were talking to a friend),
'O.k., hold on a minute, first let me dry my eyes', and after I had done so haphazardly, I opened the door and began walking down the hallway toward the living room.
When I stepped into the living room I stopped, and before I could express my bewilderment, I found myself stooping down, and my hand reached out and grabbed a public phone book that was on a bottom shelf, I then stood upright again, and as I looked at the cover of the phone book I said,
'I guess..I'm going to.. look up..my father?':
And at that moment, my head was slightly thrown back as when one is gently pushed from behind, yet the force came from within, and I found myself walking to the kitchen table where I sat down and opened the phone book, and began to look up what I beleived to be my dad's name, Larry Ellis.
When I turned to the appropriate page I saw only three possible phone numbers, after dialling them and receiving no answers, I sighed, then the voice spoke, and said, 'Perhaps you will have better luck if you were to select from the next page'.
But when I looked up and down the page all I saw was an entire column of Lawrence Ellisons, again I sighed, and looked back at the first three numbers that I had dialed and received no answer, then the voice said,
'You know! (the name)'Larry' is short for 'Lawerence".
So I looked again, but there was not one Lawrence Ellis on the page to be found, sigh!, then the voice said,
'When your mother revealed unto you your fathers name, didn't she hesitate when she got to the last name?',
I was slightly flustered by the question, and began to say, 'How in the world am I supposed to remember...': That's when my words were cut off, and again I received a vivid memory,
I could see me running into my mothers room and jumping onto her bed, and I asked her, saying, 'Mom! what's my dads name again', and I could see her turn and answer me, saying, 'His name is Larry Ellisa...(mumbling at the end, as if she wasn't quite sure).
Then from the top of the page I began to dial, and just like my first three attempts no one answered their phones, until I got to the third phone number where a woman answered; honestly, I had no idea what to say, or how to proceed.
Nevertheless, I began to speak, and I said, May I speak to Lawernce Ellison please! and she said, 'He is not here at the moment. May I ask who is calling?', I replied,
'My name is Steven Ellis, and I'm trying to find a friend I haven't seen in years, maybe you can tell me if I have the right Lawerence... (pause, silence),
I know that he is Afro-American, and over six feet tall..., and..that he is a musician that plays the piano..., he made a 45 (record) back in the early 60's..., I also know that he has a daughter approximately 27 years old who has either a hearing or sight empediment..., do you know if that might be him?
And the woman was very kind, yet would neither confirm or deny if the discription matched, she replied,
'He should be here shortly, and he is real good when it comes to returning his calls, so if you leave your name, and number I am sure he will get back with you'.
So I gave her my name, and phone number, then as an after thought, I said, Oh yeah, we had a mutual friend, that might help ring a bell, her name is Laurie, and I'm not sure if she went by her married name 'Delpiano', or Evans, her maiden name.
It was arround seven, or eight in the evening, so I asked if he might return my call tonight, and she said, 'He will more than likely return your call in the morning'.
After I thanked her, and hung up the phone, I could not shake the notion, how she never confirmed or denied any of the discriptions, even though I paused in between each discription to give her the oppotunity to reply;
I remember thinking, she might never divulge that it was him, but what was her reason for not saying, Oh no! that couldn't be him, surely she would have said so, if one of my discriptions were inaccurate.
Two hours later he returned my call, and the turkey made me go through the whole shabang again, i.e., are you Afro-American and...,
however this time when I paused between each discription, he answered, 'I sure am', or 'I sure did/do', then I added one last question...
Do you know you are speaking to your son, and he said, 'I sure do, how are you?'
I threw the phone in the air, jumped backwards onto the bed and began screaming for joy, legs kicking and all. I guess you can say, I lost it twice that day.
He asked me if I was available to meet him the next day over lunch, and of course I told him yes, then he asked me to call him at a certain time to confirm when and where;
but when the time came for me to call him the next day, I could not find his name in any of the phone books that were on the shelf, then I saw the white phone book, the one that only contains the names and numbers of buisnesses, and sure enough there is where I found him.
Though my dad lived three cities away from me, he was working only two miles away from my residence (when I first made the call and spoke to his wife Dianne), in the 'Laurel District' of east Oakland.
The following day he was knocking on the door (at the appointed time), and when I opened the door I stood back, and my friend just stood in amazement as my dad and I just stared at each other for a moment before embracing.
As we drove off there was a brief silence, and as we approached the stop sign at the end of my block we slowed down, and then the voice spoke again, and said,
'You were looking for all the Who, Where, When, Why, and Hows, if you were to know all the Who, Where, When, Why, and Hows, then you....?
Due to the inflection of the voice speaking to me, I understood he expected me to fill in the blank, therefore I said,
'Then you would know everthing', and then the voice said,
'And if you were to know everthing then...?',
and I replied, 'Then you would have to be God!', then the voice replied,
'You were looking for me, and now I give you...'
Isaiah 65:1
I AM sought of them that asked not for me; I am found of them that sought me not: I said, Behold me, behold me, unto a nation that was not called by my name.
I am sorry, but the remaining words were both private, and amazing, and I feel it would not be aporopriate for me to divulge the remaining content with just anyone at anytime, (yet it is something I am permitted to share with certain individuals, at what might appear to be the right moment in my eyes), lest if I broadcast it, and someone feel, that I think more of myself than what I am.
Well ladies and gentlemen, that was just 'part one' to how I recieved my (wake up) call (-ing).
When I get another moment to jot in my memoirs I'll be more than happy to share 'part two' with you. Give praise! for his name is worthy!
