DECEMBER 3 "TRULY GRATEFUL, EVEN TO A SEAGULL!"
It is gratitude that prompted an old man
to visit an old broken pier on the eastern seacoast of Florida . Every Friday night, until his death
in 1973, he would return, walking slowly and slightly stooped with a large
bucket of shrimp. The sea gulls would flock to this old man, and he would feed
them from his bucket. Many years before, in October, 1942, Captain Eddie
Rickenbacker was on a mission in a B-17 to deliver an important message to
General Douglas MacArthur in New
Guinea . But there was an unexpected detour
which would hurl Captain Eddie into the most harrowing adventure of his life. Somewhere
over the South Pacific the Flying Fortress became lost beyond the reach of
radio. Fuel ran dangerously low, so the men ditched their plane in the
ocean...For nearly a month Captain Eddie and his companions would fight the
water, and the weather, and the scorching sun. They spent many sleepless nights
recoiling as giant sharks rammed their rafts. The largest raft was nine by
five. The biggest shark...ten feet long. But of all their enemies at sea,
one proved most formidable: starvation. Eight days out, their rations were long
gone or destroyed by the salt water. It would take a miracle to sustain them.
And a miracle occurred. In Captain Eddie's own words, "Cherry," that
was the B- 17 pilot, Captain William Cherry, "read the service that
afternoon, and we finished with a prayer for deliverance and a hymn of praise.
There was some talk, but it tapered off in the oppressive heat. With my hat
pulled down over my eyes to keep out some of the glare, I dozed off." Now this is still Captian Rickenbacker
talking..."Something landed on my head. I knew that it was a sea gull. I
don't know how I knew, I just knew. Everyone else knew too. No one said a word,
but peering out from under my hat brim without moving my head, I could see the
expression on their faces. They were staring at that gull. The gull meant
food...if I could catch it." And the rest, as they say, is history.
Captain Eddie caught the gull. Its flesh was eaten. Its intestines were used
for bait to catch fish. The survivors were sustained and their hopes renewed
because a lone sea gull, uncharacteristically hundreds of miles from land,
offered itself as a sacrifice. You know that Captain Eddie made it. And now you
also know...that he never forgot. Because every Friday evening, about sunset...on
a lonely stretch along the eastern Florida
seacoast...you could see an old man walking...white-haired, bushy-eye browed,
slightly bent. His bucket filled with shrimp was to feed the gulls...to
remember that one which, on a day long past, gave itself without a
struggle...like manna in the wilderness.
Comments
Post a Comment