He Was There ...

In December 1969, I started my first job as a busboy in the dining room of the luxurious Queen's Quarter Hotel, St. Croix, US Virgin Islands. This was an inland hotel with a beautiful beach club, Pelican Cove Beach Club, only a few minutes away.

A shuttle bus service left the hotel every hour, on the hour, for a round trip that took guests and employees to the beach club or to the nearby town, Christiansted. With 30-degree temperatures, bright sunshine and beautiful sandy beaches, we went to the beach club as often as possible.

One fine day in April 1970, I had lunch at the beach club with Roy, my friend and fellow employee. After a scrumptious meal, we walked out on a reef and sat down to enjoy the warm weather.

It was a picture perfect day, like so many days in St. Croix, with clear blue skies, rolling waves, palm trees dancing in the warm lazy breeze and many guests having a great time on the beach. This was the kind of day that would keep anyone on the beach for hours.

After a while, Roy jumped off the reef into the water and swam around casually. When he noticed that I was not making any effort to join him, he stood up, showed me that the water was only chest high and said, "Come on in, it is not deep!"

Now, those who know me know that I am not a swimmer but they know that I could be very "logical" sometimes. At that moment, my logic said, "If the water was only chest high over by Roy, about ten feet away from the reef, it must be safe nearer the reef." With that in mind, I jumped off the reef and, to my dismay, found that I was unable to touch bottom.

You guessed it! The water near the reef was much deeper than where Roy was standing. This is probably because the waves washing onto the reef dug the sand near the reef and deposited it a few feet away.

Whatever the reason, the picture perfect day had changed dramatically and I was now gripped by terror. My next conscious moment was probably close to twenty-four hours later at the city hospital. So much for my logic!

The following is Roy's account of what happened after I jumped off the reef. When he realized that I was in trouble, he came over to help me. In that split second, I had gone under the water and while he was frantically waving his hand to signal help from anyone on the beach, I reportedly clutched onto him, by the neck, and took him down with me!

That was my second time under the water and his first. When we came up, with me still clutched onto his neck, he waved again before we went back down. That was my third time down and his second. You probably know the old saying, "three times under the water and you're a dead man".

Well that must be true because I lost my hold on Roy and he was able to struggle free. When he surfaced, he was relieved to see that the lifeguards were there to rescue us.

On the beach, some doctors worked frantically to get the water out of me while someone at the beach club phoned for the ambulance. They worked for quite a while before I responded. Shortly thereafter, the ambulance whisked me off to the city hospital. The wailing siren left an eerie feeling on the beach.

All of this happened and I have no memory of it! When I started regaining consciousness, I heard strange voices and saw different images but could not recognize any of them. I was told that for several hours, I slipped in and out of consciousness and cried out for help.

Many hours after the ordeal started, I slowly realized that I was in the hospital encased in some kind of a clear plastic tent but had no idea why I was there. Then, I started feeling pains on my chest and back and noticed that some of the skin from my chest was missing.

The nurses later explained that the skin from my chest was eaten away by the sand on the beach and the pain in my back was from the hands that pushed down on it, again and again, to pump the water out of me. The clear plastic tent was there only because I needed extra oxygen to survive.

At times, I could hardly tell the difference between day and night. I was severely dehydrated and could still remember that deep down thirst and the craving for something to drink.

The next day, I had numerous visitors; some of them were patients who said they heard me calling out for help. Many of them said things like, "You don't know where you've been; you are so lucky to be alive today."

A few days later, I received a book titled Run, Baby, Run by Nicky Cruz. A doctor reportedly came to visit while I was asleep and left it for me. He must have been one of the doctors who attended to me on the beach.

Today, I found this statement on the Internet "Run, Baby, Run is a thrilling story! It has all the elements of tragedy, violence, and intrigue - plus the greatest of all ingredients: the power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ."

When I was discharged from the hospital, the hotel management graciously arranged for me to have a room at no cost. They also provided room service and constant care until I was well again.

During one of his daily visits, the manager said, "Stephen, you should know that we had already prepared a telegram to notify your parents of your untimely death. You survived only because the doctors were right there on the beach. You would not have made it if we had to wait for the ambulance to take you to the hospital."

A few weeks later, when I was strong enough to travel, I went back to Trinidad, to stay with my parents. I was happy to be alive and they were happy to see me.

Some months after, I was asked if I could remember anything about being so close to death. Did I see the big bright light? Was there anyone there to meet me?

There was no light! The only memory I have, up to this very day, is that of a lone unkempt figure standing on the side of the bed, facing me. His face appeared to be sad and concerned.

When I explained that the face resembled that of Jesus but with a scruffy looking head of hair, my listener said "That could not be Jesus; it must have been the devil!" I was totally devastated and so ashamed that I hardly ever discussed the experience again.

In March 2003, I was invited to attend the Men's Retreat at the Maranatha Renewal Center in Port Severn, Ontario. During the retreat, we had an opportunity to share a personal life experience and I spoke about this one. After the session, Fr. Bill Lordon said, "Think about it Stephen, if Jesus had come into the water to rescue you, would His hair not be scruffy looking?"

The more I think about it, the more I agree with Fr. Bill; he is right! It was Jesus, He was standing at the side of my bed, He was sad and He was concerned because of my situation. He had gone into the water to save me that day and that is why His hair appeared to be scruffy! Is that not what would happen if one of us went into the water to rescue someone today?

Yes, thirty-three long years passed, from April 1970 to March 2003, before Jesus opened my mind to the fact that He was the One standing at my bedside in the hospital. And another year passed before I committed it to paper today, Mar06, 2004.

Now that I know it was Jesus, I am no longer ashamed of the experience. In fact, I feel like standing on the rooftop and shouting so that the entire world may know about it. Have you ever asked or heard someone ask, "Where was Jesus when the tragedy occurred?" I now know the answer, He was right there, He was sad and He was concerned for the victims!

Thank you Lord Jesus for being there for me! Thank you Fr. Bill for your insightful counsel; you helped me to realize and believe wholeheartedly, that it was Jesus standing at my bedside in the hospital.

Thank you Roy for being a friend in the time of my greatest need. Thank you to the doctors for their immediate attention. Thank you to the lifeguards and everyone who was on the beach that day. Thank you to the management and staff of the hotel and those who nursed me back to good health. Thank you one and all.

Every day people like you and I experience God's unconditional love and unending mercy through personal encounters. Please feel welcome to share yours with me.

"I knew then, as I know now, that I must have been preserved for some reason - however small, it is something that only I can do, and it is vitally important that I do it. When I could not call out to Him, He was there. When I did not know His name, He was there; God was there."