This page is designed to give out personal information to friends of Bill and Janae Cooksey only
This is a letter that may cause you some pain and I wish with all my heart that I didn't have to write it. It has taken me this long to get my thoughts together in order to express them as I have been in shock and grief.
It grieves me to have to put in words the circumstances which built up to the purpose of writing this informative letter.
First of all, the job with the Morristown school was offered to me in an email less than 48 hours after the Fire Department had been to our apartment TWICE in one day because of the electrical fire started by the leaking toilet of our landlord upstairs inside the walls of our kitchen area. The Fire Captain told us and Jimmy our landlord, (whom we have never seen sober in the four years of living here) that NO ONE should be living in our apartment until the plumbing and electrical problems were professionally corrected because it was a top priority fire hazard risk and they said they did not wish to come back a third time that night. Jimmy is from Yugoslavia and claims to speak seven languages. But he only speaks and understands English according to only how it will benefit him. Thank God, the Fire Captain did not buy his "I'm a poor foreigner and I just don't understand what you mean" act.
The Fire Dept. informed us all that certain breakers to different parts of the entire house MUST remain off until the entire problem was offically fixed. Yet during the next 5 or 6 hours the landlord kept switching the electricity on and we would go out and switch it off. Until he was threatened by officials that if he did it again, the police would come out and deal with him personally, he refused to stop.
It was a nightmare for me since I have encountered three fires in my life that each time destroyed most of what I had in this world at the time. Needless to say, I might have volunteered to go to the moon at that point as any alternative seemed better than to burn up at the hands of the landlord.
When I was contacted by the headteacher of the AZ school with the news of the immediate vacancy due to the fact a teacher from Texas had moved there and took one look at the school and left to return to Texas, I immediately jumped at the opportunity without thought or reason. All I could see was an escape from the fire danger and it was to include a paycheck.
So in haste I called and said I would accept the position even though I was to ONLY receive substitute teacher pay until a contract was signed after the board meeting scheduled to be on Sept. 10. Then after all the paper work from the State was processed, I would be put on the regular payroll pay period. The State can take awhile to get their wheels in motion and both Bill and I knew that. It was hard but we accepted it and moved forward in Faith.
I was not under contract nor would I be under contract until after the board meeting IF all was approved and signatures put on the contract. We agreed to move to Wickenburg, believing there would be a contract in the end but we knew that it could change and we COULD end up without a contract after the board meeting. There was no guarantee. We only had the word of the headteacher, Lucy, who was not the final authority.
So we prepared to leave in total Faith, believing God was putting it all together. We saw doors open wide and there was no time to question. We just flew through the doors. We were met with such cooperation and all the little things were put in place so quickly that we did not question it. We believed it to be God.
There was a job. There was the rent paid on a nice little, standalone house. There was the U-Haul all paid for and readied for the trip. There was the car that suddenly emerged as an opportunity. There was the U-Haul trailer to pull the car we purchased just days before (from the funds saved for a down payment) for only an additional $35.00. And there was a lot more, all pointing the way to making us believe it was God putting it all together.
Yes, we did have questions but it all worked together so quickly that we did not have time in the midst of such perpetual motion to stop and look for answers since we were running against a five day start to finish deadline to be inside the classroom teaching.
From the minute Lucy said she wanted me to BE THERE on the fourth, we worked non-stop to pack and clean in our efforts to get out of this basement apartment. We tossed things in bags and boxes, sorted out without thinking it through, separating what to put in the house there and what to put in the shed plus separating out what I would need the very minute I arrived, also for the classroom.
With packing and loading the U-Haul truck plus arriving in Wickenburg, we went a total of six days with only six hours sleep in an actual bed of some kind and that sleep was not in successive hours. So we were exhausted to say the very least upon our arrival. But wait! I'm getting ahead of myself.
It took us 18 hours on Sunday to load up the truck because everyone upstairs came out to see what we were doing (snooping) and they stood in our way and wanted to talk with us when they had shown no interest in any form of communication in the four years we have resided at Bison Circle. We gave them two weeks notice in writing which Sylvia signed and we still had two weeks of the rent being paid and we told them we would be back because of the job on the eleventh. All they ever asked for was two weeks notice prior to our moving out.
We had to step around them, smile and try to be polite as we carried box after box of stuff out the back door, up the stairs, through the back yard, out the gate and over the toys, chairs and other obstacles in the front yard to the 17' U-Haul truck.
However, PRAYER WORKED as the landlord, Jimmy (alcoholic-drug addict), was sent away by other members of his family back to an out of state rehab center before we gave notice to his wife and he was nowhere around while we packed and loaded up the truck, praise the Lord! He would have been a never-ending problem to our getting out.
When I spoke on the phone to the policeman's wife, (owner of the house in Wickenburg) I said we might not arrive at the house until 3:00 AM on Tuesday morning, the same morning I was to begin teaching, and it was agreed that there would be no problem in our arriving so late. The key, we were told, would be under the mat by the kitchen door. We did not have communication with her husband but we were competently assured.
Actually, we arrived about 7:30 PM on Monday, the night before, (Sept. 3) and went to see the house. While there, the policeman and his wife knocked on the door and introduced themselves. They were cold, especially him, and unresponsive. They did not make us feel welcome when they had already been paid a month in advance. They acted like they were inconvenienced by our evening arrival.
Their child (the one I would be teaching) put his head over the fence to see his new teacher and they VERY nastily chewed him out and told him to GET IN THE HOUSE NOW and they would take care of him later!!! THIS mother is the head of the PTA !?!??!
We mentioned that we wanted to go to the shed and unload the major part of our belongings and they agreed, even giving us directions to the shed. But they were like ice and we knew that we were not well received even though we had stopped seven miles before arriving at the house, changed clothes and refreshed makeup.
By the time we had unloaded everything at the shed, it was about 11:00 PM and we returned to the house to try to BACK up the U-Haul with the trailer towing a car without jack-knifing which was just absolutely impossible to do since we had to back through a fence that was almost eight feet wide and about sixty feet back by several parked cars and remember that it was also dark. Without sleep, it's a wonder that we didn't hit one of the parked cars. God was with us!
It was impossible to do because we were told in no uncertain terms just where we could back up the U-Haul and neighbors had their cars parked in the same lot. The U-Haul would not back up without hitting one of the cars parked in the way. So we parked the U-Haul off the property at a restuarant parking lot with giant tow away signs posted. And we took two suitcases by hand and walked to the house.
We could see the blinds in the main house were still open and the colored TV was on. Somebody was still up in the house. We TRIED to be quiet but it was not to be.
The policeman and his wife have a barking dog who just would not shut up and he was located just an arm's distance from the front door to the house in which we were moving which was just feet from their house. Our dog was so tired and intimidated that she did not make a sound. I remember telling Bill we'd have to look for another rental after the first month as that dog and I would not get along if I couldn't make a move without his unending barking.
We barely stepped inside the house and put our bags down on the bedroom floor when literally everything fell apart. Suddenly, there was a loud pounding at our door that sounded like a train roaring by in the midst of a thunderstorm. It was several angry strikes and the man on the other side of the door was a very angry man!
A very angry policeman stood on the other side of the door. We opened the door and said as cheerfully as possible, "Oh, hi!" But our smiles were very quickly wiped away.
This anything but peace officer shouted at us in very loud tones, "I WILL NOT tolerate this!" "What?", we wondered. "What won't he tolerate?" And we thought surely he was joking. But the look on his face said otherwise. His face was drained of color and his eyes showed white all around the ENTIRE area of his eyeballs and his eyes looked like plates rolling and rolling as if they had been juggled. I remember quite well what his face looked like and I will NEVER forget it. It was hard to understand what he was shouting at us because his dog kept right on barking and barking.
He told us that we made his dog bark and they have to get up early in the morning (although he had been watching TV up to ten minutes before) and he just WON'T TOLERATE our bothering his dog. Now, does this make sense to you?
Let me remind you that we were six days with only six hours sleep to our credit and it made even less sense than it could possibly make to you as you are hearing about it now.
But then he threw in the kicker: (We had actually not had time to respond as his words came tumbling out his mouth like so much spaghetti.
"I won't tolerate this! You made my dog bark! I Will NOT tolerate this! Just pack up your stuff and move out RIGHT NOW !!!"
Remember, this was not only going to be one of my parents and the owner of the house we'd be living in, he was also a policeman of a number of years in the city of Wickenburg where we expected to live And he was telling us to get out right now!
He had the authority to arrest us on a trumped up charge and if you think he didn't mean business, you should have seen his face!
I mustered up my courage and asked, "What about the $500.00 rent money you have already been paid?" He said he'd return it to the person who sent in the check and that was the end of that. "Good-by!"
I asked if he knew the name and address of the person to return it to (A friend had helped us out by loaning us the money and paying the rent in advance of our move.) and he said that he didn't keep the information. He suggested that I call him and give it to him in a day or so. Later, when I called him several times and there was no answer, he called me back in the afternoon and chewed me out royally saying, "You called MY house!" He got my number from his caller ID which obviously let him know each time I had called previously. Nice man, huh?
In the dark, with him standing bow-legged in my path with his arms folded, I gave him the key. He chased me down to tell me I left him the wrong key. I had three keys to my name and he made me so nervous that I (without sleep) couldn't make my brain work. So I showed him all three keys and let him pick out the correct one.
He belittled me and mocked me, telling me which key was a house key and that the other two keys were car keys. I looked at his so-called house key and it resembled a key we had to our Oldsmobile. It did not look like a house key but he made me feel like I was three years old.
And I was supposed to teach his sixth grader at Morristown school in just a few more hours!
We were made to believe that his wife, the head of the PTA, would see to it that I had nothing but trouble in the school and he was very quick to make us know that he, as the local police with power, would see to it that we couldn't drive the roads with any peace because he would always be waiting for us. All of this happened because he blamed us for his dog barking.
So we had no place to go and I was supposed to be at school in just about four hours. We went to Dennys for a cup of coffee while we pondered what to do.
We spoke with the waitress who cleared it with her boss and we were given permission to sleep in the U-Haul truck parked out back on Denny's private property. It was safer that way because the police couldn't bother us on private property if we had management permission to be there. We slept only two hours.
I called Lucy at her home number and explained the situation. Her only solution was for us to buy a mobile home and park it on her five acres property. That was nice of her but we couldn't buy a mobile home. The bank had turned me down for a moving loan of which I am now grateful that they did.
She said she would take my class and for me to figure out what to do. Well, her hands were tied as she had no funds nor power to do anything but our hands were also tied and we were totally exhausted also without a chance to even take a shower.
And the heat and humidity were far worse than any anywhere including Laughlin at 128 degrees and New Orleans with the kind of humidity that makes you vomit because you can't breathe. We have NEVER felt such heat and humidity. Put that all together with everything else that was happening and wonder not that our brains quit working. I was raised in Phoenix and I can tell you that I never had to endure such terrible heat which seemed to originate straight out of the pit of hell!
We turned in the U-Haul at noon and left everything in the shed except what we could put in the car which wasn't much. We had a three day moving sticker on the back window of the car which we got in Wickenburg without ever having to present the car or any of the papers to do with the car.
Mr. T. (another friend) just walked in with the vin number and his ID and they gave him the permit to begin Sept. 4, going through Sept. 5. We were more blessed than we knew at that transaction.
Our two cats and dog were suffering intensely from the extreme heat and we had to put them outside in cages under whatever shade we could find. We had to water them down. They were constantly panting even in the night because the heat was so very, very hot.
They would not eat nor drink nor go to the bathroom. It was awful to see them suffer so. We had expected to put them inside a house but as you know, that did not happen.
Wickenburg does not have places to live as they are filled with retirement people and no new buildings are being built. Their area is small and apparently, they want it to remain small. Growth is not desired in Wickenburg.
Morristown has no places to live according to Lucy who would know. She says there is nothing there but a few trailers and they are never available.
We were not able to be in Wickenburg to check out housing and we almost didn't get a place at all until we came upon the cop and his wife by internet classfieds.
We did not know what to do. We had other people look for us and everything came up negative. The people who live there, the ones we know, have entire famlies with grandchildren living with them and they have no room in their homes.
So when the cop told us to get out, and I called Lucy, we just didn't know what else to do but to turn back. Lucy had no real suggestions except to buy a trailer. The school was NOT willing to help us out with temporary motel housing and this was after we spent so very, very much money moving down there in Faith, ready to go to work. No one even offered us temporary housing by giving us a room in their home or garage. I am talking about school personnel.
So we made the choice to return to Vegas since the rent was still paid until the 17th.. and we hoped it would give us a chance to recuperate.
Back to the trip to Wickenburg: When we went to Wickenburg, it was a tedious trip with no small towns or stopping places to even go to the bathroom. We had gone on Highway 93 and it was just long, long stretches of desert land without any scenery and no places to pull over, not even if your vehicle was overheating.
It was a long, long two lane road with very heavy traffic on Labor Day afternoon and not even a billboard to look at. There was nothing but cars and trucks and the highway. We were on this long stretch of road in a big U-Haul truck pulling a dolly with a car on it.
We were going 45 miles per hour as the sign on the dashboard of the truck tells us is the maximum speed but others were whizzing around us at 75 mph. And we were fighting going to sleep on the road and it was difficult just to stay in our own part of the two lane highway.
It was about 250 miles to make the trip there but when we decided to return, we thought it might be an easier way to go through Wenden, to Parker, to Lake Havisu over to Needles, through Laughlin and down to Vegas by way of Highway 60 but there would be places to pull over if we got too tired. We knew it would be a longer trip but we had no idea how long it would actually be.
We waited until it was dark to leave because it was so hot and we hoped to make it back before the Sun came up. We ended up driving over 14 hours with still no sleep, practically non-stop in a car that we had not driven nor did we know its condition. We had been to bed for an hour or so on Sunday morning and did not get any further sleep until Wednesday morning after nine, except for two hours in the cab of the U-Haul truck at Dennys.
Bill developed a stye in his left eye which drained and drained. It caused the area above his eyelid to swell and the sinus pockets under his eye to fill up. His whole left side of his face was swollen and bruised looking. It concerned me. And the eye constantly drained, blurring his vision. It wasn't until later, when he got some sleep, that it began to heal.
Before we left Las Vegas, I had prayed for God's angels to go with us, to lift us up lest we dash our feet against a stone. And I specifically asked for the angels to raise us up above the traffic and carry us to our destination. Little did I know how that prayer would produce a literal miracle.
Remember, we had not slept in six days except for six hours here and there. When we got on the road to go back to Vegas, neither of us could stay awake. We had very little money left so we couldn't stay at a motel. We just tried to get home. It was not a good decision but our brains weren't working up to par. Later, we repented because of the danger we put other people in on the highway.
I couldn't say more than one sentence about anything but what I didn't find myself in the middle of a dream before the sentence could be finished. Bill says that I just suddenly stopped in the middle of a sentence, dropped my head to my knees and started snoring while Bill was driving down the highway. He would beg me to stay awake so I could help to keep him awake but I kept dropping off to sleep with my head falling to my knees.
Bill would be driving down the road eating Matzos Passover crackers to help him stay awake. The crackers would fall suddenly right out of his hand as he continued driving. In between my falling asleep, I saw this happen but I still could not wake up. If we had had an accident (Thank God we didn't!) I would have dropped right off to sleep with my head to my knees even as a cop was talking to me. I have NEVER been so deprived of sleep and I have never been so out of control of my body.
Bill would see the cracker on the floor of the car and wonder how it got there before noticing that he was driving off the road towards a field to the left or right. Then he would realize that he had gone to sleep. This happened over and over.
Neither of us could stay awake. Bill woke up once to avoid a head-on collision with a guy who may have been sleeping himself because he was on our side of the road (and Bill was on his side of the road).
This went on for over two hundred miles on the last part of our trip home. It's a wonder we made it back. How many, Oh Lord, how many sleepers are on the highway?
By the time we got to Needles, a cop who noticed a lot of smoke coming out of the rear end of the car where we apparently were burning oil, stopped us. We had not burned any oil for a little over four hundred miles of trouble free sleep-driving. This cop was very nice and pointed us the way to get to Vegas by way of Searchlight which would cut off miles by our not having to go through Laughlin.
He looked at all the paperwork on the car and ran it through his little radio in his car. He told us everything was in order. This statement is important because of what happened later when we got to Vegas. Arizona gave us the moving permit without even seeing any papers nor knowing if the car had insurance. They had no problem. California ran the tags (cop in Needles) and checked the paperwork including the title. They had no problem When we got to Vegas, we had a problem.
We arrived back in Vegas the morning of the 5th. and we just simply crashed on the floor. We couldn't get enough sleep. Later, we discovered that within hours of our returning, the fine people upstairs had already made an agreement with a friend of the daughter's to rent the place.
They had planned to move him in before our rent was up, even though we had told them we would be back. He was going to fix the urine soaked ceiling and all that good stuff they never bothered with while we were considered the renters. Now they agreed to wait until the 17th. as well they should.
Jimmy's daughter (adult) informed us that we had just suddenly left with no notice. I pointed out that we had a signed written notice that Sylvia had signed and that we informed them we would be back. I told her a few other things too that Sylvia and we had discussed. She finally backed down but she wasn't happy about it. I reminded her that the rent was paid and we had the right to stay here until it was no longer paid. (She just wanted to move on in and start fixing it up because she let us know they intend to sell out and move back to New York.)
Somehow, it just never occurred to her that we were all blessed the house was still standing and hadn't burned to the ground as the firemen has warned us it could well do. They never called for an electrician which we knew they wouldn't do but the walls did dry up from within after the plumbing was fixed. We know this is very temporary. Also, the breakers did not kick in and this bothered the fire captain who said the wiring was absolutely not up to code and that something was dangerously wrong.
The ceiling in the kitchen is totally destroyed by the fact that the heaviness from the "wet" has caused it to collapse and fall down onto the floor, damaging everything else in its way. The bathroom ceiling was ripped open by the plumber who had to reach the underside of the upstairs toliet to do the repair. He left it that way because he went running out of our apartment complaining about his lungs and didn't want to return.
We just praise God for getting us back safely and know that we will not be staying here for very long. We are trusting God to keep us safe from fire and to keep His angels standing guard until we are gone.
So the 6th., the last day on the moving permit, we took the paperwork to the DMV. They took one look at it and said they could not register our vehicle, that we did not own it.
"What?", we exclaimed. "How can it be that we don't own the car that we paid for and got a bill of sale for, including the title, smog and insurance?"
The kind lady at the DMV informed us that in the State of Nevada, a bill of sale must be notarized. Also, the guy we bought the car from, who had an open title (acceptable in both Arizona and California) was not considered the owner in Nevada and so he had no right to sell the car because his name did NOT appear on the title. This man, Vidal, got the money to return to Mexico and he was gone, gone, gone!
The last name on the title was another Mexican name, Raul, and he was nowhere to be found. We worried that he might have gone to Mexico with Vidal. We had his insurance agent's card and we called her. She tried to reach him but he did not return her calls and she said she didn't know if he was in town. All this was taking place on Sept. 6, the day the Arizona tags were due to expire.
We called everybody we could think of and we called all the businesses similar to what we had been told he might be working. The phone number Vidal gave us was a wrong number. The address he gave us did not exist. We felt it was ignorance rather than a scam because the car really seemed to be a good car as it was proven on the long trip home. We didn't know if Raul's address would be correct. He had no phone number and he lived in the worst part of gang territory in all of Vegas.
We didn't want to go to a wrong address with expired permit tags and the idle of the car is set too low for in-town driving. That has to be fixed but we didn't want to be stuck in that part of town without proper tags. The police can be merciless in that part of town and with good reason.
We called the Highway Patrol and they told us that we SHOULD be okay because we showed intent to conform to the law because we had the permt (even if expired), the title, insurance, and bill of sale (even if not notarized and even if the wrong name was on it) so we took a chance and went to Raul's house.
We arrived at six in the morning, parked right behind his car and waited. We planned to knock on his door at eight if we didn't see him before.
At seven in the morning, I came out of a deep sleep to find a short Mexican in a Jack-in-the Box uniform standing next to our car (or his car) looking puzzled. I said, "Are you Raul" and he answered that he was. I got so excited I dropped everything I had in my lap. I jumped out of the car, almost falling right on him and we started dancing around the man exclaiming "Oh, thank God!"
Raul didn't know what to make of us and he started backing away. When we explained to him what we wanted, he seemed to be okay with it. He said he would sign the Bill of Sale the DMV gave us in front of a notary but he had to go to work way across town about twenty-five miles. He was already late and had to go.
This was Saturday. We didn't know how impossible it would be to get a notary. We followed him to work and then we looked everywhere for a notary. We looked at the truck stop and at banks and casinos but there were none to be found within his area of work on Saturday.
We finally found a notary at the Bank of America who was very kind to us but she couldn't go to Raul's workplace for him to sign the Bill of Sale and he agreed to come to the bank but then HE CHANGED HIS MIND because they were busy at Jack-in-the Box and we worried that he might change his mind entirely.
We had put two new tires on the back of the car before we left Vegas at a cost of over a hundred dollars. Now he may be getting the car back plus his friend, Vidal, got our money and went off to Mexico. The permit has expired two days by this time and we are driving the car, praying for no cops to see us. The DMV closes in four hours from the time we found the notary at the Bank of America and Raul is changing his mind about going to the bank about a mile away.
The lady at the Bank of America gave us a phone book as ours was in Wickenburg. She opened it to a page where mobile notaries advertise. The first three we called were out of business. The fourth one agreed to come to the Jack-in-the Box for thirty dollars because of it being the weekend. Well, we either get the car or we don't get the car. So we borrowed money from Antonia's money that we put aside to pay her for this upcoming job on Tuesday. We were a little worried that Raul would not sign the Bill of Sale and we would have to pay the notary for coming out.
Raul signed the paperwork and we were on our way to the DMV by one in the afternoon to wait in line for two more hours. We just made it in the door in time. I fell asleep waiting for our number to be called.
Finally, all is done. The car belongs to us. Wayde, the Christian mechanic who recently moved closer to us, is on vacation but he will check it out when he gets home. In the meantime, we will go to the job with Antonia and hope for the best.
We know all this may be hard to digest. There is more we could tell you, believe it or not. We are thankful God has kept us safe all this time and as we pray, we know He will give us understanding in the days to come.
The car we purchased was a 1988 Ford Tempo. The body appeared to be in mint condition and the car glides across the highway like glass. A Christian mechanic here told us that the car was an excellent choice. He said his grandmother has owned a car just like the one we were blessed to buy and he said the car was an excellent running little car. He knows other people who own the same year and make car and he could only sing its praises.
However, five days after being home in Vegas, and trying every way possible to get another job, I was on an orientation at a company that agreed to hire me. When the orientation was over for the day, the car went one block down the road and stopped. We had mechanics look at it and were advised to tow it home, which we did for ninety dollars. We were short two dollars but the man was nice about it, thank God.
We have been told the car needs a new engine and it will cost about twenty-five hundred dollars but we've also been told that we don't know what else is wrong with it and it may not be wise to repair it since our finances don't allow for much these days.
We understand that all this may be a little much for you to comprehend but we are still trying to digest it all. And of course, the terrorist attacks occurred which resulted in thousands of layoffs in this tourist orientated valley, making it even more difficult to get a job of any kind without a vehicle.
We are not giving up. We are still alive and kicking and we will find work by the Grace of God. The Morristown school was definitely not the place He ordained us to be because He is in control of all circumstances and He knew what would happen before the job was even offered.
Oh yes. I should mention that THE JOB I referred to above where we were able to borrow the notary money from that put away to pay Antonia, another local entertainer who was to also work the upcoming job with us at the Venetian Hotel corporate trade show breakfast, turned out to be another landmark event in our lives.
The job was contracted by email and paid for in advance on June 9 from Georgia. The entire check , except for Antonia's promised amount, went towards paying our June 17 rent. And that was an obligation that the Morristown headteacher had agreed I would be able to take off a day to return to Vegas to complete. That was the last job we had contracted in Vegas for 2001 and since we had already spent the money, we had no choice but to return to do the job.
Bill and I were to go around from table to table at a breakfast meeting drawing caricatures, while Antonia was to do handwriting analysis for the guests. We got up at 5:00 AM and arrived at the hotel before 7:00 AM to try and locate the meeting room so we could draw from eight til ten.
By the time we finally found the room and Antonia had arrived, we began to hear parts of conversations from the guests about some terrible tragedy that had just happened on the East Coast.
Did I mention the date of our job yet?
It was Tuesday morning, SEPTEMBER 11, 2001!
It was then that we realized our problems were so very small and unimportant. Praise God for His Mercifulness and Protection to all of us during our day to day struggles. By His Grace, He saw to it we were not in New York that day and were not drawing caricatures of diners in that exclusive "Window To The World" restaurant on the top floor of the Trade Tower. Remember, in the past year, we have had two TV networks located in New York come to Vegas to do a special feature seeking the creative talents of ole' Bill and Janae.
VH1 filmed us here for one whole day for one of their hour long biography specials and the USA TV Network commissioned us to write and record a number of songs for the soundtrack of a mini-series that aired this summer. Both networks wanted us to come ourselves to New York to complete each project. But even though we did not understand why both projects fell through at the last minute involving them paying our travel expenses to New York, how blessed we are God knew and did not let us go. You can be sure that one of the first places we would have gone to in New York would have been the Trade Towers.
God bless you for all your prayers for us and for joining us in praising the Lord for guiding us all to see the reality of the promise of Romans 8:28.
One Day At A Time, Sweet Jesus! That's all I'm asking of YOU!