How a dream saved a life.

              Yesterday my daughter went to the Ogden Utah temple, of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, to do baptisms. This was her first time being able to do so. My daughter is London`addelyne and she is a beautiful young woman, she looks a lot like her mother who is also striking. 

              I posted this picture on Facebook which garnered a response from a friend and former coworker Chree, her comment triggered a memory of my little girl in a really big pickle.

              We lived in West Valley City, Utah a suburb of Salt Lake City. We had a modest ranch style home in the neighborhood where my wife and I both grew up, in fact, we bought the house right behind the house I grew up in.  We tried to have children for a few years and struggled, but after a while Trin became pregnant. We were so excited to be parents and terrified at the same time, what a huge responsibility.  A couple months into the pregnancy we lost that child to a spontaneous miscarriage, a devastating blow, to say the least, I will spare you all the drama that went along with that involving, her geriatric heartless OBGYN.

               After some time to heal our hearts, and prepare to try again for another pregnancy my father passed away, Ken Pentico was an amazing dad, grandpa and great-grandpa, his passing hurt as well, obviously, but not as much as you might think. Our dad had been sick for a real long time, he had built a good life of eternal riches, worked heard and passed on amazing traits of selflessness, love, devotion, hard work and faith, and we knew that he was on to bigger and better things.

              About 6 weeks after my father's passing we learned that Trin was again prego, and with that came the excitement and terror. We kept her pregnancy quiet as long as possible, as to avoid the awkward "How is the baby coming along" comments we endured for weeks after the first miscarriage. We had made it a few months and our new OBGYN, who was awesome and came highly recommended, had told us that things were moving along nicely and there should be no reason that this child should not make it full term, so we made our announcement, she would be due in December of 2002.

              Fast forward to about 18 months later London was about 8 -9 months old and with my working  early and long hours on the ambulance sleep was at a premium, and as some parents do, not recommended, we had London sleep with us as to get more sleep or at least a greater quality of sleep. I remember the night like it was yesterday, our bedroom was situated in the front of the home and our bedroom window faced to the south, I liked to leave the curtains open so I could see the moon and stars.

              Trin and I were sound asleep and London in the next room began to fuss, so I went into her room and brought her to bed with us. She immediately went back to sleep, as did I. I do not know how long we were asleep when I woke up to Trin, my wife, holding a limp little girl in her arms asking me to please help, I could see very clearly, because of the moonlight shining through my bedroom  window, that this was not my daughter and that this child was much older than my daughter. I was confused as to what was going on, and then in a voice -- a child's voice, I heard the words "Help me, daddy." Like lightning to my heart, I shot up out of bed and it was then I realized that I had been dreaming. With a short-lived sigh of relief, I looked over at my wife, who was sound asleep, and then my daughter. I immediately realized her lifeless body with nearly black face, lying there next to my wife with bedding around her neck. She was not breathing, and she was very cyanotic. I was a trained emergency medical professional and this caught me way off guard. With a certain level of anxiety I picked up my daughter, all the while calling Trin "TRIN--TRIN WAKE UP!"  I yelled, I unraveled the sheet that was strangling her and as I removed the sheet she took a great big breath and started Crying. Trin by this time had shot up out of bed and turned on the light. I could see London's very pale body with blue face, I was in shock over what had just transpired, London began to breathe normally and had calmed down, quite unlike her parents, then went right back to sleep, needless to say Trin and I did not fare so well--for a while. 

              Later, as London grew older I recognize the little girl my wife was holding in my dream as my daughter about 3 years old and the voice that called out to me as hers from about the same age.

              Changes were made and nothing like that ever happened again. I know that that night God truly spoke to me and because I listened she lives. I often receive answers to my prayers while I sleep, while I am free from the distractions of the world. I am grateful to a loving father in heaven that has blessed me with an amazing gift of life and an amazing family.

              London has grown into such a beautiful young woman, and Trin and I are so proud of her and her choices she has made to follow Christ and perform his labors here on earth for the salvation of others.

I am tired of being married.

The Offspring BB, Buckshot,
and Scatter`fast! 

  For the last seventeen years, I have been married to a great woman, and she has mothered three amazing children that we love with all our hearts. We are sealed in the temple of our lord. In our church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints, we believe that when a couple are sealed in the temple of the lord we are husband and wife for eternity, not to be separated at death, also our children are sealed to us as well meaning that we are an eternal family.  
   With that sealing there lies great responsibility and obligation to one another as well as to a God in heaven and a saviour in Jesus Christ that provided a way through his atonement for us to return to him, the father. So it is important that as a couple we work out our differences, and strive to be better at being husbands and wives.  After all, marriage is not just a piece of paper, it is a lifestyle, a culture, a union, a seed to a family, not to be mocked or trifled with. There is no greater commitment to another than that of marriage. 
Obviously I understand the importance of marriage and being a present and helpful husband to a good woman. So why am I so tired of being married? I'll tell you. Because being married is not an easy job. If you are married and it is easy then you are doing it wrong. Marriage is not meant to be easy, it is meant to be a challenge for the rest of your life. Like a great muscle that needs to be exercised or risk losing that muscle to atrophy. 

10 seconds after receiving
 "the drugs!"

   Frankly I am worn out. This last week Trin, my wife which is short for Trinitie, had back surgery. Not an easy ordeal for her, or me or the kids. I -- We rely heavily on the one known as "MOM" and I freely admit my lack of love for the finer points of keeping "house." I do, however, love to serve my bride and our offspring. It is no easy task and when my bride is just one step above paperweight it is difficult. Between the trauma of the surgery and the truly gorked nature of her mental state due to the intoxicating effects of the Oxy and valium, I am maxed out on effort. To be clear here, I am not trying to say "hey look at me" in any way shape or form. I am merely saying that I Love and appreciate what this woman has done for me in the past, of which began on the day she said yes. She has put up with a lot of my shenanigans and turned the other cheek more than should be required. 
 

The kids getting to see their mom
 for the first time after surgery

 I am one week into the care and feeding of my wife and I am tuckered out, I am doing things for her that I never imagined doing for her, and she has made it perfectly clear that she is not a fan of me, or anyone else for that matter, doing too much for her. I would die for her--right here, right now. Our Love is exhausting!  
   So I am saying this, being a present and involved husband and father requires work, sacrifice, and selflessness. Your marriage should be an effort, and effort to build upon it, an effort to make it better than it was yesterday, not in riches and gifts, but in love, and service to one another, and not with the understanding that in any way you are owed anything in return for your kindness and sacrifice. 

Trin and Polly getting some sun
which is a must for proper recovery

   The woman is the greatest creation of our God in heaven. She is majestic, beautiful, full of life and capable of bringing life into this world, human life. No other creature is capable of doing this. Her creativity, wisdom and grace is that of heavenly Gods and dare I say a natural instinct until robbed of that through life here on earth through a multitude of experiences. She is to be guarded and protected, cherished and  revered. I'm in love with my very best friend, more now than I was yesterday and the day before that. I love her leaps and bounds above the level of love I had for her the night before he surgery. 
   We are all busy we all have obligations and responsibilities outside of the home, but the responsibilities in the home should be priority one. So go out and get tired of being married! 

What I want to do when I grow up?

My brothers Beaner(C), Jose(L), and
Eric(R), and me in front

            When I was a small boy of four or five I told my mother that I was going to be a policeman. I had been fed a steady diet of Hill Street Blues, Dragnet, and Chips. In my mother’s defense, she had not intended or allowed me to watch some of those shows, but as a result of my being sneaky I was thus fed.

            As I matured into a young adult I had my trials and some of which I failed. Lucky for me, I escaped my teen years free from convictions and or death. I had always intended to be a police officer, but struggled with my weight, and that posed its own unique set of problems. So I looked into alternatives, mostly because of the age requirements to be a police officer, but also a means of getting my “fix,” if you will, for adrenalin and excitement. Right after graduation from high school I registered for an EMT class and began classes immediately. This was a way to a means. I figured I would get my foot in the door, and give me a few points up on the competition.

            My time spent in EMS was supposed to only last a couple years and pave the way for a long career in law enforcement. This little stint took twenty years before fate would change all that. I loved my interactions with law enforcement. I have always had an affinity for police and law enforcement, and in my eyes they could do no wrong.

            Throughout my career in EMS I was directly involved in the very worst of human nature, from shootings, and stabbings, to assaults, fatal accidents, and suicides of every shape and form; in a small way, I too was a victim of these crimes. I could go on for pages and pages with war stories, but that’s not my intent. I have prefaced a small part as to why I am here in your class today. I am also a fan of history and its mystery’s, and to be completely honest TV has had a significant influence into my wanting to be in law enforcement. But my opinion about being a beat cop has ebbed and flowed with my age, current job, and probably the weather and the direction of the wind. Never do I feel more desire to be a police officer than when I hear about the loss of one of our finest in the line of duty.

            I thought that when I went back to school I was going to get into forensics, or maybe Crime scene investigations, but as I have taken more classes and read more and more about the current state of the law enforcement community and the apparent attack on them, not to mention, the current state of the criminal justice profession as a whole, I am kind of confused as to what I want to do next. 

-Me in 30 Job interview-

            I am a good leader and willing to do so, I am also teachable and willing to learn new and interesting ways to bless the lives of those I interact with. As I sit through lecture, I have learned about the inequality in the criminal justice world. I have since begun to wonder how I could be an asset to the people, I wish to serve and protect, but in what capacity? Is it as a law enforcement administrator? Is it as a beat cop who really has the desire in his heart to help people? Is it a politician with integrity and a willingness to make the hard decisions, to clear up problems with minimum mandatories, racial inequality, and protection of current constitutional rights? Am I to be a fresh set of eyes to look into old cases and solve old crimes? Am I to free innocent men and women for crimes they had not committed, or an attorney who fights heard to bring about justice?  I really do not know, not today!

            But if I was to pick my dream job, I would have to blend a combination of history and mystery. I have considered my experience in EMS and its relevance to human anatomy, mechanism of injury as well as a wide array of experience in all sorts of crimes against humans by other humans. I have received, over the years, a multitude of training in crime scene preservation, mechanics, as well as extensive training and experience in customer service which lends itself to situations where I can interact with others quite well.  That said I would love to bring closure to families of unsolved crimes, either as a civil servant or as a private investigator.  So as far as the actual direction I am going to go with my future career in Criminal Justice I am in no way sure. I thought I would take a look at a few different disciplines under the criminal Justice umbrella.

-One of a thousand call's I think about-

            This thought process and interest go back to a call my partner Brad, and I went on as EMT's on December 9th, 1996, when Lisa Redmond a 36-year-old married mother of two who was murdered. She was a pizza delivery driver for Pizza Hut. At about 2130-2145 she made her last delivery and was never seen alive again. About 2200 hours my partner and I received the call to respond on a possible auto-pedestrian. It was in an area where there was really no reason for someone to be walking (at the time it was in the middle of nowhere, today it is heavily developed).

            My partner and I arrived and made contact with Mrs. Redmond, she was in the middle of the road in clothing inappropriate for the weather, and it was cold as she was underdressed.  As I began my head to toe assessment of Mrs. Redmond and started life-saving actions, I found evidence that would indicate Mrs. Redmond was a victim of homicide and not just an auto-pedestrian; although evidence would indicate she had also been run over by he own truck. I was heartbroken for this family and have pondered and thought a lot about them over the years.  I have dreamed about solving this crime, I have often thought about this woman and her family, unfortunately, her husband was killed in a car accident in June 1999, her kids live with grandparents in Colorado.

            According to the Utah attorney general’s office there are over 80 unsolved homicides  in Utah going back to the 50’s and 60’s. I know that there are many more homicides prior to those records, but the amount of time passed and evidence available would make them impossible to solve. Even with that reality I am intrigued by the proposition of solving historical crimes and giving these lost victims a voice, whether through justice or word. 

Family Values....

 It is no secret to any society that a person has a serious advantage in life if they are the product of a loving and supportive home. Of course, one can still succeed with less than an ideal home life. It nevertheless remains true that a stable family life helps us and teaches life’s lessons at home. “Family values” can arm one with the armor to venture out on life’s great journey.

This post will consider the words “family” and “values”, individual words with very unique and different definitions. Like many other words we use every day, these words joined together as a team signifies meaningful and powerful dynamic too often overlooked in today’s world

  Before we look at “family values” as two words joined together, it would be instructive to consider them separately. The definitions of “family” around the world, are for the most part, the same, meaning a group of people that are joined together in purpose, or by race, or beliefs, but most commonly by ancestry, blood, and marriage. Family is derived from the Latin term famulus meaning servant, evolving into the word familia meaning household servant or household family, and then the literal translation into English as the family.

The word “value” has a unique and specific definition and carries with it an inherent, all things being relative, definition. What this means is, although the definition is the same, the level and substance of value varies greatly; consider the idiom “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure”.  To define “value” is the usefulness or worth of (something or someone). The word “value” comes from the Latin word Valeo meaning “I am worth” which translated into old French as valoir meaning “be worth”, which translates to value in old English

My family is not just blood and marriage but also my closest friends. As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints,(mormon.org) Mormons, the meaning of family is broad. Mormons believe that all human beings ever born or that are to be born are the literal spirit children of a loving Father in Heaven, thus we are all brothers and sisters, a spiritual family. This is not a belief unique to Mormons. This feeling or line of belief can be found in tribes, clans, races, and all sorts of different groups of people all around the world and throughout history. We as human beings find the ability to relate to one another, rather it be sharing the same hometown, high school, favorite sports teams, or brand of car or soda pop, we all have micro, and macrofamilies. 

           "Value" is relative to the user of the word.  One’s placing a value on one thing may not translate to another, thus "value" is as unique as the user of the word. There are millions of tradesmen in this world, all with a set of skills that may or may not translate to the other. Their uniqueness is what gives greater value as a whole to their societies. As children, my parents taught my siblings and myself the value of a dollar, hard work, tools, transportation, books, shoes, clothing, heat, food, and shelter. We were taught how difficult it was to get some of those things and thus a priority was placed on the value of each. Priorities were established in our home just like everyone else’s home, priorities with greatest value or worth came first, dates and movies took a back seat to food and shelter. My father prioritized his children before himself in all matters; to the point his health was often the victim.  As a young father my dad often went years between new pairs of shoes.

       While raising eight boys and a girl all growing at an astonishing rate my father always made it a priority to clothe and feed his children before himself.  In this true example of love, an endearing family value, priority is placed on the value of the children’s needs before the father's own needs or wants. 

       
       The term family values give some people the creeps, believing that society is trying to cram something down their throat. People can be turned off by the term “family values”. In college I read an essay by Katha Pollitt titled “Why I hate Family Values (let me count the ways)”, at the time of her writing, Pollitt a recently divorced mother of a young daughter. Given her experience Pollitt had more than a passing opinion on the matter regarding the world’s view of her values, prompting her to write the above-mentioned essay.  But after study and reflecting on Pollitt’s “hate” one shortly discovers that there are family values in everyone's home they are just defined differently. Pollitt indeed maintains family values what she really describes hating (in my opinion) are the values socially dictated to her.

With this beautiful and amazing life comes and amazing gift we call a free agency. Free to choose, free to do what we want and when we want to do it, but not free to choose the consequences of poor decisions. Placing greater value on the family and its priority for success is again relative. My life is a very good life because of the value or great worth my family places on one another, and the “family values” within our home strengthen that relationship to make us stronger and closer. One of the greatest blessings in our home is that we are all together for dinner. In my home, we were always taught to eat dinner as a family, and today that is practiced in my home as well as those of my siblings. It is of great value to our family and is not to be taken lightly, the best conversations of the day happen around the dinner table.

       David O McKay, a  Mormon prophet, is often  quoted “No success outside  the home can compensate for  failure inside the home”.  Family values are those which  enriches and edify the family  to be as strong and powerful as possible for no man shall be alone. As Adam lie alone in the Garden of Eden and God gave unto him a wife in Eve, that they should be together and a helpmeet for one another that they may multiply and replenish the earth. The family is the most sacred organization on earth and it should be garnished and cherished with the greatest of value and strengthened by the values we hold dear, to protect us from the ever-encroaching world, a world being crammed down my throat and into my life, the never ending battle, striving to be in the world not "of" the world. With our family’s ship anchored in family values, we stand a chance of happiness and success whatever that may be. There is several television commercials produced by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints that I have grown quite fond of regarding the importance of families at the end of each commercial the viewers are asked “Family isn’t it about –time?”

Their Last Words...

It was a beautiful spring morning in April 2001, my partner and I had just finished breakfast, and we were just getting settled in for an early morning nap when the call came in for a house fire and explosion with injuries. As we raced through the morning commuter traffic I made a quick rundown in my mental notebook of what I may encounter or may need to do after I make contact with the patient, but this takes place in just seconds.

 On that particular day I was the patient guy, so Terry, being the driver had stewardship over the radio which meant he chose the music for the day... it was either oldies or –oldies, and that meant that we were singing along to some classic rock tunes while speeding to save this man’s life. It is a form of stress management and confidence enhancement, not too unlike an athlete prepping for a big game.

 My eyes scan the horizon as we get within a couple blocks from the scene.  Looking for smoke, we saw none. At that point, I hear the first arriving fire unit. The fire radio cracked, “Engine and rescue 73 arriving.” Fire Dispatch copied their radio traffic with the current time. Within seconds of arriving, the fire captain asked for our “ETA,” (Estimated Time of Arrival). Terry answered with “we are rolling up now.” We were given instructions as to where the patient was located, and in the same breath, the fire captain told fire dispatch that we needed AirMed (AirMed is an air ambulance stationed out of the University of Utah hospital where one of the nation’s best burn centers is located). My fears had been realized. This was a severe burn.

 Upon making contact with the other medical personnel and our patient. we quickly discovered the patient’s body was covered from head to toe with burns, his clothes and hair had been burned right off his body with exception to one shoe and what I thought to be a tattered painter’s apron, later determined to be his white painter's jeans. We did all we could. Initially, he was able to talk to us and able to communicate to his coworker, but his condition worsened very quickly. We worked feverishly to ease his suffering restore his breathing and get him to the helicopter that had just landed in a nearby field. We finished the call and spent quite a bit of time cleaning up the ambulance and then went back into service just like every other call.  

Several hours later, that very afternoon, my mother called to tell me that an article in the Deseret News, our local newspaper, had run a story regarding the house explosion in West Valley City. She told me, Terry and I had been pictured in the paper while we were on the call. I went to the nearest news stand and made the purchase. I scanned the pages until I found what my mother had directed me to, “Blast critically injures painter- Pilot light ignites fumes in W.V. condominium” http://www.deseretnews.com/article/836516/Blast-critically-injures-painter.html?pg=all, with the attached picture. 

Prior to this day and this photograph, I never considered really what it is that I do--really. I am in the center of the picture holding an Ambo bag, used to help this man breath.  I am literally holding this man’s life in my hands. The same hands I used to type this blog, the same hands that I use to stroke the heads of my children, and the same hands I may use to wave at a friend.  In the picture, Terry is at the foot of the stretcher in the black vest and white sleeves, as well as a police officer (whose back is to the photographer), two paramedics from the fire department wearing their fire turnout gear, and finally the flight medic from the air ambulance wearing red and black.  All but the police officer and I are looking into the helicopter as they receive instructions from the flight nurse that is inside the chopper, yelling instructions as to how best to load the patient.

My focus is intense. My actions are deliberate. I have a small gauge on the pipe, that was inserted directly into the patient’s trachea, that lets me know if the patient is getting enough oxygen. I need to be very careful not to squeeze too hard as well as to keep the pipe (tracheostomy tube) from getting pulled out. One mistake or loss of concentration for a second and this man dies. I have a very specific job--breath for this man!

Shortly after this picture was taken, this man was released to the helicopter, and flown to the University of Utah hospital where he later died from his injuries.  I remember him talking to his employee and how he was worried about getting the painting equipment loaded up and secured so no one would steal it, and fussing over the whereabouts of his truck keys. I often think about him and how he mentioned how he was cold and how he said it was getting hard to breathe. One of the very last things he said was “I can survive this.” It is always their last words that stick in my mind the most.

I  had thousands of calls before that day and thousands since that day. I often look at this picture and think about that day, and my reflection has always been about the patient and his family and friends. I had never met this man before that day. Maybe I sat behind him in traffic, or maybe in line at the bank. Maybe, I went to school with his son or daughter. We never know how we will impact someone’s life and or be impacted by another. This call helped me take notice of people and love them for their differences.

I see seven men at work in this picture. One of them will pass away before the sun sets. I see the motor home in the background and the green grass where a nasty trailer park once was,  now beautified with wild flowers and grass. I remember all the bystanders standing where the picture was taken from and traffic strolling by to "rubber-neck" the situation. It is through this picture that I see that life is precious, and life goes on. I do not remember this man's  name, but I remember him and I always will.

This picture is a reminder we never know who is watching. I did not pose for the picture nor did any of my friends and I did not even know it existed until my mother found it. I believe the photo catches the emotion of the event. I am a faithful man, and I believe that we have a role to play on this earth, and we need to learn from life’s lessons. I believe the purpose of this life is to prepare to meet God, to learn as much as we can. My hope is that one day I can stand in front of my God and say, “I did my best.” 

2013

A life's lesson learned

       I am at the Park City Medical center preparing for my eighth surgery in 20 months, in an attempt to make me whole again, I am looking down at my feet, my tan and newly shaved legs leading the way. My doctor’s signature is donning my right knee, and my wife is sitting next to me holding my hand and indulging my morbid sense of humor as I banter back and forth with the nurse, in only a way two health care professionals can. This is after a simple work related injury has snowballed into a catastrophic line of events that has since blessed and saved my life.

       While on a routine call returning a patient back to his home I stepped out and pivoted wrong while exiting the back of the ambulance to catch the stretcher wheels, just like I had done thousands of times before. But that day would be different. On that day, my knee would pop and with that came the beginning of the rest of my life.

       Within a couple of days, the discomfort had grown, and I needed to see a Doctor. I was uncomfortable. I was worried about the progressive worsening of the discomfort.  I met with the doctors at the clinic prescribed by my employer. My injury was assessed, diagnosed and a treatment plan was established. I began physical therapy that day. Within a couple days of this continued treatment plan, I was unable to walk without assistance from crutches. Long story short I was misdiagnosed, and subsequently mistreated. This had catastrophic consequences that would snowball into the destruction of both knees and my back.

        I spent a lot of time in bed staring at the ceilings in my home, as I spent weeks and months in bed. The pain was excruciating, and the drugs were debilitating, leaving me a lot of time to myself to be alone with my thoughts and time to reflect. I spent time looking out my front room window watching my elderly neighbors and my wife doing my chores in my yard including clearing my driveway in the winter. This was very hard for I am a proud man.  I am the hero, I am the rescuer, I save lives, and I serve others in any way I can, even putting the importance of family on the back burner for the sake of helping or serving someone else. I am also the sole breadwinner in the home, and I was the man of this house. As long as I kept thinking that way, I was never really going to get better. I was continuing to fall deeper into a self-pitying depression. 

       There had to be a lesson for me to learn through this experience and education gained. Up until the end, I was fighting it. I was not going to accept the change I needed to make, in order to truly heal. I had thought my work and efforts outside the home was a measure of my success. I had become complacent with my life. I was happily married, I had a home and a young family whom I loved with all my heart. I was a good financial provider, and when home I was “recovering” from my hard day at work. Leaving the real hard work up to my wife to do by herself; I see this now, but at the time I did not.  

       I had grown through these experiences. I have learned to be more patient and understanding to the needs of those closest to me, loving, and accepting of others and their service. In fact accepting service was one of the more difficult issues I needed to deal with, not just from my neighbors but from my wife and family. When one is proud like I was, it is unbecoming to ask for and receive help. 

I have learned to love and appreciate my wife a lot more and to see her hard work for what it was. The undying love and devotion to her children and their father was immeasurable, seeing that I realized I was an absent husband and teammate. I needed to be a better husband and father, I needed greater self-control, acceptance of others, humility, and I needed to learn to love myself. I had a true calling--- not to be a hero to the world, but to be a hero in my own home. I learned,  that I am not defined by my job but by my fruit (St. Mathew 7:20)  

        I was being prepared for my future. In a Ted talk I recently watched as part of a college English assignment, I observed Sir Ken Robinson, although his talk had nothing to do with my experiences, he did say something that was profound to me. He said, “Its education that takes us into this future we can't grasp.” I have been given a priceless education in life. I am a firm believer in my faith, and I believe God has a plan for me, but I was so stuck on me that I could not see the future and what tools I would need to successfully navigate its waters. Like a teacher to their pupil, God took over to assist me in seeing my way and properly preparing me for that great trip ahead. 

       There are certain benefits of failure, but the success only comes through diligent objective analysis of your own life. In another Ted talk I watched featuring famed author J.K. Rowling; she talked about how, through her failures, she has become a success. I tell myself to learn from my life’s mistakes and most importantly do not repeat them. We must change and adapt in order to be successful in this life. We must share our failures for those who follow us so those that follow do not waste time and effort making our same mistakes. But then again we need to fail and succeed in our own way for it to be impactful to our own unique lives.

                                   

                                                                  I don't own this picture

       
       I had physically fallen only to realize the fall I had already taken. I was to learn a valuable lesson that could never to be bought or sold with money or riches. I was rescued from the depths of despair and strengthened by the ebbs and flows of life’s cruel reality. I was given an education in life by a wise and noble God, who loved me and saw I would never reach my potential while on that destructive path of selfishness. I will forever be a learned man, of Life’s lessons learned.

Thumbnail biography of Aaron Pentico

                          I was born on a cool rainy day, in fact on the day of my birth it was a terrible weather day in my home state of Utah; the following is an excerpt from the Deseret News.

-May 20, 1975: "Central Utah is hammered by extreme snowfall. Manila has 22 inches; Fillmore 21 and Delta 20 inches". –Deseret Morning News-   

              I took over my own business as a paper boy for the Desert News when I was between 8-12 years old. It was passed down to me from my older brother who received it from our next older brother, and so on through all seven brothers, and our only sister. I began working for my father in his Air Compressor Business at about age ten. I worked as a parts cleaner and small spot helper. I worked my way up the food-chain to where I was my father’s main mechanic by the time I was sixteen years old.

              I was a hard worker from the get go, I was always driven by results, I wanted to see the fruits of my labors, I loved yard work and the “before and after” of hard work.  I was always working on a project. I mentioned that I had the paper route and I also worked for my dad; that said I also helped on my Grandfathers farm during some summers. Volunteering for my church as well as my scout troop was the norm and expected.

              I was a terrible student in school as a kid, but I was one funny son of a gun! I was the class clown and no one was funnier than yours truly. I could make anyone laugh. I was a decent athlete through Jr High and high school, Playing football, baseball, and I managed the wrestling team for Granger High school where I lettered.

              When I was eight years old I joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day saints and joined an elite group of rascals known as the Boy Scouts of America. I received my hunter safety a few months later. I graduated High school, and seminary in 1993 and immediately entered school to become an EMT, this in an effort to learn something and kill time until I was old enough to be a police officer. I graduated EMT school in December of 1993 where I was then hired as an EMT for the UTAH Dive and Water Rescue team. After a few months and heard work I was promoted up the latter to lieutenant of ground operations and safety.  Work for our group was few and far between so in an effort to keep our skills sharp we became the official rescue team for Bonneville Raceway.

              In 1994, I tested for Draper City Ambulance department in Draper, Utah and was hired amongst the intense competition. I was born to save lives, I was a hero of the first degree. Within a year of getting that job, it was painfully clear that I needed more action.

              In 1995, I applied and then tested for the Largest Emergency Service in the State of Utah, Gold Cross Ambulance. After extensive screening, testing, and patience I was hired. There I spent 16 years taking an average of 7 calls a shift which averaged over 4 days a week for 16 years that’s 23,296 calls as an Emergency Medical Technician (give or take). So it goes without saying that I saved a butt load of lives, made a big difference and changed the world for at least three of those people.

              While at Gold Cross Ambulance I promoted up the latter as well, where I became senior partner, Field Training Officer, Emergency Driving instructor, and finally Dispatch and Operations supervisor where I had 3-5 Emergency Dispatchers, 25-40 EMT’s and 10-20 Paramedics under my command. My training and skills were instrumental in two major incidents, which ironically occurred on the same stretch of freeway, on I-80 near the Great Salt Lake. I was specifically responsible for the coordination and successful transportation of dozens of patients by ground ambulance as well as air ambulance to several local hospitals.

              Prior to my marrage1998, I served a Mission for my Church to the state of New York.  I married the most beautiful woman a man could ever ask for. I definitely married up, and to that I attribute my sense of humor and good looks. We went on to be awesome parents. Although being a parent is heard work.  We are living happily ever after….

              I will again seek my dream of becoming a hero, this time to my wife and children as a college graduate and to show how “KICK BUTT” it is to get knocked down, and then get up, dust yourself off, man up, and get to work. I will, through great sacrifice, hard work, and determination, again realize my dream of being in Law enforcement or incarcerated.  

        I am Aaron. I am married with 3 kids and I live in Utah, and yes I am a Mormon,mormon.org, and a nontraditional college student at Weber State University weber.edu. I love the outdoors, I love to build things as well as fix things, otherwise known as tinkering. I am a Libertarian leaning Conservative, and very opinionated. Most of my ideas and opinions come from a deep belief in God.

              I hoped to put my mental Rolodex of experiences into words, make millions, and live the good life. But life happened and all I did was put it off. Well, I am not writing the book but I am writing this Blog as a result of my College English class’s final assignment. Thank heaven for this assignment, because my memories are starting to slip away, I have taken great pains to remove the terrible memories and an unfortunate side-effect is that some of the good memories also get forgotten.

              I live in a kind of -- Walter Mitty world, I have a wild imagination and often run alternative scenarios in my mind to lighten up or exaggerate certain experiences.  For instance, I was stopped at the scene of a call with the patient all loaded up and ready to transport to the hospital, I was the driver, and I noticed a bus coming towards me from the direction I was pointed in the opposite lane. I also noticed a couple "rubber neckers" (official term) across the street. These two guys just had to see what was going on, but with heavy traffic and our imminent departure they began to run across the street as the bus was passing them, with the intent of being able to run right past the rear-end of the bus as it passed, you know with all the perfect timing in the world. In my mind I thought how great it would be for the bus to just slam on the brakes because a soccer ball rolled out into traffic causing these two goons to run into the side of the bus, not to get hurt but to make me laugh... I hope that you will join my imagination and experience train to enlightenment and joy-- all aboard.