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Georges Hall — 6th October, 1996
Les ran a plane into a fence on September 6th 1996 and went to hospital. Friends sent Get Well cards and asked how could he do such a thing? He replied like this:
Thanks for your concern, and I assure you that apart from a few battle scars here and there, I'll be good-as-gold shortly. Perhaps the scars add a little mystery, eh? The plane can be repaired and painted, but I'll take a bit more time. Your timely prayer made the difference. Just read hymn lines that seem clearer than before. F'instance: "Through many dangers toils and snares I have already come,” and “Every joy and every trial cometh from above,” then, “Those who trust Him wholly, find Him wholly true!.”
Comforting, and then I heard, "Ills but blest, far more than charms denied,” from an old Believer's Hymn that seemed a sound word of wisdom. Yes, the prayer of the Lord's people makes a lot of difference. “We wrestle not against flesh and blood,” and the evil one is the prince of the power of the air. Pilots fly in this domain daily, so must be the Conquerors, through Him that loved us. For one inexplicable moment, it seemed otherwise for me, but he has been defeated in more ways than this. We are OK, and the plane will fly again.
Well it may be so, but I wished it were not because of me. Thank you for your care and prayer. You are special to us. Ian flies his team in October and Adam in November. They need our prayer daily, too. Martha joins me with sincere greetings, etc.
The Civil Aviation Authority called it an incident. The hospital said injuries were minor; and insurance approved to settle. All in all, it's been the biggest small incident and the most major minor accident I've ever had.
“Stay within the boundaries of God's Love” was the verse Jon and Beth faxed! What a choice Psalm, eh? And a reprimand! Others offered various support, some even comical, but when I read, "He will heal all your bruises..." I knew all would be OK.
Of course, I knew it all the time, but that reaffirmation meant a great deal. At the crash, I was so aware of the calming presence of the Lord, even the injuries seemed insignificant. It's Jehovah Jireh: "He careth for you."
Thus, the last few weeks of deafening silence have been enforced by the powers that be, namely a consortium-of-two: Daniel and Martha, and I've tried to be obedient, and do as I'm told.
I'm well on the way to recovery, with my Joe Palooka 14-stitches-chin healing nicely, (David & Jan's card said they only put 5-stitches in a chaff bag!). But the bruises will take months to go; a couple of dental visits for the grinders back to normal even though there's months of repairs ahead; a masseur on my whiplash giving welcome relief, and the chest-still yelling loudly at every turn, but thankfully, diminishing. Doctors said it was a miracle nothing broke!
Well, how did all this happen? What went wrong to blot your copybook? Ruth Barker wrote that week was the very time we were on their monthly prayer rotation, and even though the accident occurred, surely the provision of God reduced the agony, in some way or other.
Was this event in God's directive will, or His permissive will? Think of the outcome if it were not us? Say, another pilot in more difficult circumstances, or a family? Can we ever know humanly, Divine purposes? Ten years from now we'll see it clearer. For now, it's the: “All things work together for good” of Romans 8.
It was the last flight at the end of a wonderful week. The plane is Thompson's Cessna 210 Centurion from Newcastle, and flew like a dream. Garry and Annette had just returned from two weeks in the north, so Garry had fine tuned his plane to perfection.
Then, I had to go and bend it.
Brett, Rachel and Tonya were with me. This was Brett's 4th Patrol, and September 6th was his birthday! Brett's ministry with 'White Board and Pen' Bible stories is excellent in Schools Assemblies, and their music and drama filled the classes with joy, teaching and evangelism. They opened closed minds, and brought some into Christian faith. During the week, we'd held seventeen meetings at Ivanhoe, Hay, Mildura, Menindee, Broken Hill, White Cliffs, Tibooburra, Wanaaring, Bourke, Brewarrina, Collarendabri and Narrabri. About 1400 people in all the functions.
We'd left Narrabri that Friday at 8 intending to be in the office for the 12 noon Broken Hill School of the Air Explorers class. Had a pleasant evening with the Christians and their FM radio program. They take our Monday night "Fly-N-Hi" off the satellite and use it in their time slot, so we felt we'd made new friends, and offered a Christian service.
It was one of God's choice days; weather clear, visibility unlimited and delightful fellowship. After all, we were praising God for his goodness in another week of open doors in remote places. Rachel and Tonya were busily making plans when they could return to the people again. They'd made friends.
At 9.27am, we lined up to land on runway #07 at Aero Pelican, intending to pick up Garry and fly on to Bankstown, unload and refuel. Garry was to return to Newcastle as on numerous occasions before.
However, this landing was to be different.
Brett commented we'd had more difficult days inland and this was going to be a breeze. Weather and winds all good, landing normal, and all was going according to Hoyle until I realised I had no braking on the rudder pedals. And the fickle winds shifted too, with a 12-knot tail wind. Even so, that's OK, we should have slowed. Half way down the runway, with about 400 mts. to go, the brakes wouldn't respond, and I felt like we were skidding. Then, full pressure, considerably more than necessary. Every pilot feels it through his feet, and when it's not there, it's like sliding over a cliff.
With only 60 mts. to the end of the runway, I called about the danger ahead and alerted the team to prepare for impact. I was standing on the brake pedals. Considered a sudden left turn off the runway to groundloop, but I still believed the brakes should respond and slow the plane normally. We could see the faces of the car drivers passing on the highway!
We hit the trees and fence bordering the Pacific Highway at about 35 knots and stopped in 2-metres. That's dangerous deceleration. Part of the fence wire became so embedded in the propeller spinner, workmen had to cut it away to remove the plane. It's still in the spinner. Impact broke off the nose wheel, and bent the prop.
The others held on. The impact flung me into the panel gashing my chin, requiring those 14-stitches from the Oral Surgeon at John Hunter Hospital. I was there four days. My head whipped forward, bounced back and broke the head-rest off the pilot's seat and sent my headphones, sun glasses and cap flying. Next day Garry sat in the pilot's seat to figure out what happened, and found the brake pedal stem broken off like a carrot. Mute evidence I'd been using them. The control yoke hit me with such force it drove the sternum bone deep into my chest, severely bruising the heart muscles so much the doctors thought I'd had a heart attack. "A sportsman" they concluded, when my heart went into irregular spasms, but just kept pumping on and on. "Impact like that could have stopped him altogether."
That's when I mumbled my favourite sport is playing Gospel music on the accordion. At it since Jim Duffecy and Ken Hodkin got hold of me in 1946 and would not let me stop. Even when a teacher derided my playing with ... “There's nothing like good music, Mr. Nixon, and … that's nothing like good music!"
Reckon I've played that thing about an hour a day, on and off, since the 40's. On the streets and beaches with OAC; our tent missions in the 50's; churches, clubs, mostly schools and halls since. Easy to carry, few repairs, good when the power goes off, loud or soft, handy at a jamboree, a woolshed meeting or outdoors. Someone said the definition of a gentleman is one who can play an accordion but doesn't. Martha remembers it got dogs howling outback, sent cats scurrying, but it's still the grand piano of the bush. A lad at White Cliffs reckoned his dad calls them air-compressors!
"Not sportsman at all; it's accordion playing that developed that barrel chest of his," the doctors agreed. To take an impact like that the chest muscles must be beefy. ECG's, X-Rays and Cat-Scan a month later all showed I have a heart as strong as an ox, but the bruising will take a while to heal.
And the accordion will live on ... for a long time yet!
Brett at the airport, and Belmont Hospital Casualty phoned Martha, and Daniel dropped school classes at Tyndale Christian High, and drove his worried mother the 160 K's to the hospital immediately. Martha stayed overnight with Garry and Annette until I was OK. Daniel drove the team home to Georges Hall that night, where they could hardly believe what happened. Brett had his photos printed, which showed up in the paper. The hospital released me on Monday the 9th and Daniel came to drive me home.
I remember climbing out of the plane dazed, and asking Brett if they were all right. Brett said, “Praise the Lord, we're all OK,” and helped me sit on the grass as the ambulance drove in. My head finished up in his lap, blood everywhere.
Brett asked 'are those teeth poking through your chin?' I don't remember the question, but I said NO of course not! They were, but I felt only a thick fat jaw. A Dental surgeon lifted my bottom lip off the bent teeth and placed them back inside my mouth again. So swollen I couldn't speak.
When Steve Ward and Paul De Plater visited the hospital, all I could do was mumble something indecipherable about 'thns fr' cm'n'', and gave up. They smiled and suggested 'don't try that again, Les'. Trauma and delayed-shock left me so weak, I sobbed helplessly.
Brett and Rachel told me later, “No injuries here, and no trauma. God isn't finished with us yet.” God healed their bruises, too. When shall we go outback again, eh, they asked? … so revealing their deep loyalty.
The crash told us that no relationship is free of hurts. Even with those we love. Then, Jesus comes along and binds up the wounds with forgiveness and renewal. We also remembered that God's Will won't lead us where God's Grace cannot sustain us. Not even through a plane crash!
So, sometimes life seems unfair and imperfect even when we feel we're on top; and when these things come, we need to forgive life's inevitable failures, and get on with living . The Christian is saved for eternity, but some of it is to be spent here on a flawed planet earth. We're still vulnerable to the taunts of human weaknesses. God owes it to no one to stop life taking it's normal course. I've enjoyed 35 good years of flying; some unsure moments of course, but this one beats them all. A pilot's fax said,”Another day, another bingle.” Well, I hope the next day lasts another 35 years. "Wham! Catastrophe!" was another. Then they wrote, “But you do it with style.”
Dan thought Garry could sign write his plane after this, "Eat Thompson's Pies and you'll not stop!"
So, that's a minor plane incident. But where does it fit in the big picture? What does it do for eternity? What can we learn from it? Can we still hold the belief not to be afraid to take the big step? It's vital, because you can't cross a chasm in small jumps! Or the comment that the great use of life is to spend it on something that outlasts it. If it doesn't affect our hands and feet, it 'aint true religion.
Two weeks after the crash, Martha suggested canceling the Sunday evening meeting we were to conduct at Mt. Druitt. I felt good-O, so we did it. No accordion, as my left arm pumping away on the bellows drags those chest muscles somethin' torrid, but Martha sang as graciously as ever, and I just shared the Gospel as simply as I know how. That took some concentration as I still slurr trying to get words through busted teeth and the swelling! Well, several young people responded to our quiet Gospel invitation, and the drawing of the Saviour. The Pastor has more counseling to do with a Greek Orthodox 70 y'o who said he never really understood the Gospel till now, but had to check it against his Koine' Greek Testament to be sure, etc. "At my age, I must decide," he told me. Pastor won't let that fish escape. Also, a deaf and dumb gent studied our words closely, and beamed with understanding as he worked through the “Ticket-to-Heaven” object lesson from John 3:16. What a joy it is to feel the feedback of understanding … and the response that inevitably follows.
It has been an uncomfortable couple of weeks. Martha's nursing aches and stitches, and commanding obedience in important matters. She knows how to make the big decisions.
Arthur and Bonnie at MVR sent a card. Front is a pod of frogs and the text blared out, "Hope You CROAK!" Turn over the page and it says, "Again Real Soon. Croak. Croak. Croak!" I found another frog card and replied, "Yes, I'll Croak Again and Again, Just for You."
So, friends have been our strength and encourager again, in prayer and support, even when they could not know of the dangers and uncertainty of outback flying. Think of the outcome if those fickle brakes had failed way out at Wanaaring or Windorah or Bedourie, where the airstrips are miles away, there's no locals to see it happen, or call for help? We pray that the Lord will be daily with each of our pilots, and guide and provide as He alone must to fulfill His best plans. "Lord, we ask not that you promise to bless what we do, but that we will do what you promised to bless." Prayer for the teams inland ... works.
My annual IFR renewal check-flight is due late October, which will test my precision flying again. Certainly, a lot of time to think it all over. A month has passed and the CAA seemed to have filed my incident report and forgotten it.
As for the work outback? Nothing's changed. In fact, others offered to join in. There's Ian's team from Bowral which goes Oct. 13th in the Saratoga for a week, a brave journey. They'll be at Birdsville, Alice, Yulara and Oodnadatta again, places rarely visited. Graham's McDonald's team leave Nov. 3rd to return to his old towns and follow up contacts there. They carry on their ministry year by year, and we benefit from it ...
It's our privilege to encourage others in their dedication to Christ. If we expire when we die, why shouldn't we inspire while we live?
Outback schools depend upon them, as they are the only Christianity all year long.
Mostly life can only be understood backwards, even though it must be lived forward. Is there any other way? No, we can't be born at 80, as Mark Twain wanted, and die at birth. He reckoned it's the only way he'd understand it!
If God's Spirit drew 5000 new missionary candidates following the 1956 massacre of Jim Eliot and the four missionaries in the Auca jungles, His plan was best in the end. Today, the Auca Indians, who were the most savage of the world's tribes then, are a Christian community now. Gabby Kennard flew solo around the world, and though not a Christian believer said, “If it's not worth dying for, it's not worth living for!” May our little effort in Jesus' Name attract new workers to our corner of His vineyard.
Mavis Jackson at the Tibooburra PO told me on Sept. 4th that when her 73-year-old Dad Lem died there in April, the whole town turned out and his grandchildren sang Gospel choruses at the graveside. Broken Hill Uniting Church Flying Minister Robert Ruzzo led the service. A school teacher volunteered the news that it was the most moving event she's seen, and no one wanted it to stop. Such a moment is rare in a remote township like that. Could it perhaps have something to do with the glorious Gospel of Jesus Christ which came into the life of that family in the 60's, through flying teams of Christians?
So, I can't wait to return inland to the Ingrid's and Frank's and the Blake Whitehair's, and the rugged stockmen and ringers and their families, and the few Christine's and the Brian's who survive alone, to encourage them to serve Christ, win the lost and be ready, “For in such an hour … the Lord Cometh.”
Ask Glady Bowman about this. It was the music and flying that caught her eye first, then Jesus came into her heart, and she's been living in His power ever since.
Col LeCouteur, a retired pastor phoned with his encouraging word. Col reminded me of his awful Tiger Moth crash 38-years before, from which he crawled terribly injured. He went on to a full life of Christian leadership and looks upon the incident in entirely a new light nowadays.
One of our friends reminded us, “It should be a genuine comfort to know that God still has his hand on the steering wheel of the universe." And on our lives, too. The truth of God's absolute sovereignty is basic to Christian belief. God's dominion is total; He wills as He chooses and carries out as He will, and none can stay His hand or thwart His plans.
That God's rational creatures have free agency is also clear in Scripture; we would not be moral beings, answerable to God, were this not so. Nor would it be possible to distinguish, as Scripture does, between the bad purposes of human agents and the good purposes of God, whose sovereignty overrules human action as a planned means to His own goals. Regularly, God exercises his sovereignty by letting things take their course, rather than by miraculous intrusion of a disruptive sort.
J. I. Packer, Concise Theology, pp. 33-34.
"Out of the will of God there can be no such thing as success; in the will of God there can be no such thing as failure!"
Remember:
'Don't back out on the outback!'
 Opportunity down under Go to our opportunity down under page.
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