Memories of the Class of 1956!

Written by Diane (Graff) Cooney

THE 3RD MIRACLE
GOD'S GRACIOUS GIFTS

The lightening flashed all around us like jagged spears, spewing forth from the black, churning clouds that hung from the heavens above us. The wild wind whipped and whistled through the trees; its piercing pitch pounding at whomever was foolish enough to be within its swirling range. The driving rain and intermittent hail rattled rythmatically on the Suburban in which I was huddled and continually threatened to come right through the vulnerable windshield unless the storm raging outside subsided somewhat.

It was exactly one month since we scattered Mom's ashes on the dam below the hill where we were parked. Four years prior to that May 30th event, we scattered my Father's ashes in the same location . . . the rocky face of the Oahe Dam, outside of Pierre, South Dakota, where Dad worked for thirty of the forty two years that my parents had been a part of this colorful community.

On May 24, 1996, Mom and her friend and neighbor, Jani Goodson, were enjoying a pleasant drive around the city. It was Friday and the two ladies had gone out to lunch, as was their usual custom. A pick-up truck exceeding the legal speed limit by a least 15 miles per hour, struck the passenger side of the Delta 88 Oldsmobile being driven by Helen Olivia (Jensen) Graff, while she attempted to cross a busy intersection on the truck bypass. Although transported by ambulance to the local hospital, both women were basically killed instantly upon impact.

Thank you Lord for being faithful in taking both Mom and Jani home quickly and not leaving them broken and clinging to life by a thread.

Now on June 30th, my husband, Judd and I were in Pierre to oversee the final sale of Mom's picturesque, little house on the corner and take care of her precious belongings. When the electrical storm erupted that evening and became increasingly more violent, Judd called to me in the basement, "Honey, how about taking a break from all this. Let's go for a ride, I need some lightening photos."

"Why not?" was my instant reply, as we dropped whatever we were doing and headed out into the blackness of the stormy night.

We proceeded straight to the area located above the Oahe Dam site, because Judd hoped to get some unique lightening photos that also included the twinkling lights of the power plant below us.

Judd emerged from the overloaded vehicle with camera, 400 mm lens, tripod, extra film, rain gear and umbrella. . , ready for action; the storm was even fairly cooperative.

Meanwhile, within the darkened confines of the passenger seat, still in an extremely emotional state over the recent, untimely death of my dear, sweet, loving Mother, I began a session of earnest and heartfelt prayer. The heaviness which had enveloped my heart stemmed from the uncertainty of knowing whether either of my parents, whose remains now rested directly below us, had ever experienced a personal relationship with the Lord.

My Father, Scotty Graff, although baptized as a child, refused to go to church with us because of a series of bad experiences in his younger years. He felt the church only wanted money and he didn't have any. Born the 10th of 11 children, five of whom died before the age of two, his father was killed beneath a falling elevator when Dad was only two years old. Not too surprising that there wasn't ever "extra" money around for anything. Dad, however, did pray regularly with the Pastor who came to visit him during his long, arduous battle with lung cancer and emphysema.

Helen Olivia, on the other hand, is the one who saw to it that my brother, Scott Allen and I were exposed to Sunday School teachings. She attended church faithfully in her later years, knew a great deal about the Bible and readily quoted scripture when it seemed suitable to a specific situation. I just didn't know, without a shadow of a doubt, if she had ever invited Jesus and the Holy Spirit to come and dwell within her heart, or if Jesus was real and personal to her. At any rate, this was the nature of my prayer. "Lord, please lift this burden from me, so that I may know that my parents are reunited there with you and that everything is as it should be!"

Some time later, Judd had enough of the pouring rain and the wind whipping to remove his head gear, the pounding hail and the uncooperative strikes of lightening (usually appearing where his lens was not pointed). He yanked open the door of the Suburban and climbed in, happy to be out of the nasty elements. He started the engine and moved the vehicle to a slightly different location, giving himself a new angle on the storm raging around us. It was nearly midnight and from this new vantage point, we realized that there was a brilliant, full moon shining over the capital city of Pierre, even though we were directly in the middle of a violent storm, howling to the north of the city.

We sat together absorbing this most unusual weather combination for probably ten minutes or so. Suddenly the storm subsided; the wind died down, the driving rain turned to a soft drizzle and low and behold, in the sky above us, appeared a beautiful, luminescent, rainbow!!! There were no colors to this night-time bow in the sky. . . only an illuminated arch, almost like a ghostly rainbow, but an unmistakable rainbow, never-the-less.

"Well, I'll be damned!" Judd quipped, as he gazed at the spectacular sight through his side window. Neither Judd nor I had ever seen a rainbow at night before; not in all of our 58 years on this earth. This truly was an amazing phenomenon that we were privileged to witness. I was so grateful that we were experiencing it together and sharing in amazement the wonder of it all.

I know one thing for sure, and that is the heaviness I carried on my heart had been lifted. God had graciously removed it from within me. In its place was the "peace which passeth all understanding" Phil 4:7. Thank you my Lord and my Savior for answering my prayer so beautifully and for this third miracle you have allowed me to experience.

Written by Diane (Graff) Cooney May 25, 1997