When Superheroes Fall

By Sandee Lester

Rick and Sandee Lester thought they were Superman and Wonder Woman with an invincible relationship. "When Superheroes Fall" is a brutally honest account of how they almost destroyed their marriage. Along with their trials and disappointments, Sandee also shares some humorous anecdotes about Air Force living, marrying a fighter pilot, motherhood, traveling around Europe, an some serious moments about infidelity and about going to war. Most of all, she tells the story of how God saved her and her marriage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CrossLink Publishing
• Release date: Jul 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781633570429

Sandee Lester

Sandee Lester has shared a marriage ministry with her husband for over twenty years. She speaks to women's groups and writes a weekly blogpost on marriage. Sandee is also the author of "When Superheroes Fall" - the story of how God saved her and her marriage.

Book preview

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to my real-life Superman, my husband, Rick. Without his determination, his strength, his love for me and his faith in God, this story would not have had a happy ending. I am grateful for his never-ending devotion, especially at the ugliest time of our marriage when most people would have quit. Thank you, my Superman, for always loving me and always seeing the best in me. I love and adore you and look forward to the next thirty years!

FOREWORD

S andee Lester has provided one of the most interesting and insightful looks into the causes of marital frustration and breakdown that I’ve seen. Utilizing her own interesting and personal story about her marriage to Rick, an F-15 fighter pilot, Sandee examines and expands on the dynamics of how marriage can evolve from excitement and bliss to boredom and the loss of love. The reason so many marriages end in boredom and the death of romance is that so many depend on their spouses for personal fulfillment and happiness and their unwillingness to probe into their own problems and shortcomings; especially their upbringing.

In my decades as a pastor, author and conference speaker, I am convinced that marriages are sabotaged by an inordinate dependency on the other person to make them happy and the failure of communicating innermost feelings, dreams and needs.

With much humor, wisdom and transparency, Sandee draws us into the world of her funny where we can see parallels in our own lives. Her insights into parenting are fresh and applicable and her season  of withdrawal and isolation from her husband are very real and mirrors the plight of many wives and husbands today.

When Superheroes Fall will give strategy, hope and faith to troubled marriages and give strength to stable marriages. This is a must read for anyone looking to improve or save their marriage. I heartily recommend it.

––––––––

David Garcia, Lead Pastor

Grace World Outreach Church, www.gwocag.org

INTRODUCTION

Honey, when you marry me, you’ll be joining the Air Force," commanded Rick in his best fighter pilot voice.

Yeah, okay, whatever, I quietly muttered to myself. I had no idea what he meant. So head-over-heels in love, so eager to start my new life with this man, the threat of shaving my head and taking away my eyeliner, forever, would not have stopped me from marrying Rick. I didn’t understand that, yes, I would essentially be joining the Air Force. I would miss out, though, on the benefits of carrying rank on my shoulders that demanded instant respect. I would not have to go to work for the Air Force every day, but I would certainly put in my share of hours. Occasionally, they would be equal to a full time job with no pay. At times, I would feel like the lowest Air Force priority as a military spouse. My life would not be my own; Rick’s career would determine our destiny.

>At first, the military life fascinated me, an adventure I anticipated. I quickly learned the impact this lifestyle would have on my marriage, my existence. When the realities of facing loneliness, living far from family, raising children, dealing with marriage problems, and losing loved ones surfaced, the military lifestyle became the enemy.

In only a couple of years, I found I had engaged in battle, a battle for my life. I lost track of who I was, unable to find my purpose. Sure, I excelled at hosting parties, chairing a women’s group, or acting as the commander’s wife, but that was all superficial. On the inside, I felt empty, lost. I was searching for something.

I wanted to blame my struggles on the Air Force and my husband’s loyalty to it. After all, where did I fit in Air Force priorities when oncoming hurricanes threatened our homes? Did the Air Force care that I had to prepare and evacuate my home numerous times without my husband while he flew off to save one of its airplanes? Where did I fit in all the new towns to which the Air Force sent us? Void of friends and family, I spent day after day taking care of our children, alone, while my husband worked late, or jetted to Europe for a month at a time, or worst of all, flew off to war.Where did I fit in my husband’s priorities? He claimed I was number one, but his actions spoke differently. The Air Force was his true love.

I did not belong anywhere. Every two or three years, the Air Force plucked me from the rich soil where I longed to expand my roots, only to replant me somewhere else as a seedling, starting over once again. The soil of a foreign country was the greatest challenge. I floundered like a palm tree struggling to survive the cruelty of frozen land. I didn’t know how to bloom where I was planted.

The relentless search that most of us face to find ourselves can take us through endless valleys and occasionally, over colossal mountaintops. This fabulous thing called life is a continuous learning experience, a school we attend until we die. I didn’t realize how much I needed to learn.

Unfortunately, I  enrolled  in  the  wrong  school.  The school of the world can lead you on a fast track to destruction, exactly the direction I headed.

At the point of my greatest test, my hugest battle, my lowest valley, I almost divorced my husband. That would have been the utmost tragedy of my life. Then, God stepped in and got my attention. He got Rick’s attention too. Only then could I figure it out. Only then did I learn who I was and my purpose for living. I realized the Air Force hadn’t been my enemy at all.

Sit tight as I take you on a roller coaster ride through valleys and mountaintops, to reveal this battle for my life and for my marriage. Let me take you on a journey that saved my soul.

Chapter One

SUPERMAN MEETS WONDER WOMAN

It makes perfect sense that Superman and Wonder Woman would meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after, the American dream. Like Cinderella meeting her Prince Charming, most people (at least most women) fantasize about a fairy tale meeting with the person who will sweep them off their feet to ride into the wild blue yonder and live happily-ever-after. No different from any other love-hungry, romance- crazed young adult, I searched for that one person I would share the rest of my life with in marriage. When it happened, like a fairy tale, I let myself get swept up into the excitement and expectations of happily- ever-after, oblivious to the hard work needed for a successful marriage.

I never dreamed I would go all the way to Korea to find my soul mate, the love of my life, my Superman. For me, the path to my Korean destination began as a child. Ever since I can remember I have loved to perform for people, from the time I would do silly imitations as a child to playing roles in our high school productions as a teenager. I  started taking organ lessons at the age of seven and always participated in one of the church choirs

I remember so well the anticipation and excitement of my first solo at age six, singing the second verse of Away in a Manger. I realized I sang the wrong verse when the boy after me repeated what I sang. Fortunately, that experience did not stop me from pursuing the joy of getting up on stage. As I grew older, singing and playing the piano became my passions.

I attended college for one year after high school and struggled with campus life. My parents divorced the year before, and I had difficulty adapting to all the changes I faced. I thought my mother needed me at home to help her through this devastating time, so I left school for the summer and never returned.

I worked as a secretary for a few years after college. I hated the confinement of an eight-to-five job, and so I pursued my desire to go on the road with a band. After numerous auditions, I joined an all female show band called Babe, mostly because of a jealous boyfriend who opposed the idea of me traveling with other men. The band consisted of four musicians and three dancers. We performed two floorshows and played top-forty dance music in hotels and clubs around the country. I played the keyboards and sang.

I didn’t enjoy life on the road. The everyday stress of living, traveling, and working with six other women caused great anxiety for all of us. Hormones rampaged continuously with so many females. The constant attention from men flattered me though, and along with my love of being on stage, made life bearable.

Babe performed at numerous Air Force bases in the United States. Because of our success with the mostly male audiences, PACAF (Pacific Air Force) contracted us to travel in the Far East and entertain at various military bases throughout.

The attention I fondly welcomed from men soon became a nuisance when we visited the Far East. At that time, American women were a rare delicacy to the military men stationed in obscure places such as Korea. Most of these men had forgotten the importance of social graces in trying to gain the attention of a female, all of them except one. I met Rick Lester in July of 1979 at the Open Mess of Taegu Air Base, Korea, where the band ate lunch when we first arrived. The club manager seated our group with the fighter pilots (the cream of the crop he told us), and I found myself sitting across the table from a pilot with a nametag that read Moe Lester. (Molester - get it? Moe was his fighter pilot call sign or nickname, his last name, Lester). I initially responded with hesitation, but his warm personality and wonderful sense of humor soon eased my mind. Rick tells everyone it was love at first sight, for him and five hundred other guys.

That night Rick and his friend, Hoss Jones, came to our show, each of them dressed as Superman. They found a Korean tailor who made a perfect imitation of the original Superman costume. Rick (alias Moe) got up on stage and took a bite into a full beer can, a talent he liked to share with a captive audience. The movie Superman premiered in Korea that year, and Rick and Hoss spent their spare time going to theaters in their costumes to entertain the children. They dazzled the kids with their tricks and convinced them they were the real Supermen.

During our show, the leader of Babe introduced us by nicknames we picked out for each other. The girls called me Wonder Woman because I resembled Linda Carter (from the original television show) when I wore my hair pulled back, and we shared the same Amazon-like stature. How appropriate it seemed for Superman and Wonder Woman to join forces.

Rick came to every show we performed in Korea no matter how far he had to travel. Talking with him was easy; I could tell him anything. He behaved very politely and never tried to finagle a date from me as the other guys on base had.

Later, I learned he had every intention of enticing my time from me. He used a unique approach from the others, the Eddie Haskell approach as we called it. (Eddie Haskell was a smooth-talking character from the old Leave it to Beaver show that charmed adults with his words so they wouldn’t notice the schemes he plotted.) Rick quickly learned what worked on me; he bought pizza nightly and brought it to me between our shows. As a poorly paid musician, I cherished any free food that came my way.

The band and I spent one month in Korea, giving Rick and me time to become acquainted. He called me regularly, and we would easily spend an hour talking on the phone. On our last night together, our relationship jumped to the next level. Rick kissed me for the first time, and I remember feeling like my knees would buckle out from under me. Babe was leaving for the Philippines the next day, and fortunately, Rick planned to visit us there.

As an F-4 pilot, Rick could go TDY (temporary duty) anywhere his commander, Col. Charlie Brown, approved. (Col. Brown knew about me and willingly facilitated Rick’s travels.) The day before Rick’s scheduled arrival to the Philippines, we were forced to leave the island because of an oncoming typhoon. Our romantic rendezvous fizzled into the storm with all desires put on hold. Rick and I didn’t see each other again during the rest of the tour.

Most of the members of Babe decided to leave the band when we returned to the U.S. Too many harsh words and difficult situations lingered between us. I headed home to Pennsylvania and along with a very talented musician friend of mine, started aband. I dabbled in other odd jobs and began my own singing telegram business.

Rick stayed faithfully in contact with me. I received letters from him at least every other day, and we talked often on the phone. Six months later, when he left Korea, Rick came to visit me. He picked up a brand new, silver Corvette from the factory in St. Louis and stopped in Pennsylvania on his way to Florida to visit his parents.

I started dating an ex-boyfriend again, and Rick realized our relationship had changed. He came to visit anyway. What a smart move for him; he won the heart of my mother, who thinks that Rick is the most wonderful person on the face of this earth.

Looking back, I’m surprised Rick didn’t cut off all communication with me after that visit. Not very receptive to his friendship, I behaved rudely to him. After Rick moved to Phoenix, Arizona, he continued to call me, and we picked up where we left off, as friends.

I remember long discussions on the phone with Rick about relationships and the difficulties of meeting nice guys. He always responded with some soothing answer for me, and I respected his wisdom and his faithful friendship. I knew Rick was something special, but the distance and my own desires for my career kept me from pursuing a deeper relationship with him.

Whenever I complained about men to my mother, she always replied, Well, what about Rick? He is such a wonderful person.

Most twenty-two year olds don’t realize how important it is to find someone who’s nice, mature, loving, and most of all, your best friend. They’re usually too busy looking for Richard Gere  or Brad Pitt in all the wrong places. My career plans included no time for a relationship. I intended to move to New York and make it big in show business. Richard Gere or Brad Pitt certainly waited for me in New York.

Rick invited me to visit him in Phoenix and offered to buy me an airline ticket. I attempted the trip a few times, but something always kept me from going. Finally, on October 12, 1980, sixteen months after we met, I got on an airplane and headed for Phoenix, Arizona.

I’ll never forget the apprehension I felt on that flight. What if I got there and didn’t enjoy Rick’s company anymore? What if he intended something more than a friendly visit?