Cross in the Background

By Randy D. Horsak

From Daddy to Father to Dad

The touching story of William Cricket Horsaka high school football superstar who went from the football field to the battle field, finding himself thrust into the carnage of the Battle of Okinawa. He survived the horror and tragedy of war, only to continue fighting Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) for the rest of his life.

This is the touching story of a mans battles both from without and from within. It is the story of how Williams son endured the trauma of a war long finished. And it is the story of how Williams internal war was finally won by God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jul 20, 2010
• ISBN: 9781449702342

Randy D. Horsak

Randy Horsak is a consulting engineer –scientist in Houston, Texas who specializes in forensic investigations. It was his penchant for investigating the “what happened, and why” that lead to the writing of this book. Aside from studying Psychology 101 at the University of Texas in 1971, he has no formal training in psychology or psychiatry. Aside from firing rifles and pistols, and popping firecrackers, he has no formal training in combat or military weaponry. He has never served in the military. Neither has he experienced 82 days of combat on a God-forsaken island called Okinawa, in one of the bloodiest battles in American history, in which you must live a life of “kill or be killed.” He has, however, spent almost 60 years living in the midst of a family that has been impacted by a father who suffered severely from combat-related PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Writing this book is Randy’s time to heal.

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Copyright © 2010 Randy D. Horsak

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4497-0233-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-0235-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-0234-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010928770

Printed in the United States of America

WestBow Press rev. date: 6/30/2010

Contents

Chapter 1

Memories as a Little Boy

Chapter 2

Why God Gave us Fathers

Chapter 3

Honor Your Father

Chapter 4

Friday Night Hero

Chapter 5

Learning to War

Chapter 6

The Island That Changed My Father

Chapter 7

To Kill, or Not to Kill

Chapter 8

World War II and PTSD

Chapter 9

Understanding PTSD—

a Clinical View

Chapter 10

Understanding PTSD—a Child’s View

Chapter 11

Understanding PTSD—

an Adult Son’s View

Family

War

Chapter 12

Understanding PTSD—Taking a Look Back at My Life

Chapter 13

PTSD—Unto the Third and Fourth Generations

Chapter 14

So, What Happened to Cricket?

Chapter 15

Two Logs, One Fireplace

Chapter 16

Non Est Mea Culpa

Chapter 17

The Post-Superstar Life

Chapter 18

The Knitting of God

Chapter 19

Forgiving, But Never Forgetting

Chapter 20

Coming Full Circle

About the Author

Randy Horsak is a consulting engineer–scientist in Houston, Texas who specializes in forensic investigations. It was his penchant for investigating the what happened, and why that lead to the writing of this book.

Aside from studying Psychology 101 at the University of Texas in 1971, he has no formal training in psychology or psychiatry.

Aside from firing rifles and pistols, and popping firecrackers, he has no formal training in combat or military weaponry. He has never served in the military. Neither has he experienced 82 days of combat on a God-forsaken island called Okinawa, in one of the bloodiest battles in American history, in which you must live a life of kill or be killed.

He has, however, spent almost 60 years living in the midst of a family that has been impacted by a father who suffered severely from combat-related PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Writing this book is Randy’s time to heal.

As God says so insightfully in Psalm 90, We spend our years as a tale that is told.

Here is Randy’s tale to be told.

Foreword

I wrote this book to honor my father.

I wrote this book, as well, to honor my Father.

This book is about a father-son relationship. It is also about a Father-son relationship.

It tells the heart-wrenching story of how the Battle of Okinawa, during World War II, changed my earthly father—permanently. It is about the ways in which our circumstances add to our own, personal story.

Had my father stood just two feet to his left when a Japanese sniper killed his best friend, I would not even be here to write this book. And, you would not be able to enjoy it.

This book is about post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and how it affects not only the victim but also the people around him, especially those who are closest to him. The forgotten world. The collateral damage.

This book is about forgiveness—about coming to grips, finally, with who my father was and why he lived the way he lived, and why he treated me the way he did.

This book tells the story of how I, as a very young child, hallowed my father as my personal hero, until one day … I didn’t. And it tells how I eventually honored my father as a hero once again, at the time of his death. The real heart story that I pour out in this book is the time in between. The ups and downs, the fears, the pain of being a frustrated child, young adult, and mature adult, and the memories of a father who struggled so hard at being a good parent, only to come up short because he did not know how, or simply couldn’t.

The careful reader will note the order of the names I have of my father through the book—daddy, father, and dad. The order is important. In fact, it is the focus of this book. It leads the reader to ask the question about his or her own father. Is he a dad, or just a father?

Ultimately, this book is about God. Life is all about God, even my father’s life, and my own life.

The Book of Ecclesiastes (KJV) says it best:

To every thing there is a season

And a time to every purpose under the heaven

A time to be born, and a time to die

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted

A time to kill, and a time to heal

A time to break down, and a time to build up

A time to weep, and a time to laugh

A time to mourn, and a time to dance

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing

A time to get, and a time to lose

A time to keep, and a time to cast away

A time to rend, and a time to sew

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak

A time to love, and a time to hate

A time of war, and a time of peace

This was true of my father’s life. There was a time for him to enjoy his early childhood and his high school days of being a football superstar, when life was simple and fun and carefree, and a time to go to war. He never really had an opportunity to weep, laugh, and sew his life back together. Or perhaps, he simply couldn’t.

This is also true of my own life. There was a time for me to enjoy my childhood. There was a time to weep and refrain from embracing, and a time to lose, throw away, and keep silent. And thankfully, there was a time to heal.

Writing this book is my time to heal.

As God says so insightfully in Psalm 90, We spend our years as a tale that is told.

Here is my tale to be told.

Chapter 1

Memories as a Little Boy

Oh, No! Daddy is Home!

Daddy walked in the door. He was finally home. He had been gone for so long.

I was not excited to see him.

I should have been, but I was not.

I was only about six years old. At age six, you are supposed to be excited to see your daddy when he shows up—especially when he has been gone for weeks.

Daddy was smiling and acting as though he was glad to finally be home. He was so excited to see me. His stare was a bit reserved. With a broad smile, he bent down to give me a hug. I shied away.

Then I noticed something. In his hand was a brand new Daisy BB gun—my first. It wasn’t the famous Red Rider model like my cousin Jay had, but it was a BB gun nevertheless. And it was mine! All mine! Brand new, out of the box new. And with hundreds of BBs. Yes, a daddy certainly knows what a little boy wants and needs.

My sister got a red wagon, but who cares? Red wagons are red wagons. Anyone can get a red wagon. I had just got my first BB gun!

Slowly, I warmed up to my Daddy. I cautiously turned to him and allowed him to hug me. It felt a bit weird. He had hugged me before, but this was different. Why?

In retrospect, a full 50 years later, my reaction to my father is still puzzling.

Yeah! Daddy is Home!

I vaguely remember my daddy, when I was age two or three. He was so big, so strong, so fast. He could use all sorts of hand tools. I was so impressed. I remember him showing me how to tape things together using black electrical tape—a skill that I quickly put to good use by taping everything in sight.

Daddy always brought me gifts when he returned home from work.

He brought me countless pennies, which I faithfully hid under the back porch, depositing them between the cracks in the concrete steps. I was mounting my fortune early in life, and my daddy added to the suspense by keeping the pennies coming.

He and mommy bought me a huge teddy bear, taller than me, which I promptly named No-No. He went everywhere with me, and shared in all of my boyhood adventures. No-No was a great companion. Nothing like a pet bear.

But my daddy was greater.

Daddy would put me on his shoulders and carry me around. I remember his thick, black, curly hair.

He always wore boots—his combat boots from when he served in World War II. I knew he must have been a war hero, even though I knew little about World War II, or war, or heroes.

He wore black-rimmed glasses. He was an electrician. He drove a big truck, and had a big tool bag with hundreds and hundreds of really fun tools. He was so lucky to have so many tools. He gave me a few tools from his bag, and I kept them so that I, too, could be an electrician. Just like my daddy!

Daddy was my rescuer and protector. As a tiny tot, I remember pulling a lamp from a table onto me, and I started crying. Daddy immediately came to my rescue and held me while my mommy picked up the lamp.

Those are pretty much the only memories I have of daddy from when I was two or three years old. All that mattered to me, though, was that my daddy was special. Very special. He was not just a daddy. He was my daddy. And I was the happiest little boy in the world.

But at age six, when he returned from his long trip, things were different. A lot different.

Something was wrong with daddy.

Chapter 2

Why God Gave us Fathers

Fathers, Daddies, and Dads

No, they are not the same.

A father is a male human who impregnates a female human, thus producing an offspring.

A daddy is a somewhat magical and even mystical male human who can do no wrong in the eyes of a child. He is fun to be with and is the center of our young lives.

A dad is a loving parent, a friend, the best person on earth, a true gift from God, worthy of all love and respect.

Interesting, in Romans 8, the Lord asks us, as His children, to pray to Him, calling Him Abba. Abba, from Hebrew, is best translated into the modern day term for daddy or papa. Romans 8 (KJV) says that:

For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’ The Spirit itself bears witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.

The term Abba is so different than the mere term father. It implies a very real, personal, and affectionate relationship with our father, one filled with filial confidence that we can approach our father in love and without hesitancy—at any time. Whether it’s a cut finger, or a fear that we just cannot explain, Abba is there to take us into his arms and hug us. He is always there, always ready to comfort and protect. You can totally trust Abba. Always. Abba will never let us down.

As we get older, we are reluctant to have our Abba hold us. The Abba then becomes, simply, dad. Still different than just a father, the dad becomes a special person. A very special person.

I remember when my own son, Thomas, was about six years old. I was holding him in church when, all of a sudden, it dawned on him that he was in church, and that he was no longer a small child, and that his daddy should not be holding such a grown up kid. Embarrassed, he insisted on getting down—he just could not cope with me treating him as a little boy anymore. He was growing up, and wanted everyone around to recognize that fact.

In that moment, I believe, I went from being a daddy to being a dad. This was reinforced when he became a teenager and he would greet me, not with a kiss and a hug, but with a fisted punch to my arm, as if to say, Hi, dad. I am growing up! Despite this mask of bravado and masculine affection, however, we still tell each other that we love each other even to this day. I am old, and he is in his prime. I still love him, and I tell him that every chance I get.

Saying I love you is more important than we realize, especially for a child.

Why We Need Fathers

God gave us fathers for several reasons. The main reason, though—we need them.

We need them to protect us, to comfort us, to feed us, and to provide shelter. We need them to keep us secure. We need their love and encouragement. We need someone to teach us to tie our shoelaces. We need someone to pull splinters out of our toes, and help us with homework. We need correction when we misbehave.

Radio Pastor Tony Evans goes a step further, stating that the purpose of parents is to give their children a Godly perspective about life. He may have omitted pulling out splinters, but he is 100 percent correct. That’s quite a mission for a father!

Interestingly, some psychologists claim that we need our fathers in our lives more than we need our mothers, and that fathers impact our lives far more. While this may or may not be true (and certainly not in all cases), I would wholeheartedly agree that a father figure in the home is critical. A father is the head of the household. The protector and defender. The provider. The teacher and enforcer. Where the father leads, the family follows. When the father fails, the family struggles and risks falling apart.

The Bible speaks often of fathers. It must have a long, long list of outstanding ones. Those classic examples for all of us to emulate. Those who did it right. Right?

So, who is a great example of a Biblical father? Adam, of course. No earthly father to misguide him, and God Himself was his dad. He must have been a great father, since he was the very first father. Well, I suppose not—one of his sons ended up killing his other son—the first recorded murder.

Noah? A truly great man of God. After all, God spared him but destroyed the rest of the world. Well, the Bible tells us that after the flood Noah got drunk and was lying there naked for his kids to see and mock. Not cool for such a great man of God.

Isaac was an example of a perfect father, right? No, he showed favoritism between Jacob and Esau, the likes of which are still felt in the Middle East today.

What about David, the great king of Israel and the man after God’s own heart? Hardly. His family was not only royalty, but a royal mess. And the death of his son, Absalom, haunted David for the rest of his life, and his kingdom began to unravel. So, in retrospect, it seems he was not so great after all.

The truth is, even the Biblical heroes struggled with parenting. Why? Because of Adam! Adam and Eve fell into sin, and ever since then parents have been flawed humans attempting to rear flawed children. Flawed children have attempted to honor and obey flawed parents. Flawed preachers preach, and flawed teachers teach. And flawed writers write. While some parents are better at parenting than others, all fail in some respect. The question is, to what extent do they fail? And, how do their failures ultimately affect their children? And, how do they restore their children?

In Matthew 7 (KJV), Jesus spoke directly to parents by saying, Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him?

Notice that Jesus referred to human parents as evil. Still, evil parents can and do give good gifts to their children. Quite a paradox.

The gifts that our fathers give us last a lifetime. Some gifts are good, some are bad. The BB guns and Barbie dolls break and eventually end up in the trash. Emotions, however, last a lifetime. Memories last a lifetime. Sometimes both are buried deep within our souls, and like a volcano, erupt much later in life. And, when they do erupt, the disaster is just as great.

I know this to be true.

At about the age of 55, I became overly melancholy over the fact that I could not remember my father ever telling me that he loved me. I knew he had. At least, I believed he had. But I couldn’t recall him telling me. I couldn’t remember ever hearing those simple words.

Sticks and stone may break bones, but words will never hurt. Only a fool believes that. Words hurt, and hurt badly. The flip side is equally true. Loving words, left unspoken, can hurt just as badly.

I love you. So important to a human being, especially a child.

They are equally important to a 55-year old man.

Chapter 3

 Honor Your Father

God Was Just Kidding

Honor your father.

When we see this command some of us reflect back on our own fathers and think, God, you have got to be kidding. He was a drunkard. He used drugs. He was lazy. He beat up my mom. He ran around. He did not provide for the family. He did this and that. He did not do this or that. He was a pitiful excuse for a man, much less a father. Honor him? God, where is the logic in that? Wouldn’t a snicker be more appropriate?

God has a sense of humor but he was not kidding.

When God gave us this command in Exodus 20, during the giving of the Ten Commandments, He was absolutely serious. Unfortunately, they are commands, and not suggestions, good ideas, or thoughts, or something to casually write about in a book.

Rationalizing God the way we tend to do, we can surmise that while He indeed did give humanity that command, He likely intended to have a parenthetical footnote at the bottom of the page that said something like, Unless your parents are lousy parents. In this case, logically, the command then becomes more of a request, or perhaps a recommendation. After all, the Bible is quite clear that God is holy and just and fair. He certainly would want us to logically think through the matter.

In writing this book, I researched the Old Testament law, looking diligently for such a footnote, either implicit or implied. It must be there. Somewhere. Certainly, either God failed to provide one, or somehow it got omitted during the handing down of His Word. Or, perhaps my Bible had a misprint. Yes, I am sure it is there—somewhere.

But let’s change the subject for a moment, and turn to love. That’s something everyone loves to read about.

Love is Love

Love doesn’t make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile. —Franklin P. Jones.

As a child, I loved my daddy and mommy. I loved ice cream, too. And, fishing trips.

As an adult, I love my children. I love football. I love a good cup of coffee.

But is that love? If so, how?

Biblical love is defined by the Apostle Paul in I Corinthians 13 (KJV):

Charity (love) suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not its own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth.

Wow… Quite a definition. In many respects, love is the opposite of fear.

It has been said that love drives out fear.

True love never fails.

As Iris Murdock, English author and philosopher, observed, We can only learn to love by loving.

Yes, we learn to love. We emulate those around us who truly love. Those who know how to love. Love does not come naturally, and love is fickle. Unlike God’s love for us, which never changes, our love for another person can vacillate—heating up and cooling off as our mood changes, and as the other person’s response to us changes with circumstance or time.

Honor is Not Love

Honor, love, and obedience are three very different concepts.

In Exodus 20:12 (KJV), God commands us to:

Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.

Again, with additional emphasis, in Deuteronomy 5:16 (KJV), He reemphasizes:

Honor thy father and thy mother, as the Lord thy God hath commanded thee, that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee, in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.

The Hebrew etymology of the word honor is kabad, which means, essentially, to be heavy, burdensome, severe, and dull in a bad sense, and numerous, rich, honorable in a good sense. The best way to define this term, then, is through the word’s antithesis—we are not to be flippant, insensitive, uncaring, and cheap when it comes to our parents.

It is, as it were, God’s only commandment with a promise. He has promised us a long life, a life that goes well, if we honor our parents. As many come to know, the flip side is also true.

We are to honor our parents throughout their lives. When they are young, and when they are old. This does not mean that, as adults, we are to give in to domineering parents who insist on interfering with our adult lives and our own families. Such domineering behavior is contrary to God’s will in that a person leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife as He stated in Genesis 2:24 (KJV).

Honoring our parents involves respecting them for who they are—our earthly parents who not only brought us into this world, but who also take care of us when we cannot care for ourselves. This means providing food, shelter, warmth, and love. It means changing dirty diapers, and teaching children about God. Necessarily, the term involves understanding and respecting parental authority over us as children.

Speaking well of them, and being polite to them.

Showing them courtesy.

Listening to their counsel, and emulating their morals and values (assuming they are proper).

No, unfortunately, God did not add the footnote to His Word that said, except for those parents who are difficult to deal with.

Or, except for those with emotional disorders.

Honoring our parents means caring for them in much the same way that they cared for us when we were children. This is especially important when our parents are elderly or are otherwise unable to care for themselves. Honoring our parents is, therefore, a lifelong commandment, and a lifelong commitment.

Failing to do these things violates God’s law in general, and specifically, His commandment to honor thy father and thy mother.

But we all fail.

Obedience is Not Love

As younger children, we are commanded by God to obey our parents. Specifically, the Apostle Paul writes in Ephesians 6:1 (KJV), Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.

The Greek etymology of this phrase indicates that the original intent was Children, get under the authority of your parents, and listen. For this is right.

The key part of this verse, I think, is in the Lord. Leave God out of our lives, and it is difficult to do anything, including obeying parents. And especially obeying parents who are so far from ideal that the child wonders why God hated him so much as to give him such horrible parents.

Obedience is different from either love or honor. Obedience means doing something that someone