Sojourn: My Story

By Sharon Janzen

SOJOURN is a cautionary tale filled with faith and hope in the face of adversity and loss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491859216

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© 2014 Sharon Janzen. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/28/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-5922-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-5921-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014905130

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Contents

Dedication

Prologue

Part One

The Watershed

Part Two

Jonathan’s Death

Part Three

Trauma

Part Four

Meeting Norm

Part Five

The Tenderest Mercy

Part Six

Building Memories

Part Seven

Moving Forward

Part Eight

Student Teaching

Part Nine

Caring

Part Ten

Standing in the Gap

Part Eleven

On Living

Epilogue

Some Thoughts

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my husband and children with love,

wherever they may be.

Norman Peter Janzen – In Heaven, 1932–1996

Michael Norman Janzen – In Heaven, 1958–1984

Diane Marie Clark Lemke Janzen – In Heaven, 1955–1984

Joshua Lemke (Janzen) – In Heaven, 1977–1984

Jacob Lemke (Janzen) – In Heaven, 1978–1984

Alisha Bernadene Janzen – In Heaven, 1983–1984

Karl Archie Janzen – 1960, Living in Ramsey, MN

Ranata Winter – 1960, Living in Ramsey, MN

Bronwyn Louise Janzen – 1963, Living in Minneapolis, MN

Jonathan Peter Janzen – In Heaven, 1970–1984

Our hopes and dreams are rooted in The Temple of the Lord, where we have been sealed with the promise of continuing our family relationships into the Eternities.

Prologue

January 28, 2011 marks the 50th anniversary of my membership in The Church of JESUS CHRIST of Latter-day Saints. Writing an account of those years seemed not just appropriate but needful for my son, Karl, my daughter, Bronwyn and myself to have this record. They are encouraged to write their own perspectives.

Our experiences have been profound. We have lived that great Christian paradox. In the darkest of hours we have been shown the greatest Light, namely the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We have welcomed the presence of the Holy Spirit for comfort and healing.

These words are written to facilitate memory, that we may never forget the miracles and blessings that have come into our lives and are also dedicated to God that others who may be led to read them may find solace and hope.

Only take heed to thyself, and

Keep thy soul diligently, lest

Thou forget the things which

Thine eyes have seen, and lest

They depart from thy heart all

The days of thy life but teach

Them thy sons, and thy sons’ sons.

Deuteronomy 4:9

Part One

The Watershed

Monday, February 7, 1984 6:30 a.m.

"Even now, the words I write mock reality. But the fear is gone. The constrictions of body, mind and spirit are gone. We now move into the middle phases.

Michael, Diane, Joshua, Jacob, baby Alisha and Gram are gone. They have died in Gram’s car, stalled in a freak, wind-swept snow storm in severe cold weather. They have died peacefully, surrounded by the Spirit of God. They have gone off into the eternities painlessly, sweetly and reconciled. They are now watching over us, sending messages of triumph, love, joy and acceptance."

These brave, strong words were penned into my journal about 30 hours after learning that our oldest son, Michael, his wife Diane, their three children and Michael’s grandmother, Louise Janzen all died in a blizzard in Southern Minnesota between Windom and Mountain Lake, on a state highway. The first twenty-four hours were hours of blazing shock, shock that quickly found its way into the marrow of our bones.

The middle phases became a time of strength as we garnered our forces to deal with this astounding turn of events.

Sunday, February 6, 1984

The great strength came from several sources. In the first hours, it was the telephone that was the purveyor of news. The first call came late Sunday afternoon, February 5, 1984, at about 4:30 p.m. from the sheriff of Cottonwood County in Windom, Minnesota. He informed us that Michael Janzen and Louise Janzen, Michael’s beloved grandmother whom we all called Gram, were in the hospital in Windom. Wondering about the others, we called the hospital and found out that all six members of our family were there and were unconscious.

The call to Norm’s sister, Ruth Aumer in Windom

The call back to the hospital. Our family members had been in Gram’s car overnight. Everyone was being treated for hypothermia. The call to Bishop Everett Manwaring who called the Mission Home to call the full-time missionaries in nearby Fairmont. Too much snow.

A call to Dr. Rob Payne, a pediatrician who was, and still is a member of our Stake church family, who hurried to our home. He sat at our dining room table as he telephoned a request for a helicopter from University Hospital to fly the children to Minneaplis. Too much wind. Too much snow. A call to the doctor in Wondom told Dr. Payne that the Windom doctors were on the phone with the University Hospital; they were getting advice on treating hypothermia in patients ranging from a 78-year-old woman to a five-month-old baby. Dr. Payne believed he could revive the baby using a blood-warming machine used in his practice at the Children’s Hospital if there were a way to transport her to Minneapolis.

A mixture of anxiety, hope, worry, and a feeling of unreality began to crescendo as information continued to come through the phone calls. Norm’s sister, Ruth, was stationed at the hospital. She said through tears, "It doesn’t look good.

One of the doctors calmly explained to me that teams of volunteers, working with hospital staff, were administering a program of CPR and body warming by wrapping each person in warm towels. Each person had a catheter and IV inserted. He told me he hoped that these measures would revive the heartbeats.

Dear God. There are no heartbeats? There have been no heartbeats in all these hours of warming and CPR, from arriving at the hospital in mid-morning until this late afternoon?

A tsunami of reality flooded my mind. I knew they were gone.

The Cottonwood County Coroner came to the hospital and began the pronouncements. The doctor stayed with me on the phone as each one of our family members was pronounced dead. At 7:00 p.m. on the Sunday evening, our beloved son Michael was the first to be pronounced dead. Next, Louise Janzen, our dear Gram, was pronounced dead. Next came Diane, my daughter-in-law, then Joshua and then Jacob, my sweet acquired grandsons. And finally, my precious five-month-old grandbaby, Alisha Bernadene.

It was over.

Dozens more phone calls went out to Diane’s parents, Bishop George Blake, and our Church family. Our Home Teachers, Tom Anderson and Tom Rother, came to help us think. Strength began to flow into our home.

Strength comes from God, Who makes His presence known in myriad ways.The Spirit speaks Peace.The Savior envelops us in arms of love. Strength came from sensing that Michael and Diane were watching over us and sending messages of triumph, love, joy and acceptance of this resolution of their mortal lives.

Late at night, my sister-in-law Mary Larson came to call the relatives. Calls went out across the country to Florida and Missouri, to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, to Inver Grove Heights and to Elk River.

Late that night, as we set our feet upon the long path up the mountain of things to consider, things to do, decisions to make, carrying an incredible weight of shock, grief and fear, we turned to our Father in Heaven and laid our heavy burdens at His feet.

Monday, February 7, 1984

Early Monday morning, Norm drove by himself to Mountain Lake to confer with his sister, Ruth Aumer. They would make funeral arrangements for their mother at Bethel Mennonite Church, her home church.

As he drove along, he heard the news report on WCCO radio that his oldest son, his mother, his daughter-in-law, and three grandchildren had died in the weekend blizzard in Southern Minnesota. Radio was the medium that drove the reality of events into every cell of his body. He pulled off the highway and sat in the car and sobbed.

During the day, my Visiting Teachers from the Relief Society of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Diana Hoops and Pat Dorff, organized an army of volunteers. From Monday until the final funeral on Friday, loving sisters came into our home in shifts. They manned the telephone, answered the door, and tended to all the household tasks. They handled all of the contributions of food, kept records of visits, donations, calls and messages and tended to our every need.

Tuesday, February 8, 1984

On Tuesday, Norm took our son, Jonathan, age 13, to Michael and Diane’s apartment in Southeast Minneapolis near the University of Minnesota. It had been their home since their marriage in September 1982. Jonathan came home from that visit with a gold pen, several harmonicas, a radio, a drill and other personal items that had belonged to his beloved big brother. I asked him how he knew what to take and where to find things. He replied