Forty Roads to Nowhere

By Jeff Potter

no about the book information at this time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798369404263

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Copyright © 2023 by Jeff Potter.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 07/27/2023

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Preface

Chapter 1 A Deal With God

Chapter 2 Whatever Happened To Baseball, And Us?

Chapter 3 Saving Baseball, And Us

Chapter 4 Far From Being Done

Chapter 5 The Haiku And The Loss Of Innocence

Chapter 6 Winning Isn’t Everything

Chapter 7 Broken Dreams

Chapter 8 Those Darn Pokes

Chapter 9 Sights Unseen

Chapter 10 A Year In The Life

Chapter 11 Sliding Doors

Chapter 12 Be Effective, Not Right

Chapter 13 Passengers On My Train

Chapter 14 Proud To Be A Potter

Chapter 15 Saying Goodbye

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My new book, Forty Roads to Nowhere, is very special to me. In many ways it is the vehicle that separates believers and non-believers, talkers and doers, slackers and hard workers, and leaders and followers. This publication is all-encompassing, as it will reveal to every one of you where you stand, what you believe in, and who you follow. Most of all, it will give everyone a better understanding of their true meaning of why they are on this earth. Thank you all for taking a leap of faith in my direction and inspiring me to author this collection of lifelong experiences and shaping them into these new writings. I would like to express my appreciation to those individuals who have inspired me to write yet another book; those men and women and boys and girls who have been brave and selfless enough to allow me to be part of their journey in this thing called Life.

First, thank you to my classmates (1972) of Lincoln High School in Ellwood City, PA. Your tremendous friendship and support over the years… and your ability to come together as a group to create great recollections for me… and great remembrances from back in the day … has been both amazing and inspiring. The rekindling of all those youthful experiences, even fifty years later, means the world to me, and has been the catalyst of so many memorable stories exhibited in these writings. As reflected in the book, true friendships and lifelong memories never quite leave one’s heart and soul, and sometimes we are lucky enough to unlock those precious treasures, and go back to a better time. You all have given me the opportunity to relive my high school experience, this time with much more wisdom, purpose, and compassion. A special thanks to the classmates who have selflessly supported the Potter Baseball Tour over the last 12 years through either financial assistance or personal participation. God bless every one of you: George Aromatorio, Nick Boariu, Katie Cagni (Nagel), George Celli, Georgia Demas, Lauranne Ferrara, MaryAnn Gavrile, Rich Herman, Tim Kelly, Shirley Klindienst (Sanders), John Krestel, Don Mancini, Peggy McIntyre (Figurel), Anita Ottobre, Rick Pelloni, Ed Prence, Sheryl Ruby (Potter), Peggy Salvati (Tonini), Sally Shaffer (Sauer), Bruce Solomon, Donna Sulia (Demase), Dave Ungham, John Zingaro, and Jody Zona (Stefanak). Not bad at all for a support group of classmates that has transpired over the last 50 years!

Thank you to all the Potter Baseball Families who collectively have created such a great canvas of life to both learn from and be the foundation to teach so many life lessons. It has given me the opportunity to participate in real situations, both on and off a ball field. Your love, support, and participation over the years has truly changed my life in ways which seem inconceivable. I have learned so much from all of you, the biggest lesson being that coaching, like life, is much more than what happens out on a ball field. The examples are simply remarkable and endless. Baseball has been my passion and outlet for over 60 years, and all of you have reminded me, and taught me, that this is truly the source of one of my greatest victories and inspirations.

Thank you to my personal family, both the Potters and Ruby’s, who have unquestionably supported me through the writing of this book through your unbreakable support, and compassion. You are my inspiration, my life, and the foundation of where I am energized and blessed daily. Everything ultimately comes back to family, and I am forever humbled by your unconditional love. Sheryl (wife), Tracey (daughter), and Eric (son), my gratefulness to you for your understanding and support of my passion of writing… and thank you for being such great role models. I am beyond blessed that we are united in our earthly existence.

Finally, thank you to all the other passengers on the Potter Baseball Express… that train of life which has become my personal vehicle for so many revelations and answers to this crazy journey of our human presence. God has led me on innumerable mysterious, humbling, and enlightening roads, and that has made all the difference in the understanding of life. My faith has been enriched a thousand times over, and I truly believe that I am on the right road to eternal peace and happiness. There are more of you on the right road than one may fully realize, and I am thrilled to be part of such a special collection of individuals.

Classmates, baseball families, my immediate family, my other family, my Heavenly family, and all others with some sort of Potter Connection … you have given me the opportunity and strength to ensure the fact that none of us are taking any of the forty roads to nowhere… now or ever. Your everlasting love and support will never go unnoticed, and I am privileged to have all of you as passengers right alongside me on this beautiful voyage through life. To date, there are 45,942 individuals that are passengers on the train, on my train, and there is more boarding every minute of every day. Everyone is an integral part of this journey.

I love you all, and your positives vibes and encouragement will always be recognized and treasured by me. We all have the capability of learning something from every individual, every experience, and every memory of our very imperfect lives. As a united group of less than exemplary travelers finding our way through life, we are all a lesson in progress, and collectively we are all far from being done.

Enjoy the book.

PREFACE

An author, at some point in time, realizes that his (her) vocation is the foundation of two distinct writing techniques: invention and innovation. The actual writing itself… those deep and inspiring moments in life… represents invention. The creating style of putting pen to paper and getting the reader to be part of the story, represents innovation.

For 15 years, I have devoted myself to understanding the difference between the two principles, and how the combining of the invention-innovation creates a complete picture of what an author is attempting to articulate in words. Through my first three books, Whatever Happened to Baseball?, Saving Baseball, and Far from Being Done, I have made a passionate effort to blend the two worlds; to motivate and inspire individuals with facts, memories, and dreams, while at the same moment exercising truth and challenges to be the trigger to entice someone to move from his (her) comfort zone. It is not an easy task by any means; one which may never truly be recognized or appreciated.

Along with this, there are several motivations to writing a book; money, recognition, the desire to help others, or perhaps to simply grow one’s personal agenda. I hope that I have selected the right road, the one which will perhaps inspire someone else to express him (her) self in a positive and passionate manner. I hope that I have picked the road to Somewhere.

To me, writing a book is a personal and somewhat spiritual journey. When done correctly, it not only divulges a story, but it also reveals the author. One becomes naked regarding his (her) thoughts, emotions, and motivations. You become part of the actual story and by the time the book is ready to go to the publisher, you are mentally and emotionally exhausted. You have challenged yourself to go places never imagined, and you reveal much more of yourself than what feels comfortable. As an author, you are willing to move out of your comfort zone and become extremely vulnerable. The logic is that because of this selfless action, perhaps one more person may be helped in some way. Perhaps one more person can find that correct road.

Just one.

At least that is the mindset I have when I begin this arduous and challenging task. I enjoy writing and challenging myself in ways that cannot be easily explained. Putting oneself in unchartered waters makes one realize that there is so much more to do, and so much more of a sacrifice to make, for all of us. One only hopes that once the book is in publication for all to read and understand, that the reward has ultimately been worth the risk.

There are two types of books that are produced daily: fiction and non-fiction. That fact alone creates two distinct roads to one destination. One of the big differences between the two genres is that fiction is meant to tell a story mostly for entertainment while nonfiction is meant to share something believed to be true. Fiction is made-up stories, although it can often be loosely based on some kind of real-life experience. Non-fiction is telling something the way it is, in the truthful way it deserves to be expressed. I personally have no desire to write a fictional book. Too many times I have seen authors of these types of publications embellish the real facts for his (her) personal gain or ego. When probed about certain questionable content in the book, the author always seems to state the same convenient response.

Oh, it’s just fictional. I was filling in the blanks.

Yes, fictional in overstating facts, but once those exaggerations are revealed, then, and only then, there is always wiggle room for the author to justify the already stretched out honesty. It is kind of a win-win situation for the writer, and I like to call it writing without accountability. That is not, nor will it ever be, my intent or desire. I will do my best to stick to the facts, reveal those truths, and at the same time, reveal myself. I want to be put out there on an island and provide the opportunity for me to be humbled over and over by the readers by stating the raw truth, and the only truth, so help me God. I am not interested in being the victim of the story.

The ongoing possibility of writing embarrassing information has never created enough personal discomfort to deter me from attaining the goal of self: self-esteem, self-reliance, and self-confidence. The mindset is to put yourself out there, take responsibility for your actions, and be accountable to others. Only non-fiction authors set themselves up for that type of scrutiny, and eventually, that type of personal reward. We are a special breed of writers, and I personally am very proud of our mission and agenda.

I hope this fourth book, Forty Roads to Nowhere, changes that mindset, whereas we all are in the same story, the same world, and the same existence. We are as one, united in a common cause. When the end of our earthly life becomes a reality, it is rather ironic that we all seem to understand that we all have much more in common than we originally realized. It is almost like going full circle, or practically ending at the same exact place that one started. The goal is for this book to wrap up all these facts and experiences with a nice bow and deliver it eloquently to the reader. Furthermore, I wish in the end that everyone finds their own truth and their own path, and that road leads to Somewhere.

But certainly not to Nowhere.

In the first three books, all having baseball as the foundation of the storyline, I have written about the positive and negative gamut of age, attitudes, and personalities. I believe anyone, with the proper belief system, can change as a person if he (she) is on the correct path…but certainly not one of the forty roads to Nowhere. That is treacherous footing indeed, and hopefully… by reading this book… one will better understand some of the pitfalls, and therefore navigate the roadblocks to a somewhat serene ride on the Potter Express.

This book is my opportunity to explain my life, my dreams, and the paths that I have taken. I have gone down many wrong roads in my 69 years on this earth which does not bring me pride and joy. I hope this fact is evident to you, the reader, and therefore it will change your outlook in the way you process the content of the book. I hope you come to understand that my intent is not to be seen as preachy, rather that you see me as one making many mistakes that I pray are not duplicated by you, or myself. As I stated in Chapter Seven, Be Effective, Not Right, in my first book, this is a learning experience for everyone. Being right always feels great, but it isn’t always necessarily the best road to take, or for that matter, the best road to end up on.

The preparation and process of sharing my personal journey has been difficult indeed. I have many, many memories that I wish could simply be erased from my life, and I have done some terrible things that I am far from proud of. Revealing these actions is gut-wrenching, yet necessary. I will take nonfiction and those raw feelings over fiction any day. In the end, there is no comparison.

But why this book now?

Why Forty Roads to Nowhere?

Well, I have now spent a few years trying to make sense of the out of body experience that I encountered in 2019 that has become the essential driving impetus of this publication. That occurrence not only seemed real, but it WAS real. To me, it was as vivid as anything I have ever been through in my life. I knew the continuous chants of Forty Roads to Nowhere meant something special, and that the answers would come to me as they usually do. The sitting up in bed in the middle of the night, the low monotone … yet determined… voice… this has been on my mind in a haunting manner daily. The experience had a spiritual overtone, as I knew Who was sending the message, and why it was being sent to me. I also understood at that moment what ultimately needed to be done.

Like the first three writing experiences, I was to author another very special book indeed. It has all been preordained. My strategy was that I would take the best parts of each of the first three books, add newfound wisdom from the last five years or so of my personal life, and incorporate all those thoughts and emotions into this undertaking. All the pieces were in place, and it was now simply a matter of execution. Life has always been about execution.

Every time someone has asked me over the last few years about writing another book, I have related to them my out of body experience and need to fulfill this obligation. There was only one obvious name for the publication, and I knew the remainder of the words and inspiration would come later, at the perfect time. Who knew the missing puzzle pieces would ultimately involve the health of my brother, and myself! Who knew that so many people would reveal themselves, good and bad, to complete this mission!

From that day forward… over four years ago… I have spent a tremendous amount of time rereading my first three books, looking for breadcrumbs along the path… some kernel of knowledge or faith not yet revealed. Whatever Happened to Baseball?, Saving Baseball, and Far from Being Done were written from scratch, with no real road map to any of the content of the books. Looking back now with my eyes wide open, I realize those three writings were filled with a lot of wisdom, a hint of passion and faith, followed by many subliminal revelations. I can see that now, and it has been my calling to complete this task with this summation.

I mean, with all my personal accounts of the last 20 months… two seizures, brain cancer, two surgeries, radiation, chemo, the passing of my oldest brother, the end of my baseball tour, the selling of my house, I think I now have the correct mindset to neatly wrap up my personal story. I believe with all my heart this is my directive, and I understand the message that had been sent to me in a divine manner.

Jeff, teach what you have learned. Lead MY people, MY train, to the right road.

As Benjamin Franklin so astutely stated,

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

I hope through this book that I have done both.

This adventure may help save all of us and may indeed put us on the right road.

CHAPTER 1

A DEAL WITH GOD

We waste our time waiting for a path to appear. But it never does because we forget that paths are made by walking, and not waiting. We forget that there’s absolutely nothing about our present circumstances that prevents us from making progress again.

As I sat in my favorite chair on that rather cold and dreary December morning, it all hit me like a ton of bricks. There was certainly an abundance of information to take in. My emotions were running rampant, and logic was not anywhere close by. Perhaps I was unraveling a little more than usual. Months of trying to be strong and brave were maybe… just maybe… getting the best of me. I had been through my own personal hell and back, and the collective facts were a bit overwhelming. Parts of my life seemed to be overwhelming me a bit more than normal. There was just so much stuff to process on this day, at this moment in time. It was the perfect storm of uneasiness. I mean, why the unrelenting chants of Forty Roads to Nowhere? Why a brain tumor? Why a train? Why a baseball tour? Why was it so important to reunite with classmates? Why have I recently reached out to former employees and co-workers as a random act? What is the real meaning of the hundreds of youth baseball memories filling my head this morning? How can being so close to death become so liberating? How do all these independent thoughts and actions come together to make sense of anything? Or everything? Why is this all thrown in my lap this morning, and at this very moment?

All I really wanted to deal with this morning was to take a drink of my coffee and staring out the back window. Perhaps like most days I would catch a glimpse of a couple of deer peacefully standing near a tree, a few squirrels running up and down the fence, or some chirping blue jays. I just wanted to relax for a minute. I wanted life to be comforting and easy for me like it has been the last few weeks, whereas there was nothing in my head and heart but compassion and joy. If this wasn’t enough junk to process, there was one more major question to ponder in the coming months.

How can a deal with God come true in its purest sense?

How is that even possible?

I have wondered all my life about so many irrelevant thoughts, and now… now that I am dealing with my own mortality… the really important issues have pushed themselves to the forefront. And I am still trying to figure it all out. Every time I feel that I am closing in on the answers, there has been an experience that seems to leave nothing but a huge question mark, and certainly no comforting or logical solutions. I suddenly have become reflective, as I ask myself, Has anything that I have done in life really had any effect on my end game? Am I really a good guy? What exactly will be my legacy? And in the long run, will anyone even care, or remember Jeff Potter?

Before I attempt to tackle those all-consuming questions, I believe I will take a moment to reheat my coffee before having another sip. Life has been tough lately, perhaps a bit too difficult to tackle without some sort of spiritual help. Perhaps this is the moment in time where everything stops, and I can catch my breath. Maybe God will once again save me in some way, and perhaps another moment of peace will surround me. At this exact moment in time, coffee in hand, I closed my eyes, I breathed, I prayed, and I suddenly could see and feel more than I thought possible.

It happened one more time!

My eyes were opening wider than I could have ever imagined.

My heart was opening more than I could have ever comprehended.

My life was discovering answers, and more importantly, my life was finding some real meaning. All of this occurred in the blink of an eye.

Life in general has become calm and surreal. Yes, I do have anxiety occasionally, but overall, I can see God’s miracles at work. Some have been directed to me, and for that, I am beyond grateful. It hasn’t come without a sacrifice, however. Nothing in life happens without a sacrifice.

It all started when God and I made a deal.

At least, this is how I have processed the events that took place on Wednesday, September 21, 2022, about three months earlier. That was the day of my surgery… my second surgery… the day that may have changed everything. This agreement perhaps was not a deal in the way God looks at things. I am quite sure He doesn’t make deals with anyone. A deal described by the Webster dictionary is an agreement entered into by two or more parties for their mutual benefit, especially in a business or political context.

There is nothing mutual about God.

He doesn’t need to make deals.

He is not leveraged by anyone, or in need of anything. His existence is beyond human explanation. In short, He puts out love and support and encouragement and allows all of us to make choices in our personal lives. His deal with me has evolved into my personal choices of heading down the right road, and His undying love has been my acceptance. Finally, I understood… truly understood.

And it has made all the difference.

That day in September of 2022 was a tough one for all of us; me, my immediate family, my extended family, and all the individuals who had boarded my train. I felt that somehow, we were all in this story together. We were all connected.

There I was, lying on an operating table surrounded by a team of doctors, all there to at a minimum figure out whether my cancerous tumor was growing, and at the maximum, they were there to potentially save my life. I was helpless, but certainly not hopeless. I understood I had lost all control of the situation, but in some divine and surreal manner, I was as happy as I have ever been in my many years on this earth.

Truth is, I never had control.

Truth is, none of us really do.

At times we all just arrogantly think we do.

The surgery that day was a symbolism of my life, and your life. We have no command over our existence, and what we try to control is done through our personal faith… whether we want to believe it or not. We trust in certain things, and we believe that by carrying out those random acts we will in the long run be fine. That is called faith. It’s not always about staying strong. It’s about staying true to yourself even during the difficult parts of your life. I have learned through the years, since my first book, how much God controlled the narrative, how words flowed so freely from Him to me. There was also symbolism in that first book. It was not only Whatever Happened to Baseball?, as the title states, but the broader picture of what happened to us. It wasn’t just about baseball, and this surgery wasn’t just about me.

On this day, my life was in God’s hands.

Like a year earlier, my fate was with my Creator.

Faith is a powerful force, but sadly, lots of people have none.

They possess one of those forty roads to Nowhere… cynicism (#7-cynical). Something happened to them in life, a traumatic experience, a loss, a setback, something truly heartbreaking. It is simple for us others to understand and relate to, but not always easy to watch the experience play out. The bitterness (one of those roads to Nowhere, #5) and grief are overpowering to them, and in a way, it is a defense mechanism. I don’t walk in their shoes, and I try my best not to judge these individuals in any way. They deserve that respect from me, and I need to understand their battle that is being fought in their own manner, with their own demons. A high majority of these people are dear friends of mine, and the experience of seeing their suffering is gut-wrenching. I do believe that there are way too many people living their daily lives in this category, and I simply wish it was different. I continually pray that they all could believe on some level in the power of God, that they just allow themself to be true believers.

Others who do not seem to fit into this first category of having a personal issue with God simply don’t believe that there is a God, which in a way, is much sadder. In their mindset, life is too depressing, too ugly, or too difficult to understand. How could God do this, or do that? How could He let terrible things happen? How could He take away the young and the innocent? Why does He not eliminate disease, especially for young kids? Why can’t He be a compassionate God? I have heard those remarks more times than I would like, and to be honest, I have never had the right response to those hurting friends. In my mind, these confidants are somewhat lost. They need to see the light and the truth. They need to witness a miracle, believe in that miracle, and appreciate the power of that miracle. I feel for all of them that they have not understood the wonders that occur every day in this world. If they would just look at a child playing outside, or a beautiful sunset, or an illness inexplicably disappearing from a person’s body. If they could just focus on the good in the world, the good deeds, and good random acts of kindness. I understand that it is harder than it looks. I really do understand.

On this day I needed to stay strong and stay true to myself… during the most difficult time of my life. It would not be easy. I needed my own miracle, and I certainly was praying for one. I have not lost faith. Matter of fact, my spiritual life has become robust… which has brought me much comfort and serenity recently.

Luckily, both this surgery and this diagnosis on this day were in fact uplifting. The cancer was gone… it was indeed one of those real phenomena. I not only did not need to continue to worry about this disease, but for the first time in a year… in 365 days… I could visualize, and therefore, plan a future. I could think further down the line than the next day. I could dream about taking kids to Cooperstown, helping with the CureSearch hike, building an addition on my daughter’s house, vacationing, experiencing more Thanksgivings, and watching my grandkids grow up. Although not in the clear by a longshot, I could think about what it meant to be far from being done and fulfilling some of those projects. I could appreciate what others take for granted daily, and how we all have become helpless pawns in a national epidemic of entitlement and loss of self. I could see a miracle that was staring me in the face. I could see it, live it, and become it. I was no longer scared, rather a surreal and comforting existence was now my norm.

But it wasn’t always like this.

I remember almost a year earlier… almost the exact same date. I was immediately thrust into my then-present situation as of Monday, September 20, 2021. I was unaware of any of the happenings from about 1:00 P.M. on that fateful day, but I do recall the following three days and nights. There were lots of tubes and blood and pills. I was poked and prodded and jabbed. There were visits from Sheryl and Tracey, my wife and daughter. My son Eric also made the trip up from Chesapeake, VA, but he unfortunately never had the opportunity to see me, although his presence was certainly felt.

I never asked the doctors my prognosis because that would have created more pain and heartache for the people that I love the most. I simply went through the motions that whole week, trying to steer clear of what exactly was going on with me. I assumed that answer, and many other answers, would come soon enough.

And they did.

Dr Liang, my surgeon, visited with me on Thursday, September 23, 2021, with the results of the scan of my body. The short answer was that I had a brain tumor, one in which no one had any idea of whether it was cancerous or not. There were two options put forward by the doctor. In my opinion (and the family) the tumor simply had to be taken out. The surgery would be the next day, on Friday, and he would be personally performing the procedure. He asked me if I wanted to know the specific details of the operation.

No thanks.

I am not good with blood and squeamish things, and you are going to open my head with a scalpel, and you want to tell me about it in detail? I think I will pass, just explain those gory details to my family. Let’s just do it.

A funny thing about surgery.

A team of doctors will prep you, sedate you, take an instrument and open your head, remove a brain tumor, and then staple up your skull. All in three hours. It sounds nasty, painful, perhaps even a bit barbaric. But, the next morning, I was home watching TV. Yes, I still had bandages wrapped around the incision and more staples than I cared to count, and the usual pills for pain and infection, but I was home. I was so happy to be there, in my chair with Sheryl and Tracey nursing me back to health. Everyone likes to be pampered a little, and I am no different, and I took full advantage of the situation. God and I had not spoken yet of any type of agreement, although I was certainly looking forward