Shawn Trauntvein
Friday, January 23, 2009 4:24 PM
The Pebble
I remember going on a hike up behind Kenilworth with Dad. I was small. I remember hiking to where there was a large metal object behind a chain link fence. He explained that this was a fan, and that a large ventilation shaft went down. The fan was large, and somewhat interesting in itself. But besides that it did not seem of particular interest. You could not really see the shaft opening, because it was enclosed by the fan, but the shaft was apparently fairly deep—you just could not tell that. What made the fan and shaft more unique and interesting, was its ability to preserve life of the miners in an otherwise inhospitable environment. But the mine had long been closed, the fan was not running, and all we had was a description or story. Then, I remember him finding a pipe sticking out of the ground, a little off to the side and outside the chain link fence. The pipe was about an inch in diameter. We could look down the pipe, but there was not much to see. He then picked up a small pebble and dropped it down the pipe, and told us to listen. As I began to focus, I could hear a slight pinging sound. The pinging sound resulted as the pebble bounced back and forth on the walls of the vertical pipe, gaining speed, and the pitch growing higher as it fell far below. The pinging wasn’t loud, but if you were attentive you could hear it over the breeze. As we listened, eventually all of the sound would just stop. We all took turns finding a good pebble and dropping them down the pipe. In each case we struggled to get our ears near the pipe, and as we listened we could hear the pinging for quite a while, and though I was too small to translate time into distance, the evidence was enough to trust his assessment that the pipe went deep.
This reminds me of Dad in more way than one. To many, he may not have seemed particularly interesting. You could not tell what his purpose necessarily was, unless he told you. As you learned about his work and what he did in the church, that made him more interesting. Still, there are other principals and other Bishops and Scouters. But what ran deeper than all of that was his testimony of the atonement and resurrection of the Savior, and his testimony of the restored gospel. You could not tell those in just looking at him, they are enclosed in him. But what has softened my heart, and added infinitely more interest, is as I have tried to crowd near him with my siblings, and be attentive and not distracted by the noise of the world. Then, as I listened and watched, I could tell from his actions, as he bounced back and forth making small corrections, and gaining speed, that his purpose centered on his testimony, and that it went deep—so deep that it would reach beyond the mortal, and into eternity.
Date: Wed, 28 Apr 2010 11:28:01 -0600
Shawn wrote: Kirsten asked us to send some memories of Dad over a year ago. I do not know if she was able to put together what she was working on. She probably already did, so you probably already have this. But as I was looking through old email, I found this and wanted to make sure he knew how much I love him, and both of you. Not much, just a bit of prose, but it represents a cherished memory and an aspect of his character that I have recognized. I hope I haven't spoiled something that Kirsten may have still been doing, but probably not as this is fairly old.
Wed, 28 Apr 2010 12:40:48 -0600
Kirsten wrote: I only had four responses... so I haven't compiled it yet...
Sorry.
Kirsten
Shawn wrote: Oh, I am sorry. I was cleaning out some old email. I should have asked you first. That would have made sense to do that first. Maybe Mom can not show it to Dad until you finish.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010 3:53 PM
No biggie, Shawn. I think it's good for dad to see. I don't know if I'll ever finish getting the responses. I'll try again after this weekend.
Kirsten
