Photographs: The American Dream Come True

Photograph Album: The American Dream Come True
1.

When David and I arrived in Arizona in the autumn of 1997, I was fifty-three years old and jumping into the future with the enthusiasm of a ten-year-old jumping into a cool pond on a hot day.

On our way to Benson from Rt. 40, we stopped at a pull-off in the Salt River Canyon, too awestricken to drive. I was behind the wheel of our old ’78 Ford pickup, and David was driving the Hertz-Penske yellow van. I jumped out of the Ford in a dead run toward the canyon drop-off. “Slow down!” David yelled from behind me. “Don’t get too close to the edge!”

I ran back to him, and together we walked close to the rim, arms around waists, and just stood there, together, in the beauty and wonder of it all.

Craggy rocks swept to the bottom of the canyon, where a small portion of the Salt River was visible, like a silver ribbon blown from a child’s hair by an errant breeze and which had landed just beyond reach. Beyond the towering rocks I saw nothing but blue. I had never seen a sky that blue. Wild blue… ocean blue…Arizona blue. Blue the color of the robes God wears. A red-tailed hawk drafted and glided a mile above the canyon floor, dipping his wing to us in blessing.

We took no pictures nor camcorder footage. We didn’t even think about it. I believe that our hearts were in silent agreement that nothing could capture and hold this beauty except our memories.

These days, when sleep is a naughty child who will not come when I call, I pull this photograph from the album in my mind. Snap! With the Salt River Canyon before us in all its majesty, I see David and me, two people-dots in the photo, holding one another on the edge of a glorious future. Yes, there we are. We did live. We did love.

2.

Benson, Arizona was very different than any other place that I had ever known. In the heart of the San Pedro valley, Benson was verdant enough to satisfy my non-desert born soul, and rough enough to satisfy my spirit of adventure. I liked Benson, even though our living arrangements were far less than satisfactory.

Rough as our living arrangements might have been, they were free. A lady-friend of David’s allowed us to stay in an old travel trailer in the back of her RV park until we could afford better. We had no heat and no hot water, but we did have an electric hot plate and a coffee pot. Braving the cold alone, David would awaken before sunrise and make coffee, then wake me up with, “Hurry! We’re missing it!”


I would wrap up in a big warm throw and make may way to the living room, where he would hand me a cup of steaming black coffee, and wrap himself in the throw with me.

The sunrise was an exquisite display of God’s Glorious creation every morning that winter of 1997 –1998. We washed the big east window on the travel trailer to make sure that we would miss not one golden sky-streak nor a magenta-lined cloud.

There we were every morning, both of us huddled under a cover, drinking coffee and watching the sunrise through the big east window. “I feel like we’re a couple of kids at the Saturday matinee,” David once said. “Except for the popcorn. We definitely need popcorn for the full effect.” Snap! Yes, I see us…laughing and drinking coffee, undaunted by the cold, in love with one another and the wonder of it all.

Sleeping in that old trailer was, itself, another experience indelibly burned into my memory. The prized Oriental and Persian rugs brought from Ohio, when stacked, made an almost comfortable bed. After the sheets, everything went on top – blankets, quilts, even our coats – to keep us warm.

David would hug my back, then, both of us turning as if on cue, I would hug his back. Our feet found each other with every turn, all night long. It was a dance of warmth and love that I will remember the way a bride remembers the first dance with the groom, the way a debutante remembers sharing the dance floor with her father. It was our dance.

I began to look for employment when even “free” became too expensive. I took a job in Sierra Vista, some thirty miles southwest, as caregiver to a lovely elderly couple. The money was minimal, and when I found that the agency I worked for was billing the clients at over twenty dollars per hour, I just knew that I could do better and do it more fairly.

David and I were excited to begin a business venture. After the “sunrise theatre” each morning, I showered in cold water, put on makeup and dress clothes and drove the old Ford to Sierra Vista, visiting every agency that might refer our brand new company, Angel Team, to people who needed our services.

We had a phone installed, and, with his engineering background, David hand-made beautiful business cards with my name and the phone number. While I went off to Sierra Vista each day, David answered the phone professionally, kept client and caregiver logs and generally ran what we called our “office.” Snap! There we were, again. Two simpletons not knowing much about anything doing an excellent job in a field we knew nothing about. It was a good time.

3.

We learned quickly. We learned about staffing and billing and statutes and laws and taxes. We learned so quickly that we were overwhelmed, and the calls kept coming. We needed someone in Sierra Vista; someone who was already there when a potential client called or a problem arose. I started looking at our caregivers with a different eye.

It dawned on me about that time that we were building an excellent, ethical company, and, also, that we were swimming in a sea of sharks. We charged less and provided wonderful care, building a sterling reputation, while the sharks circled, not wanting to raise their standards nor lower their prices. Our company was growing because it was good.

Carolyn Harris was a patient care technician (PCT) who worked for our company. A beautiful, young African-American woman with seemingly boundless energy, she voluntarily took on more and more responsibility until she was literally running the Sierra Vista sector for Angel Team. Carolyn came along at a good time. David had started drinking again, and with alcohol once more raising its ugly, threatening head, I was having a hard time keeping my emotions separated from my work.

I decided to enlist Carolyn as a full partner, and right before Christmas of 1998, I signed a document giving her 49% of Angel Team, retaining 1% as senior partner.

We set up an office in Carolyn’s garage on Raven Drive. The company was cooking; our office was a beehive of activity all day long. We joined the Better Business Bureau and the Sierra Vista Chamber of Commerce. Carolyn joined a good Church and was baptized with her two young boys.

We had enough business for two companies, and never spent a cent on advertising. Word traveled of our good work, and we were referred to new clients by professional home health, hospice, Sierra Vista Hospital and doctors throughout the area. Everyone in the Southern Arizona world of home health care knew Angel Team.

In the summer of 2000, we had a party for our caregivers. Cochise Health Sytems, the Medicaid Title 19 provider in Cochise, Graham and Greenlee Counties had called requesting our company to contract through them with the state of Arizona AHCCCS
(Arizona Health Care Cost Containment System – Arizona’s Medicaid). We rejoiced; this was a stable contract enabling us to provide services to the elderly poor. We would bill Cochise Health Systems rather than the clients. I was not fully aware of it at the time, but my desire to serve God was beginning to bud in my heart, for most of the satisfaction in our contract came not from the increase in my salary, but from the ability to serve those who could not afford private care. I was awakening.

We rented an office in a nice complex right downtown. Suite 118, 999 E. Fry Blvd.. I loved our address! For nominal rent we had a conference room, two small private offices, a restroom and a reception area. Second-hand furniture and Carolyn’s decorating skills transformed the area into a spot uniquely ours. We were home. Snap! There we are, right there in front of the sun-washed door to our new office. Carolyn in her dress-up clothes, me in bright pink scrubs, and David, smiling from under a cowboy hat. What a beautiful picture that is of the love and respect between us all reflected in our success as a company!

The generosity of our company was apparent in our Christmas party for our caregivers that year. We rented a hall, bought dinner for everyone, and hired a band. We gave awards to outstanding caregivers – award certificates, tall crystal angels, Canon cameras and printers and two weeks paid vacation-time. Our “Angel of the Year,” Connie Barros, received the other awards and six-weeks paid vacation time. Everyone received a Christmas bonus of a week’s wages and a gift. Door prizes ranged from dinner for two at a posh restaurant to 13” TV/VCR combos to Sony CD/cassette decks and speakers.
Snap! Just look at that room! There was a smile on every face!