The Story Of Me

The Story of Me

This is Josh Lofton. To look at him, you’d never know what a miracle it is he’s alive and breathing in front of you. Eight years ago, his life was ended. He was killed. Run over while riding his bike by a Ford Expedition. That’s a really bug truck.

The first thing that strikes you about Josh is his outfit. For some reason, he wears a suit every day, and he’s only eighteen. Don’t ask him why, he doesn’t have an answer; and when he does, you can bet it’s not the real one. Most days, it’s all black; black jacket, black pants, black shirt, and black tie. Some days he wears a red tie. Around his neck he wears an Irish cross that resembles a rosary, but it’s not.

This is a story about unbelievable forgiveness. What do you say when you face the woman who killed you? For everyone else in this world, the last words that come to mind are, “I forgive you.” In fact, I wager that they never occur to them.

Who is Josh Lofton? What makes him able to not hold a grudge against the person who made him face his Creator? He is a paradox. A contradiction even unto himself. A singularity that makes no sense to anyone, and maybe not even himself. We’ll never know.

Wednesday, June 5^th, 2002, was a regular day for the Loftons, except for one thing. There is a swimming pool in the trailer park where they live, and that Wednesday was the first day it opened that summer. There’s a rule though that the minimum age to swim alone is fourteen, and Josh was only ten. The Lofton family had company over who didn’t have their swimsuits, so his mother decided it would be rude for anyone to go. Josh disagreed, but there was nothing to be done. Or was there? Getting his bike out, Josh decided that if he could swim himself, he could live vicariously by watching other people swim. He was still in sight of his house when a Ford came around the corner at 60 miles per hour (the speed limit is 10mph).

He was in the middle of crossing the road (ironically, to avoid being run over), but at the speed at which the truck was traveling, and due to the fact that the driver wasn’t paying attention to the road, he never stood a chance. The Expedition bore down on him and ran over his chest and face. The detective working on his case would later tell the family that the two factors came into play that saved Josh’s life: 1) the bike. The angle at which Josh was crossing the street and the way the truck came over him created a unique scenario in which the bike came to rest on top of Josh’s chest, stopping the tires from killing him (so I took some judicious liberties with my opening paragraph. Like you’ve never fibbed on your taxes?). 2) He wasn’t wearing helmet. As it turns out, if he had been wearing one, he would have suffered possibly-fatal head injuries. What’s particularly peculiar about this case is that, structurally, the bike could not have been strong enough to stop the truck from doing what it did. In the detective’s own words, “Something else had to have been holding it up.”

Of course, what makes Josh interesting is the rate at which he recovered. From the scene, he was rushed to Memorial Hospital in the best ambulance in the city. From there he was flown to Denver Children’s Hospital in the best Flight-For-Life helicopter in Colorado. He awoke the next day with his left eye swollen shut, tubes coming out of his side and mouth, and his jaw wired shut. His wounds were as follow: a punctured lung, fractured ribs, black eye, and broken jaw joints. One was shattered into little pieces and the other was decimated into dust. In spite of all of this, he was only in the hospital for one week. He was admitted Wednesday, June fifth, and walked out Wednesday, June twelfth. His jaw healed in three months, and the only evidence anything happened was that he needed braces to fix his teeth. After seven years, those were finally removed on August tenth.

A short time after Josh was released from the hospital; he received a package in the mail. Inside it were coloring books and toy dinosaurs. It came from the woman who had been behind the wheel. She lived just a street away. Most people tell the family they should have sued her for everything she was worth, but Josh had a better idea. Together, he and his mother walked to her home and saw the Expedition parked in front. Josh had expected to feel something; fear, contempt, trepidation, but he felt nothing when he saw the truck. No seething resentment for the machine or the person who had been operating it.

He knocked on the door and was greeted by Katherine Britt and her husband. There was no mistaking who this boy was in front of her, and the guilt on her face was evident. The last thing she was expecting was him to say, “I understand it was an accident… and I forgive you.” She burst into tears and said, “Thank you.” They hugged. No one can seem to fully comprehend why a ten-year-old boy could have such understanding and mercy. The answer is simple: Josh Lofton has never held a grudge for something that was never intended. He lived and recovered, and hatred and unforgiveness would have hurt both him and Katherine. It benefited everyone to let it go.

I leave you with this: perhaps the world is in such a state of constant decay because we do not know how to forgive. We could all stand to learn something from this example. For if Josh can forgive someone who nearly killed him, why can’t you forgive someone for something as trivial as bad-mouthing you?