17. If the horse could talk
In your mind, please fast forward the calendar to early October 05. It is not because lack of action between June and October, but to report an incredible parallel I accidentally discovered. What took place on Friday 7/10/05, the place where I was lead to, linked directly to my visit to Kapunda, 4 months earlier on June 9th, 05.
Here is how the October story (I nearly wrote Oktoberfest) unfolded:
The night before, Thursday 6/10/05, my diary ended with the question: “Where is life taking me.” I had heard on the radio about a chemical spill in a southern suburb. Someone had seen a sports bag in long grass. On closer examination the man became suspicious. To be on the safe side, he rang the emergency number.
As things often do, a mild, cautious observation ballooned into a big response from the emergency services. The way the fire-brigade spokesman reported it on the news, I sensed an over reaction.
As I listened on the radio, broadcasting updates from the scene a number of times, I picked up a clue – Clubhouse Road. The locality was given to warn motorists of traffic delays in the area. Just the story by itself attracted my attention. But on hearing the street name, I knew I’d be there the next day and possibly have some fun.
The suburb, where it was alleged to be happening (nice word alleged - starts with all; insert n to create ‘a L legend’) was called Seacliff (nice word sea cliff, swap a to e … forget it).
The next beach north of Seacliff is Brighton. In an early part of my story, the clubhouse of the Brighton Surf Life Saving Club played a huge role. I wondered, if this was meant to be my clue.
The 209 meter long Brighton jetty. The white building on the far right is the Clubhouse of the Brighton Life Surfing Club. It's hard to see it clearly from this distant spot at the end of the jetty.
Driving to the scene the next morning I didn’t expect to see anything to do with the chemical spill. I didn’t know what to expect. Yet I knew, life was not taking me this distance for nothing. I proved right on.
There were plenty of Da Ninci clues: the name of a salesman on a real estate sign, a home building company etc. The name of the only street, running off Clubhouse to the east, was Manos Ct.
Another obvious clue that I was not alone or lost, was the Ute, registration number Sees victory …228. I saw it parked immediately after turning into Clubhouse Road. Let me say to any doubters, how could I have arranged all this, 30 kilometers from my home, just to make a song and dance about it?
The morning magic was just beginning. Driving north along Brighton Road, still in the suburb of Seacliff, I noticed a vehicle pulling rather strangely into a side road. It had nothing to do with me; except - deep inside I sensed something, a faint signal to do something. To best describe it, let’s compare it to a switch, which came on. Something inside pushed the ON button. The power started flowing.
At the next street I turned left. I had no idea, where to next. Initially I had in mind to drive to the Brighton jetty. But the thought at that point left me cold. (Later I went there, taking the photo above).
I wasn’t desperate to go to the toilet, but decided to find my way to a landmark property nearby, which I assumed had public toilets. I didn’t know this area well; even when I was teaching driving, I seldom came this far south. I passed a white Ford Station Wagon, registration WHY+ 3 & 5. Why were these numbers constantly following me?
The property I was heading for was called Kingston House, a public mansion, surrounded by green lawns, tennis courts and a BBQ. It was one of the oldest buildings in the district, with lovely view over the Brighton Jetty and along the coastline towards Glenelg.
I was tuned into Radio 5 AN, which normally on a Friday morning broadcasts a fun segment called 'The Backyard'. That morning, because it was school holidays, the announcers asked young people to phone in with their favourite joke. If you are wondering where this is leading to, I also was constantly in awe, wondering, where to life was leading me.
As I approached the front gate of the big property I was still pondering - Manos Ct, Why 35, Clubhouse etc. To be honest, I didn't get half the jokes the children were telling. I must be aging.
In the introduction to a little girl's joke, the announcer asked her: “How old is your brother”. She answered: "Five”. At that moment – the pain to write this is almost unbearable – I looked at the entrance gate of Kingston House. I looked straight at the number five. The timing was within a second or two, no more.
But there is more, much more: I parked the car and I listened to a few more jokes by the children. I went to the toilet and stayed a few moments longer, wondering about it all. After a short while I proceeded to leave through the same gate I had entered. I double checked the number on the gate.
In doing so I read the street name, where Kingston House is located: No. 5 Cameron Avenue. The ex-Liddy mansion, renamed Mount Saint Rose is at No. 5 Cameron Street, Kapunda. Now you may understand, why I compared it to a switch - it came on!
Look on the bottom of the post on the left. This is why I did not resize this photo.
On my way back the white (WHY) Ford was still parked in the same spot in the street that runs along the railway line. Where the road ended, just before the overpass, I read another Da Ninci street name - Bandon Street. If your head is spinning, little wonder, so was mine - Cameron, Came on, Band on, Band aid, Ban, bon, don - I was dumbfounded, where life had taken me.
I just sat in my Suzuki for a while and played dumbfounded, how ever you play that game. I couldn't concentrate on the radio. Didn't they start it all? No, the game of dumbfounded ends with a final act of rationale - all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to HIS purposes. God is never dumbfounded, HE stays in control - always.
Just now, on 1.11.05 Australia is ecstatic about a horse from South Australia, Makybe Diva. The miracle girl just won a record 3rd Melbourne cup. (More of this historic event at the end of this chapter).
On the very same morning, as I am writing about above incredible timing, an incredibly timed episode, took place. At least three dynamics came together – one, a surprise with numbers in my bible reading. Two, telling my wife about it (that was a mistake). Three, a telephone number, which showed up on TV during an ad. (Can't blame the TV, can we).
After checking my email I took my journal and moved into the lounge room to bring it up to date. My wife was just having a break, watched the Bert Newton show on television. I casually mentioned that my text from EDWJ (Every Day with Jesus) that morning was interesting. The writer must know my numbers and is using them.
My casual comment brought a very serious, almost angry, response from my wife, sitting across the couch: “So what? Look at those numbers, I could make something out of them, too,” she said, pointing to a telephone number, which had popped up during an ad on the television screen.
I took a glance, then another, then another. My brain computed what I saw in a flash. “Wait a minute”, I said, “these really are the numbers from this morning!” I said. I had recognized sufficient to see there was at least a similarity. “Let me show you”, I said and went to fetch the postcard-sized booklet from my office.
As I showed my wife, I was beside myself. The numbers were perfect. (They were the ones I had discovered originally in Chapter 28, Sand, almost three years ago, see email below).
As happened so often, because of the timing, over which I had absolutely no control, I recognized that once again, God was at work. I may have spoken too early that numbers were fading out? It didn’t look like it in this example.
To work through the emotion of it all I decided to tell the publishers of Every Day with Jesus. It was not the first time I had seen a peculiar connection, after reading their daily scriptures. In the following email I have changed only the sequence of the figures, to stop pranksters from dialing the number for fun.
Email EDWJ 1/11/05, copy to ABC Newsradio and the BBC, Worldservice
It's unbelievable, both the co-incident and the fact that my wife can't see it.
I was about to sit down and write my journal, the TV was on in the background, when I mentioned to my wife Isobel that I believe 'Every Day with Jesus' is using my numbers.
I had earlier discovered that I had written (years ago) how my birthdate 300150:3 = 100050:5 = 20010. The reading in EDWJ for October 31 was 1. John 5:13-21 (I read it a day late, again).
The incredible timing came as I told my wife, (without the details) she said, quite indignant: "Yes, look at those numbers (an advertisement on TV) I could make something out of these numbers!"
I did look at the numbers on the TV screen and was astounded. On the screen was an advertisement for a diet program - Ph. 15 13 21. Hey, I said, these really are the numbers!! I got the book to make sure myself. They really were the numbers (minus the zeros). I showed her.
She is still cross with me to even think God could use numbers in this fashion. I think she still remembers when I got excited like this once and went to a Mental Institution. But is this a reason to reject somebody's thinking?
Am I wasting my time praying every morning for my wife? We really live in two separate worlds. It's almost too much to bear. At least she could have admitted - yes it is a co-incident. This would soften the blow.
Kind regards from Australia
Dieter R. Fischer
Your safety is Driving PL us
PS Today’s theme - No more spoon-feeding. Someone who refuses a breadcrumb, how can you offer them a loaf?
PPS I just phoned 151321, they will call me back. Should I ask them about a diet - instead of losing weight you loose your appetite for numbers? This could be our financial breakthrough. No figures in the bank, only zeros. No money, no money problems - except my wife-problems would escalate.
In my mind I imagined how the circle of readers and believers in my story was steadily growing. I had hoped and prayed for my message to travel far and wide and people to see that God is real. It was happening. How exciting to think that the Good News of Jesus traveled to the other side of the world. How disappointing that this same Good News did not reach to the other side of the couch.
How to Love a difficult man, by Nancy Good.
I couldn't resist buying this title for my wife at a Lion's Club Book Sale. Only when I got home did I read the author's WOW name. Trouble is, my wife is not reading it. She must think her husband is normal, not difficult.
At 2.30 pm on the same afternoon my wife and I were again sitting on the couch watching television. One of the biggest moments in the sporting calendar of Australia, certainly the biggest in the horseracing world, was about to begin, the Melbourne Cup. Never before had I been so interested in a horserace as I was on November 1st 05.
A horse from South Australia, the owner made his fortune from tuna fishing, had won the previous two Melbourne Cups, a marvelous feat on its own. What I could not understand was the hesitation of the trainer, named Lee Freedman, to enter the wonderful mare in the biggest race of the year. .
Never ever had one horse won three Melbourne Cups in a row. Only ten days earlier the fiery horse had won the Cox Plate. I happened to be driving to an event, only 5 minutes away, to the aptly named suburb (nice word aptly) of Wynn Vale. It was approx. 3.15 pm on 22/10/05. As soon as I turned on the radio, I heard the race, the Cox Plate, broadcast live. Makybe Diva won, which drew my attention and raised my level of interest.
In a strange twist, five days before the big race at Flemington, the venue for the Melbourne Cup, I was to be in Melbourne with the supporters group of the Adelaide United Football Club. It was to be my third trip to Melbourne in 05. On both previous occasions, one I reported on extensively, I had seen magic (Chapter 45).
(At the time of writing the trip is behind me. Much magic happened again the third time. God willing, it will become a chapter on it’s own).
From an earlier trip (July 2nd 05) - the parking clock in Elizabeth Street, Melbourne, referred to in Chapter 45, Found and Chapter 4, Wind.
I can't recall, why I had not taken a photo of this on my first 05 Melbourne trip. When I went for the second time with the supporter's team of the Football Club, I took this shot.
Meter ID JE 1. Any faults phone 1300 555 130.
Being a numbers man, you can understand, how I would have loved to see our South Australian horse win a third time, especially on 1.11. (The Melbourne Cup is always on the first Tuesday in November).
On Thursday 27th October I heard that a decision about the champion mare running in the Melbourne Cup would be made on Saturday. I put myself into Makybe Diva's horseshoes. How frustrated the mare must have been, not being trusted that she could pull it off a third time? Why deny her the chance to at least try?
(The unusual name of the horse is made up of the first two letters of five employees of the tuna millionaire owner - Maureen, Kylie, Belinda, Dianne and Valerie).
Before catching the bus with the football fans to Melbourne, I felt like expressing what the Diva would have wanted to express herself. I made up a limerick and emailed it to the ABC Newsradio program on Thursday 27/10/05, 9.13 pm.
Subject: If the horse could talk
If she could talk - that's what she would say:
My name is Diva from lovely South Oz
Showing the world who’s in control, who is boss
Twice I worked magic on the Victorian track.
Why is doubting Freedman now holding me back?
Staying home, chewing oats - what a dead loss.
Dieter R. Fischer
In a little pun on words, the name of the jockey riding Makybe Diva was Glenn Boss. I also liked the trainer’s name Freedman, as well as that of the owner from Port Lincoln – Tony Santic.
From the Advertiser back page Saturday 29/10/05
The horse is not Makybe Diva, but Gallant Guru. The jockey is Clare Lindop. Lovely names. On the day of this edition (29/10/05) it was announced that the Diva would run in the Cup on 1.11.
When Isobel and I watched the race, I could hardly believe they gave our Diva Number 1, on 1.11. Later I found out, if she wins, it is her 15th win. A few days earlier I had been to the Champions Museum on Melbourne's Federation Square. The excellent display and presentation also contributed to my excitement about the big race.
If God was interested in football, rugby, cycling or basketball etc, why should HE not enjoy it, when two of his creations, a horse and rider, work together to have some fun?
Normally, to pray for your football team to win is a no, no. No different in a horse race. You should pray that God's will be done. But that afternoon, I broke my rules. I prayed more that our favourite horse would win the Melbourne Cup than that God's will be done.
I believe it was done. History was made. On the home stretch about 400 meters from the finish line, the Diva came through like a flash. The crowds went wild. Bookmakers lost a lot of money.
Australia was both stunned and elated that the impossible dream came true. The jockey was in tears, along with thousands of ordinary folk in pubs, clubs, offices and factories around the country. The trainer was visibly fighting his emotions, trying to stay calm in what must have been the greatest moment in his career.
He knew what he meant, when he said that only the smallest child in the crowd would ever have a chance to see history like this repeated.
I heard comments that even those who lost money on the race, clapped after the Diva crossed the finish line.
The jockey, Glenn Boss, after thanking his team members and family, finished by urging everyone: "Let’s celebrate!"
But it’s not about celebrating a horse or a jockey. It’s all about HIM, the winner of all winners. HE wants to be part of all of our lives, losing or winning, not only in sport, in all areas.
In the race of life, believe me, HIS will is for all to be winners with HIM. Let's make HIM room.