Life’s path can go many different ways

By David Lanier Special To The Daily Record

Posted: May 17, 2009 at 6 a.m.

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Life is what happens when you’re making plans for something else. Indeed, for 20 years, I prospered as a sports journalist. Now, 13 years after leaving the profession, I’m seeking my raison d’etre — justification for existence. Originally, I desired to interview Frank Broyles upon his retirement as the hallowed head Hog. I sought a copy of a prize-winning article I wrote about Broyles for The Daily Record preseason football magazine in 1985. Kent Marts afforded me that article, but more significantly also motivated me to diverge and document homelessness in northwest Arkansas.

Because of my dire straits in the past few years, I’ve experienced homelessness from a personal viewpoint.

Many old and new acquaintances were inexplicably curious about how a college-educated journalist with a vast vocabulary could be homeless and not happy careerwise.

So many pleaded with me to pursue my writing career again. Dr. Jim Arkins and Steve Gunter mentored me with friendly, genuine approbation.

Hark, the herald angels sang to me in 2007. In other words, I had three guardian angels — Arkins, Gunter and Marts — who inspired me to enter the idyllic paradise of professional penmanship again.

When you’re down and almost out, filled with selfdoubts, don’t despair.

“Optimism is a form of courage.” Larry McMurtry, author of the Pulitzer prizewinning “Lonesome Dove,” wrote that in the preface to “Desert Rose.”

Many of my friends from the past provided guideposts of perseverance with their helpful encouraging pearls of wisdom.

I’ve also received providential blessings from Christians who’ve divinely aided me in my quest for that illusive raison d’etre.

The first sports column I wrote for this publication in 1984 reflected on “You Can’t Go Home Again.”

Kenny Hatfield had just returned to Arkansas as the successor to Lou Holtz as Razorbacks football head coach. I wrote that yes, you can come home again. Alas, 23 years later, there were moments when I wondered, pondered and prayed that I could echo that thought again. So, thanks to Kent Marts, Dr. Arkins and Mr. Gunter, I’m home again writing for the gentle readers of this newspaper about the perils of homelessness. What a strange trip it’s been! I’ve weathered several storms, i.e. the remnants of Hurricane Ike last year. Just when I attain a comfort zone, reality intervenes.

Whom do you trust? That question invokes a multiplicity of suspicions.

Another homeless dude is the penultimate answer.

The national anthem for caring cadgers is “We Are Family.”

Indeed, five years ago, when I first encountered that bewitching bewilderment of no place to call home, I asked a man at Seven Hills Homeless Shelter in Fayetteville if I could stay there that night.

He tartly remarked, “Sir, this is a daytime facility. Go sleep in the woods.” Five years later, here I am — sleeping in the woods. But thanks to David Woods, a sadly departed companion in 2008, Jerry Collins trusts me. Jerry asked David Woods in 2006, “Who’s this guy sleeping in the back seat of your car?” David Woods responded: “That guy used to be a great sports writer.” Alas, life is filled with ups and downs. Whenever you feel lost, with no direction home, just seek solace from a friend in need who’s a friend indeed. “We Are Family.”

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