Indestructible
Before you officially meet Greg Beard, you need to know something. When Greg was 6 years old, he and his family lived in Florida. On a fateful day, Hurricane William was gathering steam and was headed for landfall in Florida fast. Hurricane “Bill” was already a Class 4 and was expected to be at least a 5 before it came ashore. The Beards were evacuated by bus along with several other families. Mom, Dad, Greg’s 15 year old brother and 10 year old sister got on the bus, but Greg slipped away to go back to get Harold, his young kitten. Of course, Greg was left behind.
Several miles down the road, the Beards took a headcount and came up with only 4. Panic broke out and Mr. Beard tried to get the bus driver to go back for his son, Greg. The driver couldn’t stop because that was the last bus out. Mr. Beard started having chest pains and gasping for breath. The driver pulled into the first hospital, dropped off the Beards at the Emergency Room, and continued with the rest of his passengers toward safety. Mr. Beard was stabilized as the storm engulfed the area. Nobody could go anywhere until Hurricane “Bill” passed through.
Meanwhile, Greg couldn’t find Harold anywhere in the yard at home. The storm was getting closer, so Greg figured he had better find cover. Greg spied the cat door and dove for it to get into the secured house. He got about halfway in and he was stuck! That was when Harold came running up and started licking his face. Greg giggled and tried to stop Harold from licking him while he wiggled himself into the house completely. He barely managed to get in, picked up Harold and ran for the bathroom. He remembered someone saying that it was the safest room in the house. By the time Greg and Harold got to the bathroom and climbed into the bathtub, the storm was over them. The walls of the house breathed as the storm rolled in, they were actually flexing with the movement of the storm. Pops and cracks seemed to be all over the place. Part of a rafter broke loose, dug into the wall above the tub and landed across the outer edge of the tub wall. When the second rafter broke and came down, it made an “X” across the tub. Other debris broke loose, slid down the “X” and covered the tub like a tent.
The next day arrangements were made for Mr. Beard. His daughter stayed with him while Greg’s mom and brother went back to find Greg. When they finally got back to the house, her heart sank. There didn’t look like much had survived the storm. She called Greg’s name and when he answered, she scrambled through the rubble and attacked it with her bare hands like a mad woman. Greg’s brother hollered “Mom! Mom! It sounds like he’s in the kitchen.” They ripped away the remaining cabinet on that wall and could see Greg through the hole. They tore away the rest of the drywall and got Greg and Harold out of the bathtub fort. Neither had suffered so much as a scratch; scared as all get out, but not hurt at all.
Ten years later, Greg’s true colors were unfurled in the wind for all to see….or at least for anyone who wanted to see. Greg became cockier each day. He thought he was God’s gift to the world. Greg was showing off for the girls and drag racing cars when a tire blew and he took a header into the ravine. The car pitched and heaved as it plowed down the sides of the ravine. When it finally came to rest, the car was totaled. But, again, Greg walked away without even a scratch.
At 18, Greg started racing cars for a living. He won several races in a row, built a reputation and earned the nickname of “Ice Man”. He won mainly because he knew no fear whatsoever. When he was 20, he was racing and blew the motor. The car flipped end-over-end, totally destroying the it until the only things that remained were the crash cage and Greg. And again, not even a scratch.
As we join Greg now, he is 22 years old and getting ready for a date. Looking in the mirror, Greg starts to comb his hair and does the “Fonzie” thing. Ahh, why mess with perfection? He takes another look at the overall bod and is very pleased with what he sees.
He goes out the door with the usual smirk on his face and jumps behind the wheel of his convertible. He feels very pleased with himself as he drives along. After all, he got his way with that super charger for the new car. Those faint-hearted mechanics wanted to do a lot more testing on it before we used it.
He pulled into Polly’s driveway, sat there and honked the horn. Nothing happened, so he honked again. Mr. Raines pulled back the drapes and with folded arms glared at Greg.
“Oh, for the love of…” Greg muttered. Okay, okay I’ll pick her up at the door. He slammed the car door and stomped up to the house. The door didn’t open. He had to ring the bell. After a respectable amount of time had passed, Mr. Raines answered the door. “Yes, may I help you?” Mr. Raines inquired. Greg looked around the edge of the door and could see Polly standing in the living room. The stupid ritual had to play all the way out.
Greg answered with ill grace, “I’m here to pick up Polly.”
“Where are you all going tonight?” Mr. Raines asked in curiosity.
“We’ll probably eat, and then take in a movie.”
Mr. Raines persisted in his inquisition, “What time will you have my daughter home?” (Greg knew her curfew was 12 midnight.) “I guess 11:30 or 11:45pm”, Greg sighed.
Mr. Raines grudgingly opens the door wider and motions Greg to enter his home. Walking back into the living room, Mr. Raines approaches his daughter, “Polly, your friend, Greg, is here.” Polly smiled brightly at her dad, and walked forward to take Greg’s hand. She leads him back toward the door, out of the house and while getting into the car looks at Greg. “Why do you always have to do that?”
Innocent as the day he was born, Greg raises his eyebrows at Polly. “Do what?”
“Try my dad’s patience so. You know he’s old-fashioned and set in his ways. You used to bend over backward to please him.” Polly retorted.
“I just like messing with him.” Greg smiled back at her.
“That’s awful. I hate it when you do that.” Polly snapped impatiently.
With a shrug, Greg puts the car in gear and backs from the driveway heading up the road. “Big deal. He plays his games and I play mine.”
Staring at him first with her mouth pinched, Polly said “But he’s my father. You don’t show him any respect at all.”
Looking puzzled, Greg glances over at her. “So what?”
Now looking quite stunned, Polly gapes at Greg. “So what !?! He’s my father, and you should show him respect, if nothing more than to please me.”
“He started all this junk and I’m awfully tired of it.”
Stuttering, sputtering and trying to find the words. Polly speaks slowly, coldly and with deliberation while staring at Greg. “Take Me Home.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I said Take Me Home.”
“Now? We haven’t even eaten yet!”
“Take me home now.”
Greg mentally sighed. He knew she meant it this time. Once again, he had added yet another girl to the growing list of people who were getting fed up with him and his cavalier ways. “Fine, have it your way. If that’s the way you want it.” He jammed the brakes, yanked the wheel and did a 180 right in the intersection. There was total silence going back to her house and pulling into the driveway.
When they got there, Polly sat quietly for a moment on her side of the car. She glanced over to Greg and then calmly slapped him in the face as hard as she could. Reeling from shock, with his hand over his stinging cheek, Greg snapped “What in the world was that for?”
Nearly in tears, Polly informed him. “That was for all the garbage I’ve put up with. You are by far the worst human being I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. I’ve had it up to here with you and I never want to see you again.” Polly scrambled out and stood huffing at the side of the car.
Leaning over the seat and shifting quickly to anger and then defense, Greg said “That’s fine, just fine with me. I don’t know why I put up with all this bull from you and your old man anyway!!” Greg slammed the car into reverse and burned rubber. As he bounced and jolted back into the street, Greg yanked the car into gear and burned the rest of the rubber off the tires. By the time he got home, the tires were all but gone……worn all the way to the cords.
Going through his usual routine after a break up with a girlfriend, Greg put all his anger and energies into his racing. He won the Alabama 400. While prepping a new car for the Talladega 500, Greg stripped off all the safety equipment from the car, except the cage itself. With the new super charger installed, the car throbbed with horsepower.
The day of the race was pretty much the same as any other. Greg roared into the lead position on the first lap. For 75 laps he led the pack, ahead of the next car in line by 75 seconds. Driving coldly and with precision, the 80th lap had Greg coming out of the 2nd turn a little wide and he clipped the wall, began to spin and the car broke up all around him. By the time the car came to rest, there was nothing left except the cage and Greg (again). He walked out of the crowd of emergency and safety people, and straight onto center stage. The cameras rolled, comments and exclamations rang out, Greg postured and posed. All was right with the world again.
Out of the blue, Greg stiffened and began to weave. The emergency crew was all over him. They had him snatched up, into the back of an ambulance, hooked up to monitors and headed to the hospital. He was bleeding profusely from the top of his head. Once at the hospital, every life support system known to man was hooked up to Greg. Hours later, he lay motionless in the hospital bed with machines arranged all around the large room. There were all shapes and sizes of machines….one breathed for him, one kept his heart beating, and on down the line.
Greg’s mother stood at the foot of the bed sobbing. Tears rolled continuously down her cheeks as she looked on her youngest laying there so still with all the machines whirring around him, maintaining his precious life. She listened numbly as the doctor spoke at her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Beard. We’ve done everything we could possibly do for him. The machines are keeping his body alive. There was just nothing else we could do. That piece of meteor that struck him literally destroyed his brain. He has no brain function…..he has no brain left to function.”
A gentle, calm feeling washed over Mrs. Beard. Her eyes were not cloudy, but crystal clear and sparkling as if she had just had a revelation. At that moment, she realized why her son had so many gifts given to him. With little inflection in her voice, she asked, “Where do I sign?”
She signed a paper in the presence of witnesses authorizing the doctors to harvest any and all organs, tissues and parts of her precious son suitable for transplant. Heart, lungs, kidneys, liver, spleen, corneas….all would give hope and better lives to all who received a part of her son’s body.
Polly sat in her living room staring at the sports page with Greg’s face smiling up at her. She was very sad for Mr. and Mrs. Beard and Greg’s brother and sister, and she was crying quietly as she finished reading the whole article and found out that Greg’s death was giving so much life to others. The tears streamed down her cheeks and fell on the newspaper. She would keep the tear-stained article as a reminder of how proud she was of Greg.
He may not have been “indestructible”, but he will live on for quite some time to come.
Frank Hayden
August 29, 2004
Tags: Frank Hayden