Sometimes, when you look back across a lifetime, there are moments that seem ordinary when they happen but become extraordinary when viewed through the lens of time. In September of 1962, I was eight years old, my brother David Wayne was nine, and neither of us had any idea that our grandfather, Claude Hines, would save David Wayne’s life—and then, just thirteen days later, make a simple decision that may have saved both of ours. We certainly didn't understand it that way at the time.

Every now and then, life has a funny way of dropping something completely unexpected into your lap. You don't see it coming. You aren't looking for it. You certainly don't have it on your five-year plan. And then, years later, you find yourself saying, almost apologetically, “Oh, by the way, I once wrote speeches for Bill Clinton.”
 
That sounds like the beginning of a political memoir. It wasn't. It was the result of a struggling advertising agency, a martial arts tournament, a former television sports reporter, a Korean grandmaster, a governor, a little creative thinking—and one very nervous Taekwondo expert.

It was near the beginning of September 1962, and our family was about to spend nine months living in two different states. My dad, David F. Shaner, was an enlisted Navy Petty Officer who had received orders to report to the Naval Air Station Memphis in Millington, Tennessee, now known as Naval Support Activity Mid-South. He was being sent there for additional training before his next assignment and, hopefully, a promotion. The training was supposed to last only nine months, but my parents had a practical problem to solve before Dad could even report for duty.

Some chapters of family history last only a few months, yet linger in memory for a lifetime. Our nine months in Memphis were like that—a brief stop filled with a crowded little house, school-day adventures, a homemade Christmas, and the ordinary moments that, decades later, still bring our family’s story into focus.
 
My brother Dave, (my sisters), and I only lived in the Memphis area for about nine months, but we both have surprisingly vivid memories of that time. We had started the school year in Peoria, Illinois living with our grandparents. About three weeks into the school year after our grandparents died the family moved to the Memphis area. Our dad was tationed at the Millington Naval Training Station, and we rented a little house in Raleigh. We attended Raleigh Elementary School during that time.

The following was the eulogy speech I gave at my sister Lisa's funeral.
On a cold winter day in Millington, Tennessee, Lisa Marie Shaner was born to Dave and Polly Shaner. It was January 21st 1963. Lisa was the fifth and last child that Polly would deliver and she was considered “the baby!” It was a title she never gave up and would have fought with you to try to take that away.  She relished the title of “The baby!” And “babied,” she was!  She had two older brothers, Dave and me, and two older sisters, Brenda and Julie!  Lisa was now the baby, or “life of the party” at our house… and she relished that title! She had it made in the shade, she had it so easy… and we let her know that!