THE MIRACLE OF FORGIVENESS & KIMBALL’S CADILLAC – Pt. 2

Later on Kimball’s spirit would continue the confession. When the following April rolled around, I felt Spencer’s presence return. He drew my mind to some pretty nasty dirt which had been swept under the rug. But the rug was lifted, revealing things from President Kimball’s past life that his higher self was not too pleased with. Apparently, in April of 1977, when Mike and I were both just free flying little orbs of light, not yet fully focused into twinkles in our dads’ eyes, there was some foul business afoot in Salt Lake City, Utah. Spencer W. Kimball found himself involved in a tangled triangle of Church, State, and Free Agents. A white man by the name of Douglas A. Wallace, who had acted on orders from the Holy Spirit to ordain Larry Lester, a non-LDS, black man to the Priesthood, now sought an audience with Kimball. He had been rather relentless in his attempts over the course of two General Conferences of the Church. After a year of legal actions and excommunication by the courts of the Church, this High Priest was just as determined as ever in his mission. The Church President gave counsel to his fears, likely listening to his brethren of little faith, who felt it best to enlist the protective services of the Salt Lake Police Department. The so-called General Authorities contacted “the authorities”, their joint feauxthority folding under paranoia in the presence of true authority. Brother Wallace made it publically known that he came in peace but was, nonetheless, placed under surveillance at the request of the First Presidency of the LDS Church.

In the early morning hours on Sunday, April 3^rd, during the second day of the springtime Annual General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in ’77, while on the stakeout, Detective David W. Olson, was accidentally but critically wounded when his partner’s weapon discharged and left Olson paralyzed from a single shot to the neck. Both the Church and the Police Department initially denied that the undercover officer had been keeping surveillance on the Mormon dissident. After a few days the P.D. eventually admitted the truth but the Church remained silent. Detective Olson was very distraught over the matter and would end up committing suicide in 1980. With bitter sarcasm and desperate depression in his voice he stated:

“I would also like to thank Spencer W. Kimball for his incorrect press release concerning the police involvement combined with the LDS church’s efforts to restrict Douglas A. Wallace from the temple grounds, specifically the Tabernacle, on April 3, 1977. “His denial of these actions is wrong. Any man who can take such actions and still call himself a prophet deserves more than I to be confined to this wheelchair.”

But again, I digress. Or should I say, converge? Everything is connected and ‘this’ always ties in with ‘that’. Anyone who tells you differently is trying to sell you some ‘bad fruit’. All of this business with Priests and Police on the morning of April 3, 1977 came as an absolute shock to me when randomly running across the news articles precisely 35 years and 25 days after the fact. But even more shocking were the personal pre-existential memories that came into my heart and mind. There were six cops stationed around the vicinity of that house at 2177 Carriage Lane near 4600 South. We had targeted the big one. Mike and myself, as yet to be born angels, made sure that these occurrences, though swept behind a veil of forgetfulness in the minds of many, would not be completely covered up. In the momentous year of 2012, many are awakening. In my personal reconnecting with former versions of my self, I was shown the role I played in the events of that Salt Lake spring morning, 35 years and 25 days ago, but why?  Mike and I can not be questioned regarding our involvement by any court of the land. Can we? Habeas Corpus is a Latin phrase, which can be literally translated as “(we command) that you have the body”. At the time we did not have bodies. With the N.D.A.A having been enacted one has to be careful how one speaks about the government these days. But Obama promised not to use those abusive powers, only sign them into law. Right? So I guess I can rest easy, until Romney pulls them out to prosecute enemies of the Church & State. Was S.W.K. trying to warn us of Church disciplinary action? Was he trying to point to even shadier levels of conspiracy? At first I felt uneasy and thought I ought to be on guard. But now I know that God protects those whom He calls. Brother Wallace is apparently still kickin’ after all this time. Fear was what had embroiled Spencer in so much trouble. And it was fear that his ghost was advising against. As I resolved in my mind to not sweep this revelation aside as mere crazy thoughts, but to accept the past prophetic whisperings of this kind soul to soul communication, I felt my heart begin to beat like the brave Indian war drum. My heart slowly received witness as the sound built in my chest. I of course realized that Spencer’s soul did not need to get these things off of his chest with me. He had already done so with his maker. So, what was he trying to tell me and why now?

Well, if I said that Mike and I crossed paths in Orem, I was mistaken. To be specific, Orem is where our paths in this life merged. But they had intersected briefly before. After a year of association, Mike and I discovered that we had both been in attendance at the same Hip Hop concert, years before meeting, back in the winter of 2000 at the Bricks Club in Salt Lake City. This was realized as he recounted the anecdotal story of how Chris, his partner in rhyme in those days, had somehow managed to be picked from among those in the front area, to perform on the stage in an impromptu opening act. Chris looked around excitedly and talked into the mic to let Mike know of the situation so he could hop up on stage with him and take advantage of the opportunity to showcase their skills in front of a sizable crowd. But Mike was all the way in the back and up top on the balcony level with some girls and drinks in hand. This was the same area where I was watching the show from with some of my friends. As he described the way he tried in vain to reach his homey on the stage to share in the spotlight that had unexpectedly fallen on him, I suddenly remembered seeing this all play out and realizing that poor fellow up on the balcony with us saying, “Excuse me, let me through.” was the one who the dude on stage was shoutin’ out to. “That was you?!” I exclaimed. “I was like three feet away and off to your right.”

Now my mind was being allowed to discover an even earlier meeting between my brother and I – 35 years and 25 days earlier to be exact. If you take the coordinates for the club in Salt Lake where we came in close contact for the first time in this life and draw a straight line on a map, from there to a point where we came together before this life, nearby the home on Carriage Lane that was being unwarrantably watched. And if you establish the line between these two points as the base of a triangulation, using an angle of 35 degrees for the first and 25 for the second, you will find that the lateral sides converge on a neighborhood not far from the University of Utah campus. 2028 Laird Drive, Salt Lake City, Utah is the spot where stands the house that was home to Spencer W. Kimball from 1947 to 1979, spanning almost the entire time of his presidency, and where he was living at the time of those unfortunate events that brought us all together under such strange circumstances.

I see it as a three sided symbol of the connection between past, present, and future. If it is the past that has made the present what it is and the present will make the future, then the past will always be felt. This is a good thing for us when we speak of the good that we build over time. But there is also much of sorrow and pain in our past. We must let Jesus teach us how to be centered on the gift of the present. He is teaching us how it is only from the present that we may navigate and change for the better, not only our futures, but our past as well. Through the miracle of forgiveness, repentance becomes a personal time travel vehicle. So may our sight be endlessly set upon our dear savior, who on the cross, listened while many in the throng of onlookers and even one of the thieves who was hanged there at His right were hurling abuse at Him. They mocked Him in His present state and talked of His past in a snide way when they said, “He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One.” To His left there hung another thief of time who spoke hopefully but unknowingly of the future, saying: “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom! But Christ speaks always firmly in the present tense when He says: “Truly I say to you, TODAY you shall be with Me in Paradise.”