Stepping Back Into The Future

Plenne L. Wingo

Have you heard of Plenne L. Wingo? He was an American man who walked backwards from Santa Monica, California, to Istanbul, Turkey, about 8,000 miles (13,000 km), from April 15, 1931, to October 24, 1932, at the age of 36. He remains the Guinness World Record holder for "greatest extent of reverse pedestrianism".  (Click here to read further about Plenne Wingo).

We just finished the first month of 2026.  We often wonder what a new year has in store for us.  Seeing ahead may not be as important as looking behind.  

At most graduations, a speaker will say something like, “And as we face the future ahead of us…” What would you say if I told you we step backwards into the future!  

I heard a preacher named Dennis Kinlaw share an illustration that should help.  He said that to ancient Hebrews, a man faces east.  That represents the past.  North is left, South is right.  West is back or behind. A person faces his past and steps back into his future. This messes up all the graduation speeches you might have heard.  We see our past as we gingerly step back into our future.  Does that sound scary?  It would if we didn’t trust our journey to God, who sees the future.

Here are some things to consider:

Look at the past:

The past can be painful.  If you live long enough, life will provide the pain.  I was once asked to do a critical incident stress debriefing for some missionaries in Malawi. A Critical Incident Stress Debriefing is a process whereby all of those involved share what they experienced, their thoughts, and feelings around the incident. This helps them step back into the situation and reframe it so they can begin to grow out of the experience. One of those missionaries was killed when his car swerved off the road.  His wife, kids, and fellow workers were traumatized.

Many of us would like to change the story of our past.  We somehow believe we would have been better off not having to experience the pain.  In reality, those incidents prepare us for the future and can enrich our lives.

My grandkids help me to step backwards. Sometimes when my grandkids hug me, they turn backwards.  So after we hug, they say, “Grandpa, you have to walk backwards now!”

Anticipating the future:

If little is known of the future behind us, we might do well to step backward and hope for the best with God’s help.  

There is a Wii game where the character is traveling in the dark and can only see a couple of feet ahead to stay on the path. Sometimes God gives us just enough light to see one step behind us into the future. 

That reminds me of the movie, WHAT ABOUT BOB, starring Richard Dryfus.  Bob is told by his shrink to take baby steps to overcome the fear of moving.  We must trust Him to be there for the next baby step.

Think about the life stories of those who intersected with yours in 2025.  What have you learned from those encounters?

CAR CONNECTIONS

 I have driven different types of cars over the years.  Most of my cars were either given to me, or I bought used.  Used cars come with a certain activity we call “repair.”  

My Dad was old enough to have learned to drive in a Model T Ford, most likely the one with a crank start.  He didn’t keep up with the times.  When my wife and I were first married, we drove a car her father gave us as a wedding present.  When my dad got into it, he exclaimed, “With all of these knobs and contraptions, how can you make this thing go!”  Trust me, it was a standard model from the 1960s or ‘70s.  By the old standards, the cars of today look like the control panels in a rocket ship!

My Dad was a Rambler car man.  His first Rambler was a 1960 American.  I never understood his fascination with them.  Our air conditioning was a 4-40 (4 windows down while going 40 miles per hour.) When it was time for Dad to buy me a car, you guessed it…a Rambler.  We pulled up the front of the seller’s place, he said, “Now that’s the car for you!”  I knew I was going to get stuck with it, but I had no choice…he was buying.  It was a stick shift on the column station wagon.  Later, I bought my car, a Chevy Belair.  I was moving up in the world.

My older brother, Dave, was the mechanic in the family.  I never bothered to learn to work on cars, I had him around until I headed off for college and seminary.  It was time to learn something about car repair.  This was pre-YouTube, so I had to rely on a printed repair manual.  I think my first adventure was replacing brake pads and shoes.  With the mission accomplished, I had fellow students saying, “Hey, I hear you work on cars.”  “Sort of” I replied.  I was willing to take a stab at other repairs, under the condition they bought a repair manual and any tool I needed to get the job done.  That is how my tool inventory began.  Fifty years later, I’m still helping others with repairs.  I recently worked on a car belonging to my friend from Tanzania, Africa.  

Cars seem to take on the characteristics of their owners like couples who grow old and start to look like each other.  I guess you can tell a lot about a person by seeing how they decorate and treat their automobiles.  We also associate certain vehicles with people we know.  Before they get close, I know who is coming.  Sometimes, I only know new neighbors by their vehicles.  Next door is “White Van.”

I see my friend, Dean, every few years.  Out of the blue, he wants to go to breakfast.  Last week he picked me up.  I wasn’t sure what vehicle he was driving.  He sent me a text, “I’ll be there in a few.  Wear a jacket.”  While I was standing outside waiting, I saw this nice, new black pickup as it turned the corner.  He looked like he was going to pull over.  I took one step forward and he continued.  Coming from the other direction was Dean, driving a blue shoe box on wheels, with no windows.  Hence, a need for a jacket.

Cars can be a gift of encouragement.  While living in Santa Monica, California, I served on a church staff.  I held a Bible study for employees of City Hall.  I started this with my friend, Jim.  Jim knew I didn’t make much money.  Perhaps he learned about the time I pulled up by City Hall.  While parking the car, it started to roll back.  Some officers came to my rescue.  I said, “Hold it,” while I reached under the seat to grab a brick and place it under a wheel.  I said, “Sorry.  My emergency brake doesn’t work, so I use this emergency brick.”  One of the officers replied, “Chaplain, you need a new car.”  I couldn’t agree more, and that is where my friend Jim comes in.  He asked me, “Are you taking a vacation this summer?”  I said, “Well, we are just going to stick close to home.  Maybe a day trip.”  The next week at Bible study, he handed me a check and said, “I had a used car I was going to sell and felt the Lord wanted you to have this to help you out.”  We had that vacation.

A lot of memories are created in cars.  As a family, we usually took a driving vacation each summer.  In doing so, we had some wonderful experiences of seeing many of the U.S. States.  Jim, my kid brother, and I had some great adventures.  

The most important things in life are experiences.  We didn’t have to have a lot of money for us neighborhood kids to ride with my dad on a fishing or camping adventure.

What memories do you associate with or without cars?  Consider sending them in so others can enjoy the good times with you.  Send an email to journeyintostory@google.com. 

 

Fake Thanksgiving News Uncovered By Native Americans (Updated)

William White

This will be the first Thanksgiving I’ll celebrate knowing that my 10th great-grandfather, William White, was a Mayflower passenger and signed the Mayflower Compact.  He died that first winter, so my 10Th great-grandmother was there for the first celebration.

There is a lot of fake news we learned in school that wasn’t accurate about that so-called “First Thanksgiving.”  Here is what I learned from the Wampanoag, the Indians who helped the Pilgrims.

“…most people do not know about the first Thanksgiving because the Wampanoag and Pilgrims did not sit down for a big turkey dinner and it was not an event that the Wampanoag knew about or were invited to in advance.” (Tim Turner, Cherokee, manager of Plimoth Plantation’s Wampanoag Homesite.)

The Pilgrims sent out four hunters in the morning who brought back an abundance of fowl (could have been turkey, but who knows).  Besides feasting, the men had target practice with their flintlocks.  The natives were alerted and set out to ensure the Pilgrims were not under attack.  That was when the Wampanoag invited or co-hosted themselves to the festivities.  Massasoit, the Chief, sent out a team who brought back five deer to add to the meal.  Fortunately, he did, because the number of Indians was two to three times the size of the settlers.

The food included venison, seafood, waterfowl (not to mention of turkey), maize bread, pumpkin (not pumpkin pie), and other squash.

The natives later did not look at Thanksgiving as a celebration, but as a day of mourning because of their treatment at the hands of the white man.

“At noon on every Thanksgiving Day, hundreds of Native people from around the country gather at Cole's Hill, which overlooks Plymouth Rock, for the National Day of Mourning. It is an annual tradition started in 1970 when Wampanoag Wamsutta (Frank) James was invited by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts to give a speech at an event celebrating the 350th anniversary of the Pilgrims’ arrival and then disinvited after the event organizers discovered his speech was one of outrage over the “atrocities” and “broken promises” his people endured.”

Frank James was supposed to address the crowd at the 350th anniversary of the Pilgrims' arrival, but the organizers learned what he would share from the Indian perspective. They canceled him.  The message he was supposed to give contained this statement:

“This action by Massasoit was perhaps our biggest mistake. We, the Wampanoag, welcomed you, the white man, with open arms, little knowing that it was the beginning of the end.”

 

I certainly understand their feelings, but I have learned that it’s best to not look back at all of the injustice done to us.  Letting go of the injustice in my life has freed me to enjoy life better.  Take, for example, my friend Donna.  She is Japanese American and was born in a relocation camp that the government were so kind to set up after telling them they had to leave their homes and businesses within six days.  These were American citizens who were unjustly treated.  Many of the Nisai Japanese were bitter over their plight.  Donna’s parents  tried to put a positive spin on things and make the best of the situation.  After their release, the family had to start over again.  They worked hard and were steller American citizens.  Donna and all of her siblings went to college, earned degrees, and had a career. 

As I was watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade, I saw a float made by the Wapanoag Indian tribe whose ancestors had to put up with the mistreatment of the white man at Plymoth.  The chiefs were smiling and waving at the crowd.  Apparently not all Wapenoag descendants view the Plymouth setters in the same way.  Some forgave and moved on.  This is not to say we should ignore injustice, but as time passes, we do ourselves a favor by forgiving and living a productive life.

Regardless of what historical view we have of Thanksgiving, the idea is for us to be grateful for what we have.  I know I am.

IT'S ABOUT THE JOURNEY NOT THE FIND

 

As kids, we would enjoy creating new adventures. We had the usual forts and treehouses. We would play “Native American” and make our own wardrobe. We did some crazy things because we were young and stupid. One time the alley behind our house had small tunnels under the pavement. Sooo, we played “miner” by crawling under on our backs to the next pothole. Never mind that it could have caved in on us. I did get a little scared halfway through and told God if he would get me through this, I would NEVER do that again. You are only enjoying this wonderful story because I obviously made it.

We had a little wooded area near us we affectionately called, “Dead Man’s Creek.” It had no creek or dead men but it made for good copy. We drew up a treasure map, took an old wooden box, filled it with junk, and buried it there. Then we marked and “X” on the map for future discoverers. It didn’t take long for someone to dig it up and take the booty without a map. It took us some time to get over our financial loss.

I have started a new tradition with my granddaughter. We also look for hidden treasure. We go geocaching. In case you are not aware, geocaching is finding special hidden containers by using a GPS app that helps you find them. We haven’t landed any great treasure, but we have enjoyed going around to make a “find.” Besides, it’s more about the journey than the find.

If you want to try out geocaching, here is a link: https://www.geocaching.com/play

What about you? What crazy, fun, stupid things did you do as kids. Please reply and share with us so we all can smile :).

(c) 2020 Wally Johnston

"Remember, there are two kinds of people in this world, those who like Dr. Pepper and  those who don't."