Category Archives: All Ages

“Where did that hole come from?” By Chad Robert Parker

June 1, 2015Green ThumbChad Robert Parker

I have many talents, but I would not say I am a green thumb. Yet, I thought I would at least get to the planting part done before having any real troubles. I wanted to plant some tomatoes, but I didn’t have garden space. I’m certainly not a handyman, either, but I was intrigued by my dad’s square foot gardening project. Though I did not have much room on my balcony I figured I could start small with growing these vegetables in a gallon bucket.

My dad explained that the project would be really simple. I would just need to find some rocks, put in a ground dirt layer, and then some nicer soil to fill in the top. Oh, and I would want to drill some holes in the bottom to for some water and aeration flow.

You would think I would turn the bucket bottom up before drilling, but you would be wrong. Or maybe I would place something underneath like several layers of cardboard. I actually got a few holes put in without penetrating the carpet below. However, you guessed it, on my last drill I scuffed the carpet. Not smart, I know. I hated to admit how that blemish got there when my realtor mother helped me list the home. I’m not sure if I ever told her. At least the tomatoes turned out good.

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“Tunnel Hot Tub” By Chad Robert Parker

May 25, 2015Nearly Drowneddare, drowning story, hot tub, phobiasChad Robert Parker

My older brother sat across from me in a family friend’s hot tub. He often dared me to do things, like let him pour 2 liters of water down my throat to see how much I could consume straight without choking, or holding my head under water (with my consent) to amaze his friends how long I could hold my breath (I would flail my arms like I was struggling, but we had a signal to bring me up when I was ready). Point is, by now I had learned my lesson from other bumps and bruises to be a little skeptical of any of his suggestions.

He pointed out an opening underneath our seats. There was a passageway around the inside of the seating. There was no way I was going to try swimming through that tunnel. He assured me that he had done it several times, but I insisted he show me.

No adults were watching. My brother had no qualms about going first. He pulled himself around the inside boards and emerged out the top of the water with a big gasp. It scared me to think of what I would do if he did get stuck. How would I pull him out. Then it was my turn. I didn’t want to look like a sissy. I swam in and got wedged at the first turn. I have a degree of claustrophobia and this about set me off into a panic. I managed to keep my composure, opened my eyes and saw where a handhold was to pull myself through. I emerged safely. I gasped for air and tears came almost simultaneously. I really thought for a moment that I was going to drown.

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“My Longest Speech” By Chad Robert Parker

April 20, 2015Public SpeakingChad Robert Parker

As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I have had ample opportunities for public speaking. Members give talks every week in the main hour of church. It is a little nerve-racking and inevitably many of the speakers crack jokes about their unease and inadequacy before a public setting.

It is also a lay ministry, meaning that average members of the church are called upon to serve as teachers and leaders. As the Sunday School President me and my counselors were asked to speak one given Sunday. My counselors were becoming more and more dependable but they did not always come to church. I wasn’t sure if I could count on them to be there so I prepared a longer talk, just in case. I remember the topic was gratitude. When I saw my counselors at church I gratefully trimmed down my words. My counselors, however, did not take all of the time allotted them. I realized I would have 25 minutes to speak. As a youth I could barely muster the 5 minutes given me so this was going to be a stretch. I found that I had lots to be thankful for though, and the time went by quickly.

After publishing my first novel, “Sterling Bridge,” I enjoyed a few speaking engagements. The Sons of Utah Pioneers had me present for 30 minutes. The Historical Society asked me to speak for an hour and then conduct a 30 minute question and answer session. I am happy to say that I did not disappoint on both accounts. I think it was informative not just rambling on and on, but whatever the case I am learning how to communicate both short and long formats.

My book had to be concisely written as a film novel around 100 pages, my next book will be closer to 250 pages. The goal will always be to occupy space and time with meaningful sentiment not just filler words. At some point I will reach my limit for the longest length of a writing project, but as for speaking I think I already have met my limit.

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“Squawking in the Shower” By Chad Robert Parker

April 13, 2015Singing in the ShowerChad Robert Parker

There is a significant gap in years between my youngest brother and the rest of us. Much of the time he had the quietude of my parent’s home all to himself. I think he often used those hours to develop his guitar playing skills. My parents had told him that he was a good singer just like me, his brother. He surely aspired to at least as much, if not wanting to see if he were even better.

Who doesn’t sing in the shower? When I came back from college one summer I acted like I had not heard my brother come in to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Here was his chance to compare. It’s not easy to fake it, but I sang as off-key and as awful as I could. I can only imagine what my brother was thinking or the facial expressions he was making as he tried to determine if my horrible tune was in earnest or not.

Later my mom asked me if I was just playing around with him because my brother had asked her that very thing. She was sure that if it was bad singing that it was me just being funny. They had a good laugh over that, because he really wasn’t sure if I was being serious or not and he didn’t want to ask me directly and risk hurting my feelings.

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“Zombie Walking” By Chad Robert Parker

April 6, 2015Sleepwalkingsleep problems, sleepwalking, sleepwalking story, zombieChad Robert Parker

One of my brothers used to sleepwalk all of the time. He was so dead to the world that he looked more like a zombie. In fact, when you asked him what he was doing or where he was going he would always stare right through you with the most crazed murderer type look you can think of.

There is a saying that you shouldn’t disturb a sleepwalker, unless they are endangering themselves. I can’t remember exactly why they say that is, but in the case of my brother we liked that advice. There were times he would walk right into my room and investigate my closet. Harmless enough, right?

Several times he tried getting outside. My parents would usually catch him fiddling with the lock. One time, however, I remember him walking barefoot right out into the snow in the dark of night. When they woke him up he was a little bit angry to have been woken up but more confused than anything. It was like he was in a trance on a mission to reach an unknown destination. It was the strangest thing, funny at times, but usually a cause for alarm. We all came to expect the unexpected when he was up and about at night, and like it or not, from then on we were all expected to wake him up and walk him back to bed no matter how grumpy he was about his REM cycle being interrupted.

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“Double Whammy” by Chad Robert Parker

March 30, 2015Strong Snoringcamping, sleep apnea, snoring, snoring story, strong snoringChad Robert Parker

My church has a fathers and sons campout every year. It is a good time to get out by the campfire and for men and boys to share guy time. Between the hard ground and kids playing through the night the dads don’t expect to get much sleep, but one campout stands out more than all of the others, for the fact that only two people seem to have gotten a good night’s sleep.

The next morning my dad kept asking all the other campers if they had heard those two bears on the far side of camp. Everyone knew what he was talking about. Two men whose kids knew they were loud snorers told their fathers they had to share a tent. They obliged. In fact, they didn’t seem to notice or mind at all. The cadence was actually rather rhythmic, perfectly in concert with one another. When my dad asked them if they heard the loud grunts of what sounded like a couple bears battling each other through the night, they were the only ones who didn’t know what he was talking about. They said they hadn’t heard a thing.

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Sterling Bridge

March 25, 2015Bookscedarfort

Welcome to a look into my first publication! Here you get a glimpse of the fruits of my labor. Check back as other book projects get set to hit the market!

An Historical Fiction Film Novel

Sterling Bridge
Chad Robert Parker

Tensions are high in small-town Tooele, Utah, during the Great Depression, but coach Sterling Harris knows football is the answer. Putting his job on the line, he makes a bold play to find victory for his team and unity for his town. Based on a true story, this inspiring book gives you a fresh perspective on the past and hope for the future.

This story was written in dedication of and in tribute to the memory of one of Tooele County’s best-known citizens, Sterling Richard Harris (1899-1992), who came to be known simply as “The Bridge Builder.”

(An excerpt taken from Elder Loren C. Dunn, of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) “I was raised in a community in the western valleys of Utah. The town, Tooele, was settled by pioneers; when precious ore deposits were discovered in the nearby mountains, people came in from southern and eastern Europe who had a different culture and different religious preferences. They came to work in the mines and at the smelter.

They settled just east of town and called their community “New Town.” From almost the beginning, there was division and suspicion and misunderstanding between the new residents, who brought with them their old-country customs, and the people of the more established community, who were mostly of pioneer stock. The two groups seldom mixed.

One year the high school hired a football coach fresh out of Utah State by the name of Sterling Harris. Coach Harris, as he came to be known, was outgoing and just a little irreverent. He went throughout the old town and the new town and made sure he got all the boys in school and then out for football. He had a nickname for everyone, and after a while it became a sort of status symbol to carry a Sterling Harris nickname.

It wasn’t long after that before he had the Gowns and the Whitehouses lined up next to the Savages and the Stepics and the Ormes and the Melinkoviches running from the same backfield. He was tough but impartial, and he had about him a presence that made people feel important and want to do their best.

The team came together, and Coach Harris even took them to more than one state championship. But what was more important, in bringing the team together, he brought the whole community together. Walls were broken down. People from diverse cultures learned they could build on mutual respect and appreciation. Sterling Harris had become a bridge.” (Ensign, April 1991, “Before I Build a Wall” by Loren C. Dunn)

Sterling Bridge excerpt 1: Peter Joseph Lacey, Jr. wakes up to the realities of having a Catholic father and Mormon mother in early Tooele, Utah (1926).

Available now!

Product Details
Title: Sterling Bridge
Author: Chad Robert Parker
Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Cedar Fort, Inc.
ISBN-13: 978-1462117352
Release Date: November 10, 2015
Price: $11.99

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“As Luck Would Have It” By Chad Robert Parker

March 16, 2015St. Patrick's DayChad Robert Parker

The bell rang and the weekend arrived. One of my few Catholic high school friends sanctimoniously clasped his hands as a gesture for me to pray. He laughed jeeringly, but all in good fun. I taunted him with a lame come back telling him his luck had run out because it wasn’t St. Patrick’s day.

We lived a few hours south of South Bend, Indiana and most my friends, Catholic or not, would be cheering for the Fighting Irish in the BYU vs. Notre Dame football game that Saturday of October 15, 1994. My friend in a more sportsmanlike gesture then wished me “good luck,” quickly followed by, “you’ll need it.” BYU would need it. Notre Dame had whooped us bad the previous two meetings in 1992 and 1993. I started thinking I didn’t want any part of this “Holy War.” Give me back my traditional rivalry game where we were 19-3 in the LaVell Edwards era going back to 1972.

Nonetheless, I had a sneaking suspicion my team would give The Green Machine more than they bargained for. Sure BYU was leaving me feeling blue in past meetings but they were looking good that particular year with a 5-1 record to start the season. Besides Notre Dame’s storied program surely had to have a down game, if not a down year, every once in a while.

As fate would have it BYU came to play with everything they had and finally did pull off the away victory by one touchdown, 21-14.

My friends couldn’t believe it. For them BYU was now on the map. I was happy I didn’t have to eat my words.

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“Blood Drops” By Chad Robert Parker

March 9, 2015Stitchesblood, race, race story, sprint, stitches, woundChad Robert Parker

I was the fastest kid on the block. I never did try out for track. It was sort of a pride thing. Some said I was faster than anyone my age they had ever seen in a foot race. The next test for the neighborhood, as the kids gathered around, was to see if I could outrun a bike.

They picked my brother for the challenge to take me on. He is just a year younger than me. It was a perfect way for him to prove himself so he wasn’t going to go easy on me. I suppose he was a little nervous, as well as excited for the opportunity. No one wants to be outdone in a sprint when you have the advantage of a bike. Our adrenaline was pumping.

One kid stood off to the side and counted down. Ready! Set! Go!

I took off like a shot. It took my brother a moment to get the pedals going, but once he was up to speed he zipped right by me. I couldn’t run any faster. We were already past the halfway point, but there was a chance I could still win. I built a couple twists into our race. We would have to go up the Rudiger’s driveway, turn around and come back to the start point. I knew he would have to slow down to make the turns and negotiate the hill. I didn’t plan to do the same.

The kids were cheering when I passed him at the bottom of the driveway. I looked back as I returned to the bottom of the driveway again to see he hadn’t finished the turn at the top. I had a chance. Then I slipped on pine needles and split my forehead open.

I cried all the way back to the house, holding my bloody forehead. I distinctly remember my older brother and his friend counting behind me…42, 43, 44. I felt faint. I didn’t know what they were counting until I got inside. Apparently I left a lot of blood drops in my wake.

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“At the Apple’s Core” By Chad Robert Parker

March 2, 2015Heat Exhaustion/Strokeapple core, be prepared, hike, hike story, hiking, hiking safety, scouting, scoutsChad Robert Parker

The Scout motto is to “be prepared.” I often hear stories of mothers packing their kids bags full of everything, much more than they would ever need. Maybe there is something good to that and maybe it is a little too much coddling. Kids need some space to grow confidence in their own abilities and prepare to leave the nest altogether eventually. But all too often I hear stories where the Scouts and the leaders were not prepared enough to greater detriment. It’s a balance to manage the learning experience. Still, as long as everyone is safe, sometimes it goes along with sayings such as “no harm no foul,” and “let’s do better next time.” That’s how an innocent 10-15 mile hike turned out for me.

No kid wants to carry a lot on a hike. Our hike got extra long one hot day when I was twelve years old. There was more than a dozen of us boys and a couple leaders. During a stretch of plains and hills without any cover of trees we had sweat off all of our energy. Our few canteens were long since empty. Kids were dragging their feet. No one even bothered asking how much farther it was anymore.

My Scoutmaster asked if anyone had any water or even food left. I hadn’t thought about food. I had an apple. I held it up high and freely gave anyone who wanted a bite. It’s funny how germs don’t matter as much at that time and besides I got the first bite. It was amazing how much one bite of an apple reinvigorated our bodies and spirits.

Our leader had a little song he taught us–a blast from his childhood past. One kid would sing, “Apple core.” Another would reply, “Baltimore.” Another would yell, “Who’s your friend?” And the one with the apple core would shout, “He is!” And then he would throw the core at a target darting away from him. We played that game with some pep in our step all the way back to camp.

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