My Sister's Story

“Life’s Interruptions” by Marilyn Whyte / Dorothy Casper

CHAPTER FIVE

Stepping Into Eternity

Rachelle

“Her life here was a brief interruption in her Eternal Progression.”

A well-known philosopher recently asked if we could see ourselves as spiritual beings having a mortal experience, rather than mortal beings trying to have an occasional spiritual experience. As we come to see more clearly that we are literally living each and every day in the midst of eternity, life’s experiences become more meaningful.

It was a typical, crisp Sunday morning in mid September, and school had just been dismissed for potato harvest. Two weeks of anticipated freedom lay ahead, and pent-up energies made church seem long in the Pingree 2nd Ward.

That morning in the Course 13 Sunday School class the substitute teacher gave a lesson on Christ’s last week on the earth. She taught that the Saviour showed love and rendered service to those around Him, as He surely realized His time was short.

Then she asked the class, “What would it be like to know you only had one week left to live? What would you do?” The class laughed and joked, full of humor and early teen mischief. One handsome lad said he would definitely go on a date because he would never get a chance later. All but one giggled and joined in the fun as the teacher called on each student to respond. Gaiety and excitement of unfulfilled youth permeated the classroom until it became the turn of a pretty and very popular, dark-haired girl who had sat silently on the front row.

“That isn’t what I would do,” she quietly said. Everyone turned to listen, as this was the first comment she had made during the entire lesson. Immediately sensing the spirit carried by this serene and thoughtful girl, the teacher responded, “What would you do, Rachelle?” as she looked into the depth of young, but mature, understanding eyes.

“I would tell my mother that I love her, and I would spend as much time with my family as I could because they are my best friends.”

The room became silent. There was no comeback from the boys. The girls looked at the floor. All were quiet and humbled as they realized that Rachelle had really considered what it would be like to leave this life in one week. The uncomfortable reverence was broken with the ringing of the bell. A closing prayer was offered, and off they went, perhaps not giving another thought to the discussion until the shocking news came not quite a week later. Rachelle had thought about life, and what eternity would be like. Six days later she would see it clearly.

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The next few days proved long and grueling, as this “two-week vacation” usually is. The tedious job of picking clods on a potato combine begins early every morning and ends well after dark. But the chance to work is eagerly coveted by the area’s youth, enabling them to make substantial earnings to offset school expenses and save for missions and college. Perhaps greater than financial gain is the opportunity to test personal discipline and to strengthen character by seeing an “endless” and very difficult task completed. Harvest is especially rewarding when one gets to work with family and friends as Rachelle did the harvest of 1987. The farmer she worked for was a dear and close neighbor who was willing to give dependable young people a chance to work. On the crew were cousins and Rachelle’s older brother and sister, Clint, a junior, and JaNae, a freshman in high school. Good friends from junior high were also in the field, and the conversation usually centered around school activities and girl’s basketball tryouts after harvest.

Rachelle’s exuberance for life was evident in her love of sports. As a guard on the basketball team, she delighted many as she enthusiastically dribbled down the court with the ball that occasionally got out of control. Such mistakes never daunted Rachelle’s spirit. She was right back in the game, smiling it off, and giving it her all, as she did in every challenge. As an A student, she qualified for Honor Society and was elected secretary. She had served as seventh grade class vice-president, and when school resumed she planned to run for student body office. This fall was her first semester in eighth grade, and she was one of the star players on the girls’ volleyball team.

In addition to her skill on a ball court or in competition, Rachelle carried within an upward reach. She saw others at their best and wanted them to view themselves the same way. She seemed to have a yearning for sublimity in everyday life. But things did not always come easily to Rachelle. Persistence and hard work which seemed second nature usually concealed to the public eye the fears and anxieties she shared with most young people her age.

The evening before school was to start in the seventh grade, Rachelle felt the weight of the “shrouded future” and turned to her mother’s arms. Great were the anxieties of entering a new school. Would she fit in? Would she be accepted? She tearfully acknowledged her fears and then shared with her Mom a little notebook in which she had planned and written a list of every outfit she would wear for the next week. After finding the confidence and encouragement she needed, she emerged the next day at school, smiling, poised, and confident, appearing not to have a care in the world. How delighted and pleased her mother was when she came home beaming. No one outside her home knew of her personal trial and fear, and yet she carried with dignity the insecurity of being thirteen.

Rachelle had developed an inner strength early in life. Many times she would be in the house studying as playmates’ laughter filtered through the screen door. She had a great desire to play the piano, but it just didn’t seem to come naturally. So once again determination took over. On busy days she would come charging through the house, stop momentarily to play her piece as perfectly as she could and then be on her way, stopping later in the day for a repeat performance. Rachelle had a natural knack for knowing what needed to be done and then doing it, usually without being asked. If she especially disliked a job, like mowing the lawn, she would tear into it working relentlessly until she had her section done, and she was usually the first finished. But all these things had been set aside for now, the work at hand was potato harvest. Everything comes to a stop during potato harvest, even Young Women activities.

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Rachelle especially loved her Beehive teacher, Susan, who at camp a couple of months earlier had been her secret pal. What fun to have an advisor who was also a special friend? Little did Rachelle know that Susan wondered many times as they shared confidences and set goals in personal progress interviews, if she were looking into the eyes of a thirteen-year-old. Or was it a more mature reflection of an eighteen-year-old young woman that returned her gaze? Susan admired her beauty and grace, with never a hair out of place. She was a pretty, eye-catching beauty, but she never set herself apart from others. Instead, she had the ability to make others feel accepted. Her sweet disposition made everyone feel that she was their friend.

Susan learned that Rachelle would always reach the goals she set for herself even if they proved difficult, and then she would select a new challenge. As she stood every Sunday and repeated with her friends, “We are daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves us and we love him,” Susan would see the conviction in her face. In class, her intent look indicated she was trying to grasp and remember every word. Reading the Book of Mormon and praying were part of her daily schedule. Rachelle carried her convictions through the week as she had the courage to be herself and determine her own pace and direction. She dressed modestly and set her own style, including her “neon leons” for shoelaces.

The Sunday before harvest began, Rachelle sat on the toy box in her newly redecorated bedroom and admired the soft pink walls and gray trim which she had completely painted herself. How proud she was at how well it was coming together. She and her younger sister, Lorraine, now in the seventh grade, would share this special sanctuary together. Just last month they had gone through all of Rachelle’s boxed treasures stored in the front room closet, and she explained what each meant and shared many with Lorraine.

The Hall family had been extensively remodeling all summer, doing most of the work themselves, with Clint and the girls even helping shingle the roof – an enormous task they completed in one day. Sure-footed Rachelle and her sisters would lay out the shingles, and Clint and his Dad would nail them in place.

Until now, the three girls, just a year apart, had always shared a room. They had had their spats, and yet they remained close and united. When Lorraine was afraid on the top bunk at night, Rachelle would reach up and hold her hand until she felt safe enough to fall asleep. Even though JaNae was a year older, she always found her sister willing to talk and comfort her in her trials. Many times Rachelle wrapped understanding arms around trembling shoulders and shared her tears. “Just be the beset you can be. Don’t worry about others; it doesn’t matter, just be you,” was the counsel given by a young girl. At the end of such sessions, she would always return and put her head inside the door to say, “I love you, JaNae.” And Clint, the oldest and the only boy and naturally the strongest, would appreciate Rachelle’s staying up until early morning hours when he needed a friend and someone to trust. They were a handsome bunch. Stuart had been ward clerk for six years and felt great pride as he watched his companion and beautiful children from the stand in church.

This weekend Joan had helped Rachelle wallpaper her room. An uncooperative corner caused great distress as a tired mother couldn’t make the seam fit just right. When Joan became upset, Rachelle looked at her with deep understanding eyes and said, “It’s all right, Mom. You don’t have to do it today if it upsets you.” But being determined, as all mothers are, Joan finished the wall and Rachelle was so pleased and proud. She had paid for her own daybed, and with her harvest money she could buy the carpet she had chosen.

The Halls recognized their daughter was more mature than her natural years, and when Rachelle was a small child, Joan sensed “she was a grown spirit trapped in a little body as though she couldn’t wait to grow up and get on with things.” Her keen intellect and deep perception made her appear that “she could hardly wait for the next experience in life.” Just that summer, Joan had told her mother as they visited in Washington where Rachelle had tended little cousins for six weeks, “I don’t know if I will ever raise Rachelle because she is getting so perfect.” Rachelle had had a couple of serious injuries earlier on, but this feeling was different. “She was like a grown woman in a young girl’s body.” Sometimes I would look into her eyes when I had done something wrong or handled a situation inappropriately, and I felt her silent but loving pleading, “Mom, why do you do that?” This child peacemaker continually sought to make life better. She carried peace and sweetness next door to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, too. Quietly she would slip in and snuggle on the couch by Grandpa, who had been in failing health, or sit next to Grandma Dona as she sewed beautiful holiday dresses for the girls. Little did she know she was uniting her family for eternity.

Rachelle seemed to have a special insight and ability to judge things for herself. The only “no’s” Stuart and Joan had to give were those limiting the number of activities Rachelle took part in. She wanted to learn to do everything, and as with all families, there had to be limits. When she was told no, she accepted their judgment. “We hardly ever had to say no. But when we did, we never had to repeat it.”

One day rolled into another this harvest week. Stuart worked each evening after work on the house, feeling strangely compelled to get finished. Joan had been keyed up all month, feeling as though she would explode, but when Saturday dawned a blustery, cold, windy day, she felt noticeably calm. Out in the field, Rachelle and JaNae had been working on the combine together until JaNae jumped down and ran to the end of the field for goggles to protect her eyes. Clint was running a windrower a little ahead of the combine.

As the combine reached the end of the potato row, the driver got out to talk to the boss who had just arrived. Rachelle, in her naturally industrious way, climbed down off the combine, crowbar in hand, and knelt down in front of the wheel to clean the rock bucket. The rest of the kids had remained on top of the equipment, and when the driver started up the tractor, he didn’t see Rachelle nor could he hear the cries to stop. As he pulled forward, the wheel caught Rachelle’s legs and rolled up her body, crushing her with enormous weight.

Realizing that his sister was badly hurt, Clint jumped in the pickup and went for his parents. The wind was blowing terribly, but as Stuart and Joan reached the scene, even the weather was peaceful and calm. The Spirit already attended them as they drove. The same spiritual comfort would attend Joan for the next several months.

The EMT’s had already been called, and as Stuart and the boss prepared to bless Rachelle, he knew in his heart that she was gone. After the anointing, he could only say, “We love you, Rachelle. Heavenly Father loves you, and He will take good care of you.” Heartbroken sobs filled the air as friends and family huddled in sorrow at the tragic loss of such a beautiful daughter. Rachelle had stepped through the veil, and she had spent her last week in this mortal existence. Her eyes were now open clearly, and as they were, her father was allowed a momentary glimpse into eternity.

“There were two impressions I received,” Stuart testified. “It was just like a flash in my mind. In the first one, I saw Rachelle lying on the ground and a figure in white was lifting her from her body assisting her to her feet. The next one came when we were in the hospital. In my mind I saw Rachelle being introduced to several people. She had the same bashful smile on her face that she used to have in similar circumstances. I had the distinct impression that one of the men was Joan’s grandfather. There were four or five other people around that I didn’t recognize as this flashed in my mind. I can still remember that smile on her face, but the picture left me and never came back.”

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The Hall family and the entire community grieved at such a loss, especially sorrowful for those involved in the accident. In love and compassion, Stuart and Joan visited the homes of all who had witnessed the trauma and especially reached out in love to the man who had been driving the combine, a dear friend who truly loved Rachelle also. They both expressed that “We could never have any bad feelings, or add to his pain. It was an accident. We just couldn’t be bitter.” Joan admits to being an emotional person and says, “I have relived that scene a thousand times in my mind. Once I considered what it would have been like if I had reacted in shock and behaved out of control. The pain I felt as I imagined that scene was twice as bad. I’m so thankful the Lord’s spirit was with me right from the beginning – strengthening me. I’m so grateful that I didn’t do or say anything that would hurt anyone or make me feel guilty the rest of my life. My heart hurts so much worse to think of myself out of control.”

Rachelle surely looked upon her mother that day with love and approval as she witnessed her strength. Joan readily admits that she couldn’t have handled the situation if it hadn’t been for previous prompting the Spirit had blessed her with. “I knew that someone from our family was needed on the other side to do an important work. None of my mother’s family are members of the Church. I know as soon as I get going on genealogy, Rachelle and I will work hand in hand.” Joan was called to work at the extraction center in Pocatello shortly after the accident, and at the time of this writing is an assistant coordinator.

Stuart described the most difficult part as waking up in the morning with a cold feeling, realizing that Rachelle’s death was a reality and not a bad dream. He is a gifted artist and has insight that is highly developed. Perhaps it is the sensitivity and the training of the artist’s eye that allows him to create visually what he spiritually sees. His great ability can be felt throughout this work in his beautiful sketches.

The scene that flashed through his mind at the accident kept recurring over and over. He had had a very difficult time dealing with the agony and pain his daughter must have felt as the wheel climbed her legs and ran up her body. The most comforting thing he had to cling to is a scripture shared by an understanding bishop at the viewing: “And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them.” (D&C 42:46)

“Then one day on the bus to work, the picture came into my mind again. It finally dawned on me. It was like a light bulb lit up in my mind. When the figure in white was lifting Rachelle up, the wheel was still behind her. It was at her feet. I don’t think that she really had to feel pain. I think she was spared that. I’ve read many after-life stories, and in all the experiences related, they never talk about the pain. As I visited with the kids who had been on the combine that day, they all said that as the combine started up her feet, she just laid over like she was asleep. What a comfort to know that my impression was right and true.”

All the beautiful and fine things that Rachelle represented, she took with her into eternity. She sees clearly now, as tears and clouds of despair sometimes block our view. Her vision is clear. These are the things she would say to us, as expressed by her Uncle Roger at her services:

“Weep for me today, but tomorrow smile and think of all the fun we’ve shared – the night slumber parties, the talks, the laughs, the good things like track and volleyball. Friendship is a sacred thing; it never dies. Be strong and do what’s right. I want my family to know I love them, that they are my best friends.”

The day after Thanksgiving, 1987, the Hall family, along with Joan’s family, met at the Idaho Falls Temple. Joan took Rachelle’s name through the temple for her ordinances and endowment, and Grandpa Herb and Grandma Dona were sealed to their five children after forty-two years of marriage. Rachelle’s life and passing had united her family. As they clasped hands and knelt across the altar that day, not only was it witnessed by angels, but also by Rachelle’s deep understanding eyes and radiant smile.

“My Sister, My Friend”

She always seemed to be there
When days were dark and blue,
She’d always be there waiting
To talk to after school.

She always seemed so perfect,
She always seemed so good,
We didn’t want to let her go
But we did what we knew we should.

She always had a smile
And something good to say,
For if we live the word of God
We’ll see her again someday.

She always seemed so happy
She always seemed to care,
For what she knew inside herself
That is was love she had to share.

This girl is my sister,
This girl is my friend.
He took her just to borrow,
We gave her just to lend.

JaNae Hall -1987

Our Family Photos 2007!

Decorating the Christmas Tree!

Thanksgiving Bowling Tradition!

Our first snow day!!