Won’t somebody help me!
Janice Gravely was alone in the sky.
Her husband had slumped over in the pilot’s seat.
She was in a plane she did not know how to fly.
Somehow, she kept it in the air for nearly two hours.
Calling for help over the radio.
“Help! Help! My pilot is unconscious! Won’t somebody help me!”
Eventually, the plane ran out of gas.
It crashed in the woods.
She was badly hurt.
But she still crawled through the cold looking for help.
She survived.
Her husband did not.
Her story made national news.
The Associated Press.
UPI.
The New York Times.
Reader’s Digest and Guideposts too.
Years later, she wrote her book Won’t Somebody Help Me!
People wanted to hear her story.
So she started speaking all over the United States.
Then around the world.
China.
Africa.
Russia.
Europe.
The Middle East.
But after years of traveling and speaking...
her body started wearing down.
She felt tired all the time.
Pain.
Muscle cramps at night.
Stiff joints.
Bladder problems.
Hair loss.
Weak bones.
At 75, she felt old.
Then one day, while speaking at a meeting in New Orleans...
a woman handed her a green drink.
That night, for the first time in years...
she went to bed and wasn’t even tired.
That was around the time I got to know her.
My mother knew Mrs. Gravely first.
They both went to a monthly Christian women’s meeting in Rocky Mount.
Later, Mom stopped by her house from time to time.
One day I went with her.
That’s how I got to know Mrs. Gravely too.
She had already lived a full life long before I ever met her.
She graduated first in her class at UCLA.
Served as an officer in the Navy during World War II.
Her paintings were shown at the North Carolina Museum of Art.
She served on the Rocky Mount school board.
But to me, she was always Mrs. Gravely.
She was my friend.
Mrs. Gravely and me
Warm.
Thoughtful.
Easy to talk to.
Sometimes I would sit with her in the den.
We talked about the Bible.
Christianity.
The Holy Spirit.
I was hungry to learn.
She was willing to teach me.
There were watercolor paintings around her home.
She had painted them herself.
Golf or tennis often played quietly in the background.
She made people feel welcome.
One summer, she invited me to spend a long weekend at the Gravely family mountain home.
It was in Roaring Gap, North Carolina.
Behind the house was a golf course.
One night I walked alone out into the middle of the fairway.
No city lights anywhere.
The stars were so bright they felt close enough to touch.
I remember standing there overwhelmed by the glory of God.
I’ve never forgotten that moment.
We also played a round of golf together at Roaring Gap Club.
She did not hit the ball especially long.
But she almost always hit the fairway.
One afternoon we had lunch at The Senator’s House.
Several friends of Mrs. Gravely were there too.
She was the kind of woman who always used the proper fork for her salad.
Toward the end of lunch, I got restless and was ready to go.
I jokingly started stacking my plate.
I grinned and looked over at Mrs. Gravely.
She silently gave me “the look.”
I got the message.
It still makes me laugh.
Mrs. Gravely lived to be 99 years old.
Still interested in life.
Still interested in people.
Still herself.
I’m thankful I knew her.
This is one person's experience. Results can vary from person to person. These nutritional supplements are not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent disease.