Paul Wanders Off and Gets Lost

The summer of 1974 was one of the most scary, traumatic, memorable times in the life of my first wife, Carol, and my family history. That summer, Carol was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, had surgery which took her uterus and ovaries, had a treatment regimen of daily chemotherapy, lived in Tennessee, across the country from her mother and other family, and had a husband who went to school all day, and worked 40 hours a week from 11:00 pm to 7:00 am, plus had a full-time internship with the hospital. In reality, her husband (that’s me) where I worked so in reality I was at the hospital from 11:00 pm to 5:00 pm or sixteen hours a day. Oh, yes, we also had a three-year-old son, Paul, who needed a mother and father.; I was in my final quarter of my Master of Public Health program, miraculously graduated, and we all moved back to Salt Lake City.
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The story I’m about to share happened to Paul in the latter part of August while we were staying at my parents’ house in Salt Lake City until I could find a job. It’s good to remember that Carol was still somewhat bedridden and couldn’t do much outside the house and this is an integral part of the story.

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On this particular day I had a job interview in Price, Utah, which is about 120 miles southeast of Salt Lake City, which means that I would be gone for about five or six hours, and my mom and Carol would be alone with Paul. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but Paul was only three years old and tended to act like a three-year-old. In other words, as parents we had to keep a sharp eye on him and know what he’s doing. In a small person’s world, trouble can happen quickly and that’s exactly what happened.

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It was a late hot afternoon, and Paul was outside playing in the backyard. Mom and Carol were in the house enjoying the coolness of the air conditioner and the peace and quiet that was in the room. For a brief moment, they weren’t thinking about Paul. That’s a bad thing to admit, but in the blink of an eye he was gone. Carol was beside herself. Mom and Dad lived on a busy street, and we had already spent some time trying to teach him about the dangers of crossing the street alone. We reinforced the fact that he shouldn’t do that without one of his parents or grandparents helping him. We thought he understood but still we recognized that he was only three years old and might not fully appreciate the danger of crossing that street. Mom got her car and invited Carol to get in and drive around the neighborhood together. 

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The entire time they were driving, they were also praying for his protection and that they could find him. After 20-30 minutes of driving through the neighborhood they returned home to see if he came back. It was about this time that I got home from Price. When I walked into the house Carol was crying uncontrollably and she got my immediate attention. She told me what happened, and I became concerned. 

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I turned and walked out the back door determined to find my son. I probably covered the same area that my mom and Carol drove around. I don’t know if I was covering any area they hadn’t already searched, but I wasn’t gone very long, then I returned home about the same time my dad got there. 

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He listened to Mom and Carol and got a feel for the problem, then he left the room and went to his bedroom, shut the door, and knelt down to pray. It was a short prayer, but that was all he needed. He took the car keys, walked out the back door and was gone for 10 minutes. When he came back, he had Paul. He was guided to the exact place where Paul was.

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Paul crossed the busy street and walked about 7 or 8 blocks down Third East. He was just enjoying himself without a care in the world. When he saw Grandpa, he hopped in the car and said, “Hi Grandpa!”

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A great reunion occurred when Paul walked into the house with grandpa. Hugs and kisses were plentiful, joy was felt in the house, and gratitude was in the hearts of everyone.

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Paul wandered off without realizing that he was creating danger for himself, frustration and fear in his parents and grandparents, and he had just been excited about his great adventure. Carol and I learned a valuable lesson about teaching and guiding three-year-old children, starting when they are young and never-ending really. Our boys are all grown up now, and Carol is gone, but we never stop trying to pass on whatever life experience we have and always pray for their safety, even when we are getting older and they are praying for ours! Got to love the ties that bind. 




Happy Failing Forward,


Calvert Cazier PhD, MPH


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