For instance, Ken Gallacher, a close friend and a man of great faith, drove with his family from their home in Las Vegas to Disneyland in Anaheim. Toward evening, after spending a fun day at the park, the family piled into their van and headed for home. They had barely gotten under way when their vehicle malfunctioned on the highway, and they were forced to pull over to the freeway's inside emergency lane. Ken got out of the van, walked around to the front, and opened the hood to see if he could tell what was wrong.
Just then, a drunk driver hit the Gallacher vehicle from behind at a speed of more than seventy-five miles per hour! The van was knocked nearly sixty feet up the highway by the force of the impact, spinning around two and a half times. Fortunately, the family members all were wearing seatbelts. They were badly shaken up from the jolt but were basically OK.
Ken, however, was hit by his own vehicle, the impact catapulting him more than two hundred feet in the air. He literally flew across the freeway into oncoming traffic. A driver approaching from the opposite direction saw the accident happening, slammed on his brakes, swerving his car sideways in front of oncoming traffic. Ken slammed onto the road in front of the stopped car. As awful as that was, at least it kept Ken from being run over by the oncoming traffic in the dark.
Ken was rushed to the hospital, the family fearing the worst. He had suffered severe injuries to his face and head, had three broken ribs, a broken elbow, torn ligaments in both knees, and internal damage to his heart, lungs, stomach, and liver. By the time I arrived at the hospital to be with our friends, Ken's condition was even worse. But a lot of people were praying for Ken, and three days later he miraculously walked out of the hospital under his own power. He had a long road of recovery ahead, but he was alive!
Over the next several months, thousands of dollars of medical bills rolled in, but Ken noticed that he still had not received a bill from one particular doctor. He called the doctor's office to set up a payment agreement, and said, “Doc, I've never received a bill from you for your services the night of my accident.”
The doctor replied, “Ken, I cannot bill you for what God did. We literally saw you healed in front of our eyes.”
I believe in a God who can do extraordinary things such as that!
I'm still as amazed as anybody when God uses my life to impact someone else in a special way. I've made plenty of mistakes in my life, and I sure don't claim to know all the answers. That's why I was surprised when Pastor T. D. Jakes invited me to speak at The Potter's House, a large church in the Dallas area. The church was packed that night. I was extremely nervous but determined to do my best. Members of the Power Team, a group of Christian bodybuilders, did a tremendous demonstration prior to my presentation. The crowd was really pumped by the time I got up to speak.
Although I attend a lot of celebrity events, I'm not really known as a spontaneous, extemporaneous public speaker. If I have to give a talk, I like to prepare well in advance, thinking through everything and knowing exactly what I plan to say. That's what I did for my presentation that night at The Potter's House too.
The Potter's House congregation is predominantly African-American, and as I stepped up to the podium, the crowd gave me such an enthusiastic welcome, I was momentarily unnerved. Talk about an alive church!
I regained my composure and launched easily into my prepared remarks. Meanwhile, the Power Team sat behind me, praying for me and urging me on. Suddenly something came over me that I now understand to be the power of the Holy Spirit, but at the time I was as befuddled as anyone else. My meticulously planned speech suddenly changed; it just went out the window. I started saying all sorts of things I had never before said to any group, talking about the power of God to change a life. I felt an incredible freedom, and I simply flowed with it.
Behind me I could hear the guys from the Power Team shouting encouragement, “Tell it, Chuck! Tell 'em!”
When I came off the platform, Gena hugged me and said, “Honey, I'm so proud of you!”
“For what? What did I do? I can't remember a thing I said!”
In 1999, Gena and I attended a marriage seminar in Dallas, conducted by Dr. Ed Cole and his wife, Nancy. We had met the Coles briefly at the 1998 Epiphany Awards, at which Walker, Texas Ranger had been honored as the Best Christian Program on secular television. In his late seventies, Ed was still a well-known men's conference speaker and a prolific author, including the best-selling book, Maximized Manhood. Nancy's health had been failing for some time, yet she remained a stalwart part of Ed's ministry, radiating love and joy to the young couples who attended the seminar. Gena and I were on the older end of the age spectrum of those in attendance, and we had a good marriage, but like a fine automobile that needs an occasional tune-up, even the best marriages can benefit from a fresh look under the hood. Perhaps because of our age, we thoroughly enjoyed Ed Cole's seminar and down-to-earth, practical wisdom as much as the young couples.
Before the seminar's conclusion, Nancy's energy level had dropped severely, and she had to go into a back room to lie down. As we were leaving, Dr. Cole said to us, “Nancy would like to say good-bye to you if you have time before you go.”
We went into the room and found Nancy lying on a couch, covered with a sweater. I bent down to greet her, and she leaned up to kiss me on the cheek when Gena and I entered. When she did, she noticed that Gena was cold. “Honey, you're so cold,” Nancy said. “Here, take my sweater and put it on.” We were awed at Nancy's selfless love; there she was, exhausted and chilled, at the very ebb tide of life, and she was still thinking of others. What a woman! That was the last time we ever saw Nancy.
Not long after the seminar, she passed away. We were sad for Ed and shared in his grief, but we all knew that Nancy was in a better place, in the eternal care of our God.
Although we had conversed with Ed and Nancy at the seminar, we really didn't know them. Nor did they know anything about our personal lives. That's probably why we were surprised one rainy day, a few months after Nancy's funeral, when we received a telephone call from Ed Cole at our office, asking if he could come over to meet with us.
I was in the middle of a script meeting, so I wasn't too excited about having an unexpected visit just then. But Gena felt it was important that we see Dr. Cole. “If he wants to drive all the way across town in the rain, there must be a good reason,” she said.
Gena and I were accustomed to receiving many requests for our time, charitable contributions, or lending our name to someone's good cause. Wanting to remain open to opportunities as they arise, it's sometimes difficult to know which needs are legitimate and which are simply rip-offs trying to use us for selfish reasons. We've learned that the only two fail-safe methods for discerning the validity of these requests are time and prayer. Taking time to pray through a request is not easy, though, since it drains one of our most precious commodities—time. Maybe that's why we've also developed a healthy skepticism.
Not surprisingly, Gena's first response when she heard that Ed Cole wanted to speak to us was, “Well, he either wants something from us, or he has something prophetic to say to us that we need to hear.” Gena had admired Ed Cole for years and was much more aware of his ministry and accomplishments than I was, but I had sensed a genuineness about Ed at the marriage seminar. Although I'm sometimes too naïve and trusting when it comes to discerning people's motives, I felt that I could trust Ed.
“Out of respect for Dr. Cole, let's meet with him,” Gena said, “and hear what he has to say.”
“Fine, tell him to come on over to the house,” I replied.
The rain was relentless that day when Ed Cole came to our home in Dallas. He was drenched and trembling as he came inside and sat down on the couch. I took a break from my script meeting, left the writers in the den, walked into the living room, and sat down next to Ed. After some cordial small talk, Ed got right down to business. It was obvious that he felt he was on a mission from God.
“You may think I'm crazy, and you may tell me to leave wh
en I share this with you,” he said, “because I don't know you well. But God has laid this message on my heart, and I'm convinced that I am to tell you something. How you respond is up to you.” Dr. Cole turned to the Bible and read a brief passage to us. His hands were shaking as he held the Book and said, “I just want you to know that there are going to be many people who will come to you, and they will call themselves brothers, but they want to use you for their own personal gain.” Dr. Cole went on to explain how he felt that because of our simple, childlike faith, we were vulnerable to be taken advantage of by wolves in sheep's clothing. He encouraged us to get grounded in God's Word, the Bible, so we could tell the difference between the genuine brothers and sisters and the counterfeits.
I was shocked. I'd lived and worked in an extremely competitive world for most of my life; I was acutely aware of the backstabbing, undermining, and wheeling and dealing that goes on every day in the film industry. I was accustomed to dealing with users, abusers, and other losers. But Dr. Cole was clearly implying that we needed to beware of people who came to us in the name of God, whose motives were suspect, and who were seeking only their own selfish aggrandizement. It was obvious that his own words caused him great sadness and pain as he spoke to us.
Dr. Cole visited with us for about thirty minutes; we talked about his wife, Nancy, and how he missed her, and we talked briefly about our family; we hugged Ed, and then he left. He had no sooner gone out the door when Gena was overwhelmed. “Honey, do you realize what just happened here?” she asked. “God used Ed Cole to speak to you and me. He brought him all the way across Dallas in the middle of a bad storm to tell you this message because God loves you so much!”
We didn't hear from Ed for a while, and when we did, the news wasn't good. We received a letter from Dr. Cole in Los Angeles asking us to call him, and to pray for him, that he was bedridden and had been diagnosed with cancer. We called him right away and realized that his condition was worse than Dr. Cole was letting on.
Gena and I decided to fly to Dallas to see him at his bedside. We took my son, Mike, along with us. Dr. Cole's eyes still danced with light and life, but his body looked feeble and sickly. It was obvious that he was not going to be with us much longer. Nevertheless, he greeted us warmly when we entered his room. We talked for a few minutes, and then my son, Mike, literally dropped to his knees at Ed Cole's bedside. He grabbed Dr. Cole's hand and began praying for our friend.
Mike completed his prayer, and while he remained on his knees, Dr. Cole reached over, placed his hand on Mike's head, and in language reminiscent of an Old Testament prophet, Dr. Cole prayed a blessing over Mike's life. It was one of the most powerful spiritual experiences I've encountered to date. I'm convinced that part of Mike's passion to develop family-oriented, faith-based films is directly attributable to that blessing bestowed upon him by Dr. Ed Cole.
As we prepared to leave, Ed looked up at us and said, “I cannot believe that you love me so much that you'd get on a plane to come see me.”
It was the last time we ever saw him on earth. He died a few weeks after our visit, just short of his eightieth birthday. We missed the mighty man of God who had become so dear to us in such a short period of time, but we knew we'd see him again in heaven.
Over the last three decades of his life, Dr. Cole had been a featured speaker at many events encouraging men to trust in God, to be faithful husbands and fathers, to be real men. I recognized that in some ways, he and I were trying to do the same thing. What a legacy he left for me!
CHAPTER 28
THE PRESIDENT'S MAN
Gena loves to make every day special, but she goes out of her way to celebrate my birthdays. One of the most memorable was a birthday “party” she planned for me while I was still filming Walker, Texas Ranger. Weeks in advance of the actual date, she started dropping little clues about what we were going to do on my birthday, but I was baffled. She began sending me intriguing notes, similar to a treasure hunt, several days before my birthday. I still couldn't figure out what she had in mind, but I knew it had to be good!
Two days before my birthday, I was working on a scene of Walker, when a bag lady walked on the set. Frumpy looking, wearing several layers of clothing, and carrying a large grocery bag, the woman somehow got through our security guards and literally walked right into the middle of a scene while we were filming!
I could hardly believe my eyes! I've had strange situations occur before but never one in the middle of a scene. I once had a female fan claim that she was carrying my baby because she had become pregnant through watching my program on television. She'd even sent photos of the baby! Anyone who has ever worked on television or in movies has their own collection of overzealous fan stories.
“Excuse me, ma'am,” I said, trying to be polite but firm. “You can't be here. We're trying to film.”
The woman seemed totally unconcerned. “Oh, that's quite all right, sonny. I've come with a special message for you. I must give you something,” she said as she attempted to hand her bag to me.
I waved her off. “No, thank you, Ma'am,” I said, not sure what she had in the bag. “I appreciate your kindness, but you really must leave.” I glanced at our security guys a few feet away and noticed they were ready to put the clamps on her. “I don't want to be rude,” I continued, “but we're trying to work here. Fellows, please help this dear woman find her way out.”
The security men came over and positioned themselves on each side of the woman. When she protested their encouragement that she leave, the guys simply lifted her up by her arms and carried her off the set, still kicking and screaming.
I just shook my head. I didn't know what to think. A few minutes later the bag lady came storming back on the set, and on the bottom of her bag was another of Gena's clues concerning my upcoming birthday surprise. Everyone on the set that day broke up in laugher; they'd all been in on the joke, everyone except me!
The following day I was back at work on the set when the producer, Gary Brown, came up to me and said, “Gena wants me to blindfold you. Can I do it?”
I looked at Gary and laughed, intuitively knowing that our work for the day was done. “Oh, OK,” I responded.
Gary blindfolded me and led me off the set, out the door, and across the parking lot. “Step up, Chuck,” Gary said, as he guided me onto a set of narrow steps. I stepped inside a vehicle and sat down, still blindfolded. Suddenly, I heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter motor. We took off, and the copter whisked Gary and me across Dallas to Addison Airport. From there Gary put me on a jet, still blindfolded, where Gena greeted me and helped me to my seat. Once we took off, Gena said, “OK, now you can take off the blindfold.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You'll find out!” she answered.
We landed in Cancun, and Phil Cameron, our personal security person, met us and helped us through the customs process. From there we went to a hotel, where we spent the night.
The following morning, Gena had arranged for a boat to pick us up for what I thought might be a simple, romantic cruise. I should have known better! As we crossed the harbor, I noticed a small plane approaching, an enormous message trailing behind it. As the plane flew closer overhead, I could read the words, “Happy Birthday, Stud-muffin!”
A few moments later another plane appeared in the sky. The plane circled our boat and began dropping roses … not a few roses, not rose petals. Thousands of full red roses began dropping from the sky. It looked as though the heavens were raining roses!
We arrived at Isla Muires, a private island where Gena had arranged for me to do something I've always wanted to do—swim with the dolphins. Afterward we had a quiet, private dinner. It was truly a birthday I will never forget!
I'm not nearly as expressive as Gena or as extravagant in my planning, so for her next birthday I wrote her a song. Anyone who has ever heard me sing knows what a sacrifice that was for me to put my voice on tape and give it to my wife. Gena cried when she heard the so
ng, not because of my poor singing but because of my attempt to express my heartfelt love for her in a fresh, new way.
Certainly not every couple can fly off to Cancun and cause it to rain roses, and not everyone would want to write a song for the person he or she loves. But I'd encourage you to do something creative to make memories with your loved ones. Gena and I try to do special things for each other every day, simply to keep our love fresh and alive, but her exceptional efforts to celebrate my birthday in the year 2000 were more than I could have ever expected.
That same year, I had a great time campaigning for our forty-third President just as I had for the forty-first President twelve years earlier. I first came out strong for George W. Bush when he campaigned for governor of Texas in 1994 against a formidable foe, incumbent Governor Ann Richards, who was running for a second term. Ms. Richards constantly derided George Bush on television for his conservative views, and her snide, unfair comments annoyed and frustrated me.
I've known George W. since I campaigned for his father in 1988, so when I was asked to join his campaign for governor, I said, “There is nothing I would rather do!” By then our television show, Walker, Texas Ranger, was garnering great ratings, and I felt that if my popularity as the star of the show could help George W. Bush's campaign, I was ready.
On the campaign trail, my job was to introduce George W. at rallies. I often started off my speech by telling the crowd how happy I was to be campaigning for George Walker Bush. I'd pause, then say, “Walker, … I just love that name.” The crowd would break out laughing and cheering because they knew that was my character's name on TV.
Against All Odds: My Story Page 21