Garms Family Road Stories: Call the Elevator Man!
Probably everyone who has hit the road singing Gospel music has picked up some memorable stories along the way. I asked Ben Garms of the Garms Family to share a few of theirs; here’s the first one.
My middle name should be “unique”. Of course, most everyone in my family has a certain level of uniqueness about them, but I seemed to have acquired a special measure of …”uniqueness”.
There came a time (and it hasn’t been the only time, which the rest of the family can attest 🙂 ) where this came out loud and clear. We were in Isle, Minnesota, unloading our equipment into the second-story sanctuary of the church. The church was almost a hundred years old, yet building maintenance had been kept up very well. They had at one time installed what I call a “lift” type elevator. It’s the kind which a platform is contained in a glass well. You look up, and you can see where you’re going, and you look down, and you can see where you came from. (Great for height-lovers like me…NOT!) It was one of my first encounters with such a device.
When we met the promoter, she had explained that we could use the elevator for our unloading purposes. About half-way through the process, I had a considerable load to take up to the sanctuary, and no one else was around to help me out. So, using my head, I thought, “Well, I’ll just use the elevator! Why haul it up some steep steps?” By the time I had the stuff in front of the elevator door, Leesha had shown up. I confided to her my plan, and she said, “Okay?”. I loaded the things into the elevator, and looking around the cramped space, saw the button that made the thing go up, and gave it a push.
From here on, my memory fails me. All I remember was that I was halfway up the glass shaft, STUCK and going nowhere, with Leesha and the promoter staring at me. Some how, in some way, I had done something to cause this horrific situation. I think it had something to do with releasing the button, but I don’t know for sure. And with my great love for heights (NOT!), I was as comfortable as a fish in a fish bowl with a cat staring at it. I don’t even remember what I did to get moving again. By the time I was up to the second story, I had nine pairs of eyes staring at me! I do remember the urge to scream for help as loud as I could, but that wouldn’t have served any purpose other than to hurt my ears.
So, after I was out of the elevator, I made up for the muddle the best I could, by staying out of the elevator! The next time I had to use a “lift” type elevator, I made sure I followed all the instructions.
Submitted by Ben – ’cause he’s “Ben” there!