Man who had a brain tumor.

Marv's wife could not share this publicly because her heart was so tender at the time of the interview and with her permission we decided we would. The very next Sunday after Marv's death, guess where she was to be found? Sitting in the front row of church, in the exact spot she and Marv always sat, with her hands raised, praising the Lord with as much joy and enthusiasm as ever. Perhaps one of the greatest manifestations of God we have ever seen was how fast Marv's wife was able to go on with her life and not let this loss of her mate slow down her walk and work with the Lord. The joy of the Lord has not once left her through this difficult time, and we marveled at how God had so miraculously manifested Himself through her. We believe that others close to her will verify this observation as well.

So why did God wait until after Marv died for this interview to be conducted and published? We honestly believe there is no simple answer. For each one about to read this, perhaps God has something special just for you.

-- Norm Rasmussen, Director

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Marv Sherwood didn't believe there was a God. He would never believe, unless he had proof. Then a brain tumor was found in his head. Out came the tumor ... and somehow ... in went God.

Marv was one of those guys who were just plain tough. For instance, let me tell you about the time he was in Grand Haven, Michigan. He was with a motorcycle buddy of his, and Marv was goosing his bike, making loud noises. A policeman came up and caught him, and motioned for him to pull over. But Marv wasn't going to pull over, because he couldn't afford another ticket, so off he took.

The police were going to handcuff Marv's buddy, Skipper, and leave him alongside the road until they could come back for him, but he protested, so they let him ride along in the patrol car. And so the chase was on to catch Marv.

Marv tore down a one-way street in Holland, Michigan, going the wrong way. The police threw up a roadblock, and he turned and went down another highway. There was a brick-like structure of some sort in the middle of the highway, and the police car that Skipper was in was parked right by the structure. There was just enough space left between the police car and the brick structure for Marv to get through, and he made a try for it.

Just as Marv was closing in on the police car, the policeman threw his car in reverse in an attempt to block Marv's way to smack him up against a wall, but he was a fraction of a second too late, because he missed the reverse gear. Marv made it by him without a scratch.

Marv opened the throttle on his motorcycle and roared down the highway. A short ways later he left the main road and took to a gravel road. He was doing about 90 miles an hour when he left the pavement, and exited onto the country road. At that point, a patrolman stopped his car, jumped out, and fired four quick rounds at Marv. Luckily none of them connected.

Marv then left the dirt road and took to an irrigation ditch. He knew he had to get away from the roads. But the irrigation ditch was muddy in spots, and Marv kept having to pull his bike out of the mud.

He finally made it to a cornfield, but his head was a little higher than the top of the corn, and the police spotted his helmet from a distance bobbing up and down on the horizon. About eight police cruisers began to surround the vicinity, closing in on him.

In desperation, Marv asked a young boy where he could go to hide, and the young boy directed him into a pickle field. Marv rode into the pickle field, looking for a place to hide. But there was none, and because he was exhausted from pulling the bike out of the mud so many times, he finally couldn't go any further. It was then that the police moved in on him.

One policeman came up and put his gun to Marv's head. The motorcycle was lying on its side with the throttle stuck open, revving wide open. "Don't touch that bike!" yelled the policeman over the roar of the screaming bike. With one hand over his head, Marv disobeyed the order and reached down with his free hand and turned the bike off so it wouldn't burn up - risking being shot. Shortly thereafter, they threw him in a police cruiser and off to jail he went.

In jail at Grand Haven, Marv made friends with some of the policemen quickly. They let me bring in all kinds of things to him. One policeman said to Marv, "You had better have your wife and daughter come up here to talk to the judge to see if that will soften him, because they are out to nail you. They're going to throw the book at you. Have her see the judge before your trial comes up."

So I saw the judge as quickly as I could. I told the judge that they were holding my husband. He asked me what my husband did to get thrown in jail. I said, "Well, he was on a motorcycle, and a policeman stopped him ... ", and then he interrupted me by saying, "Is that your husband that I've been hearing on the news all morning?"

I said, "Yeah, but judge, that's not the real him. I don't know what happened, but he couldn't afford to get another ticket, and he just lost his head. Please - give him another chance. If he gets a jail term out of this, we'll lose our house, his job, we'll lose everything. "That afternoon Marv stood before the judge in the courtroom. The judge wrote down 90 days in jail, and showed it to Marv. Marv swallowed hard, and lowered his head. Then the judge marked "suspended" behind it. He said, "You know ... you've got a family that really loves you, and they think an awful lot of you. You'd better start riding a bicycle from now on!" Marv was given an $85 ticket, which was all the money we had. That was our house payment. There was no other money, because Marv constantly drank it up in booze. The judge threw in one other requirement as well. Marv was to go to the owner of the pickle field and make amends with that person, because he had torn up the pickle crop.

We went up there the following night, and this big, tall gray-haired lady came walking up and Marv identified himself as the guy who had rodded his motorcycle through the pickle patch a few days previous. The woman let out a whoop, jumped in the air, and exclaimed, "Are you that guy who was riding that motorcycle?! It was my boy who directed you out of that cornfield into the pickle field." She called her boy over to us, and said, "You know, we've never had so much excitement here ... it was exciting to watch you ride that motorcycle the way you did! Forget the damage. "So for starters, that was the kind of guy Marv was. Tough, and not afraid of anyone or anything.

Marv and I met in grade school. I was eight years old. We went to school together until we were 16, at such time we quit. I was madly in love with Marv, although it was one-sided for the most part. Once we started dating regularly, we went together two years and three months and got married at age 18.At that time, Marv drank alcohol or had wild streaks in him. He was a regular homebody. I worked at General Motors. I worked nights, and he worked days. Marv's buddies at work kept after him to go out with them after work and have a few drinks. Marv rejected their invitations for quite awhile, but they kept at him to be a part of their crowd at the bars. Besides, they kept pointing out to him that because I was gone all night long at work, why sit home alone?

Finally he gave in, and he got more deeply involved with them. He was age 20 then. Before I knew it, I never knew when he was going to come home. He might come home right from work, and then again it might be midnight or 2 AM in the morning. And Marv had a terrible temper. When he came home, you had better have everything just so, or he would get furious. Dinner had better be ready, or he would erupt into anger.

Eventually Marv got involved with a motorcycle gang and started tearing around with them. He was the type of guy who wouldn't take anything from anybody. He'd just as soon smack you as look at you. He would go into the rough part of town and wouldn't care what might happen to him. He had no fear of anything.

Marv began to drink heavier and heavier, and I can hardly think back to a time when he didn't have a drink in his hand. Whether driving a car or whatever he was doing, he always had a drink. Marv's whole life began to center around himself. He just didn't care about anything but himself. He wanted to do his thing and enjoy himself no matter how it affected anyone else. He hung around four particular guys most of the time, and eventually they all lost their wives. In fact, they grew upset at Marv because he was the only one who stayed married out of the whole bunch of them.

Interestingly enough, it seemed about once a year we would somehow end up talking about God. Marv would always be quick to say that there was no God. Now, at that time, I really thought I had it together spiritually, because I knew there was a God. But that's all I knew. But Marv would exclaim that there was no God. "No way! Can't be! If there were a God, I'd have to see a miracle! That's the only way I would believe there's a God! "I'd tell Marv, "Well with one swipe of God's hand, He could take everything we've got." But Marv would counter with, "Oh baloney! I got everything by myself and no one helped me. What I got I got by myself!"

Like I said, we'd go through this thing about once a year, talking about God, and one time we were standing in the dining room, and again we happened to be talking about the Lord, and Marv said again, "Well, everything I've got I got by myself. I'd have to see a miracle before I'd believe in God! "A few short weeks later on a Saturday morning Marv and I were planning on going out for breakfast. Marv was standing in the bathroom getting ready, drying his hair. We were laughing and joking, and all of a sudden I noticed Marv looked real strange like. I said, "Marv, quit clowning around! He didn't answer me, and his face was terrible looking. All of a sudden his face started turning up, and his hands started drawing up behind him. And then he hit the floor. I ran over to be by him and noticed he was just staring into space.

I called my daughter Kim, and then an ambulance. Marv was totally out of it, but his eyes were still open. When he saw the ambulance men, you could see the fear in his eyes. He laid there about 20 minutes before they rushed him to the hospital. He began to revive after awhile, and then they began to run tests on him. They did brain scans. They released him, but then a couple of weeks later they took him in overnight at the hospital. They finally diagnosed his problem as a brain tumor.

Growing up, Marv never had headaches to any great degree. Because he had a bad temper, he sometimes would get so angry that he would get a headache from that, but not from anything else. So with this tumor, he never had headaches previous to finding it or any vision problems. When the doctor came down and showed me and Marv the pictures they had taken, the doctor told Marv that it was very large, and that it should come out immediately. Marv's reaction was, "Whether I live ten minutes, ten weeks, or ten months, you're not cutting me from ear to ear!"

"If you can't afford it, don't worry about the money. The tumor has to come out," said the doctors.  Marv's reply to that was, "You're not touching me! No one's cutting me open. "I think the doctors began to stall for time, hoping Marv would change his mind, but Marv was dead set against an operation.

It was on a Friday that a new brain surgeon walked in and said boldly to Marv, "I don't know what this nonsense is all about, but this tumor Marv looked at him kind of funny-like, thought a moment, and said, "Okay, if that's what you say." Just like that. There was neither rhyme nor reason why he suddenly had a change of mind. No one could believe what Marv was saying. The doctors told Marv that he might pull through the surgery without any problem, or he might become blind, or he might be a vegetable. Those were some of the possibilities, without any certainty of knowing which might happen.

We left the hospital, and a couple of hours later Marv was sitting in his chair at home. Right out of the blue, he said to me softly, "Honey ... will you go pray with me? "I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I said, "What?" He said, "Will you go pray with me? "And so we did. We went into the bedroom, got down on our knees, and Marv prayed that the Lord would guide the surgeon's hands. And I was praying to myself: Lord, you've got to deal with him differently. He's always wanted a miracle, so NOW's the time to show him one! I had never prayed before that time either, so I didn't know anymore about prayer than what he did.

We went to bed that night, and the next morning when we woke up I told Marv, "Uhhh ... I don't understand this, but I know you're going to be alright. I had a dream during the night -or a vision, or something ... I don't know what, but I was in a great big room, and the doctor came in, and he raised his hand in the air from left to right, and said, 'He's good.'

The surgery was scheduled to last between nine and ten hours. Marv went into surgery about 8:30 AM. At about 11:30 AM I had a terrible pain in my heart, and I thought, 'oh no ... something must have happened to him! 'At about 11:55 AM the doctor opened the door. I quickly glanced at the clock and saw that he was about four hours early and then I glanced back at him. I'm sure he could see the anxiety in me. I was petrified. The doctor moved his arm twice from left to right, just like in my dream. He said, "He's good ... he's good! "I flew across the room and grabbed that doctor and almost knocked him through the wall, I was so happy. After I calmed down, he took us in a room and told us all about it. He said that the tumor was the size of a small tennis ball. I asked him, "How could that big thing live inside Marv's brain like that? "He said, "The brain accepted it as it grew. We don't know whether it grew in two months, two years, or twenty years. All we know is that the brain moved back to allow that foreign matter to grow there. He continued, "Marv should be going home in six days. And you know what? He didn't take any blood. They always take blood, but Marv didn't take a drop."

When Marv came home from the hospital, he had a beer. The doctor said that he could drink if he wanted to, but Marv took one swallow and got loaded. Marv could not believe he was getting loaded on one swallow, and said, "This can't be! How can it be?! "He got so disgusted about the whole thing that he dumped the rest of the bottle of beer down the drain. The next day he opened another beer and the same thing happened. He had one swallow and he was drunk again. Marv couldn't believe it. "This CAN'T be!" he exclaimed again. "I take one swallow of beer and get loaded! How crazy can things get?!""Well!" he said, "that's it! I'm done! I'll never drink again!" And he stayed true to his word. Don't ask me how the Lord made it all come about. All I know is God allowed him to get loaded on one swallow, and somehow it disgusted Marv so much that he talked himself into quitting.

I really don't know how . . . I don't know how to tell you how the Lord began to teach us to walk with Him. All I can remember is that one day right out of the blue Marv said with tears of compassion "They sewed Jesus up in there (pointing to where the brain tumor had been in his head). I'll never forget what Jesus did for me." When he told me that, I confided in him that while he was in the hospital recuperating, I had made a promise to the Lord. I promised Him that if He would heal Marv completely, I would go to church that next Sunday. Big bargain right? Well, when I had told that to Marv in the hospital - that I would not see him Sunday morning because I was going to church that day - Marv said not for me to go until he could go with me. I couldn't believe that either, because he had been tough as nails all his life. He would never have stepped foot inside a church prior to his brain surgery.

Marv recuperated for two weeks, and then he went to church with me. It was beautiful how the Lord began to move in his life and mine. Ever since that moment when Marv said that they sewed Jesus up inside his head, he thirsted to know more about the Lord. We both began to attend church regularly, learning all we could. I remember one time in particular we were at a service and an evangelist by the name of Gary Thompson was guest speaker. After the service, Gary announced that if anyone wanted prayer, they could come forward and be prayed for.

Marv had a lump of some kind on his back, so he walked forward to receive prayer. He asked the evangelist to pray to the Lord to heal that lump on his back.

The evangelist began to pray, and as he did, Marv keeled right over on his back. I don't know how long he was there on the floor, but after awhile, he got up, and went to talk to the evangelist again. The evangelist then asked Marv if he wanted to receive the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, and Marv said, "I'll take all I can get!" The evangelist began to pray again for him, and BAMM, down he went a second time! That time he stayed down for almost 45 minutes.

I got scared for Marv, and started shaking. What have they done to Marv? I asked myself. I left the sanctuary ... went downstairs to the restroom and started crying, I was all upset, wanting to know what they were doing to my precious Marv. I finally went back upstairs, and Marv came around. I was so relieved when he told me that he was okay, and that he had been under the power of God all the time he had been laying on the floor. "It was the most incredible thing I've ever experienced," he told me with a glow on his face. And beyond a shadow of a doubt, he had definitely received a strong measure of God's Holy Spirit because from that moment on he had been set free to worship and praise God freely like he never had before.

Months went by and one night I noticed that Marv's face looked a little swollen on one side. We went to bed, and the next morning when we woke up, Marv's eye was swollen up like a baseball. I took him to the doctor, and the nurse began to back away with fright. Marv looked so ugly. "Well, am I going to die?" Marv asked the nurse matter-of-factly.  'No, but that's the worse case of shingles I have ever seen she replied.

The doctors examined him and began to zero in on something defective in his lymph glands. The doctor took me aside and said that Marv was so bad that he was going to have to have surgery. I told the doctor that Marv had sworn that he would never have surgery again, so that was out.

The doctor gave us medication to apply on the sores, and I stayed home from work and cleaned his face often soaking and cleaning each sore with medication. On Tuesday of that week, I remember Marv taking a nap. Afterwards, he came walking down the hallway, and suddenly he stopped. He began to speak softly, "Lord, I serve you with everything I've got. Why? Why? Why is this happening to me? It's so horrible." He was near the point of tears, crying out to God. I can't recall all the details, but God led us to the book of Job in the Old Testament. It was there that we realized that Satan was the one afflicting Marv, and not God.

Marv decided to go to church on Wednesday night, against the advice of everyone close to him. His face was a mess, swollen beyond comprehension. So we went to church. During the song service, the Pastor's wife said, "Let's sing for Marv the song: VICTORY IN JESUS and those that are near him - let's lay hands on him. "I could sense a power I had never sensed before in that church. Before I knew it everyone in the whole church had emptied out of his or her seat and had come forward to pray for Marv. And then the Pastor stood up and said that he was going to do something he had never done before. They called Marv forward, and the Pastor said to him, "We're going to do just like the scriptures say to do. We're going to anoint you with oil, and all the elders are going to pray and believe that God is going to heal you."

Then the Pastor said, "This half of the church say: Jesus - Jesus - Jesus, and this other side of the church say: To God be the Glory - to God be the Glory. "It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Awhile later, Marv came down off the platform with sort of a distant look on his face. In a confident sort of way, he said softly to me, "I'm healed. "I looked at Marv's deformed face and grew sick inside. He looked like a monster; his face was so swollen and infected. I thought to myself: He looks pretty BAD for being healed.

I couldn't hide my true feelings, no matter how I wanted to.  "Marv ... honey..." I said softly and compassionately as I knew how. "You're ... you're the same. Don't ... you realize?"  "Yes, I know!" he said, and then his voice got softer, "but God met me there at the altar. I'm healed!"

The next day he had an appointment to see two specialists. All the way there he was chipper, and he kept saying, "Honey don't worry about a thing. Have faith. I'm healed! Quit worrying; God touched me last night!  "A good friend of mine was with us, and the three of us walked into the doctor's office and shortly thereafter Marv was examined. After a thorough going over, one doctor turned to the other and said, "I can't find anything wrong with him, can you?"  "Nope," the other one said.  Marv jumped up and exclaimed to me, "I told you so! I told you my Jesus healed me last night!"

Within one week's time Marv was back to work, completely healed, with the swelling and pain completely gone. What often takes months and months of pain and suffering when one normally gets shingles as bad as Marv had them, God let it only be a week for him. Marv and I couldn't love the Lord enough for such a precious blessing after that.

Like I mentioned earlier, Marv began to change dramatically, as he grew in his relationship with the Lord. I remember one day Marv sat our little five year old granddaughter on his lap. He knew she was learning how to read, and he said to her, "Come here honey and sit on Grandpa's lap. Grandpa's going to teach you about Jesus. "She climbed up on his lap, and he turned to Matthew Chapter 5 and began to read: Blessed is the peacemaker ... and all the B-Attitudes. She loved the attention he was giving her, and it blessed me so.

Years down the road, Marv said to me one day. "You know, Pat, God has blessed me so much. There is nothing else He could give me in this life. My grandchildren know the Lord, and He's given me a wife who knows the Lord. What more could I ever want? And you know, if I was to die today, I wouldn't trade my old life for this new life for nothing. I truly am a blessed man."

Two weeks later, Marv and I got up that morning like we did every other morning to go to work. I had to leave the house at 5:35 AM to make it to work on time. So to be ready on time, I always got out of bed at 4:30 AM. Marv would get up with me and we would read the Bible together, or listen to Bible tapes on cassette. At 5:30 AM we would turn the TV on and watch the 700 Club program. There was a Christian soap opera on at that time, and on it was a woman from India, I think. When she spoke, she would say, "Dissss izzzzz dattttt," for "This is that". Marv and I would pick up on that, and we would use that expression in teasing and kidding one another while I got ready.

Marv would have my coat ready, my purse and lunch, and everything else I needed each morning to send me on my way, and that morning was no different. He was anxious for me that morning, wondering if I was going to be ready by the time that my ride came to pick me up. Finally I was, and I ran out the door to catch my ride.  Marv stood in the doorway, and as I moved down the steps, He said, "Guess what's on?"   "What?" I asked, as I stopped momentarily to respond to his question.  "Dissss izzzzz dattttt is on!", and we began laughing together. I walked on to the car, and before I stepped in, I turned around and said to my hunk, "I love ya'.."

I hadn't been to work very long when I got the phone call. "Something has happened to Marv. "I was told that he was okay - that I was not to worry - and that they were taking him to the hospital to have him checked out. I could meet them there, I was told. I was waiting at the hospital when the ambulance pulled up. They pulled Marv out and all I could see were his shoes sticking out from under the sheet. That was about 8:OO AM in the morning. Around 9:30 AM I was given the official word ... he was gone. Their preliminary guess was that he had died of a heart attack.

Shortly thereafter they asked me if I wanted an autopsy performed on him. They notified me that it would be $600, and I would have to pay for it. I looked at my daughter, my son-in-law, and my mother-in-law, and I said, "You know, I've never gone through anything like this. I'm really confused. I don't know what to say or do." I remember looking down at the ground ... thinking and thinking. I could hear people talking in the background, but they were distant. My thoughts were on Marv.  Suddenly I got to thinking: WHY should they cut up that beautiful body? And then I said, "No! You're not going to do it!" And then I thought inwardly, Now WHY did I say that? I've left the decision up to the kids, and now I'm telling them what I've decided.

And then the Lord let me know why. It was the next morning. I was talking to the Lord, sort of talking like this: "Lord, I'm so confused. I want everything to be just right for Marv. How can I know what is right and not right? You always spoke so clearly to Marv. When you said NO, he could hear you so plainly. Or when you said YES, he never had any problem hearing your voice and guidance. But me, Lord, you know me; I've always had a problem hearing you plainly. But with Marv around, he could always help me make decisions so well. But now he's gone, and I'm lost without him."

About 6:30 AM that morning my daughter Kim began talking to my mother-in-law, and she began explaining to her, "No, Grandma, Marv didn't fall like they thought he did. He was talking to the girls at the shop, and suddenly he stopped talking, and they turned around to look and suddenly he was gone. Right in the middle of a conversation he went to be with the Lord. The Lord just came and took his spirit right there on the spot. "With that conversation going on, the Lord suddenly spoke to me, "That is why I told you 'NO'."

About four years previous to that morning, Marv once said to me that if anything should ever happen to him, have this song sung at his funeral: TO GOD BE THE GLORY. He wanted everything to be for the glory of God. I remember telling Marv at that time, "You know, Marv, we're going together in the rapture. We don't need any songs sung, or to worry about funeral arrangements. "But a funeral had become necessary, and it happened to turn out perfect. Brother Phil McClain, Director of Western Michigan Teen Challenge, was able to attend, and he sang the song Marv had requested.

With the funeral behind us, one day my little granddaughter came up to me and said, "You know, Grandma, I want to read what Grandpa taught me from the Bible. "She started reading the B-Attitudes from Matthew Chapter 5 and all of a sudden she stopped and said, "Grandma ... I can still hear Grandpa's voice. "I fought back the tears, and finally managed to respond. "Honey . . . he sure taught you a lot, didn't he? "Softly, she replied, "Yes." Suddenly she asked, "Grandma, when we get to heaven, do you think we're going to have jobs to do? "I said, "Well ... we're going to do something," thankful that the subject had changed. Then she said so innocently, "I think we're going to praise and worship ... Jesus." "I think you're right." I said, wiping away the tears I was trying to conceal. "You know, Grandma, I can't wait to be there. I can't wait! It's not going to be a job. It's going to be FUN!"

Thinking back ... it was so glorious to see Marv and how he walked with God. He was so happy to know that his family loved Jesus. Sometimes he would just lay back in bed, with his hands raised in the air, praising the Lord and thanking Him for letting his family all grow together in the Lord. For me, it was so precious to see him communing like that with the Father, with tears of love streaming down his face. Why - years before, you wouldn't see Marv shed a tear. Nothing could make him cry. But there he would be, just communing and fellowshipping with God, offering praise and thanks as he worshipped his Maker. What a glorious change had come over him as he turned his back on the things of the world and determined to walk with his Creator.

Another time, I remember Marv was working outside. He had torn apart the entire lawnmower, and the parts were spread all over the driveway. Mechanically, Marv always lacked, and that was not like him to tackle a project such as that. After a long time of fussing and struggling, he walked into the house, and just sort of stood there for a few moments without saying a word. All of a sudden he started bawling like a little baby. Tears started streaming down his face like a river, and I asked him, "What in heaven's name is the matter?! Did you get hurt?!"

Through sobs and tears, he blared out, "No! It's just ... just JESUS! JESUS ... that's all." And I asked, "Well honey... what happened?" He replied tenderly, "Oh... JESUS just put the whole thing back together. "I said, "You mean its running? "He replied, "I haven't even tried it yet."  "Boy! That's going by faith!" I exclaimed. At that point, he walked out of the house, gave the rope a pull on the mower, and it started! But that was Marv. He loved the Lord over the simplest things sometimes, and he just couldn't praise the Lord enough.

Our last few years together were glorious. The Lord placed us in a church where there were so many beautiful people. Marv just couldn't thank God enough for the counseling ministry we had there, and the people we had to fellowship with. He loved them so much. And you know Marv grew to be so tenderhearted. He had to talk with everybody, and see everybody, and - and he was just like a little kid. He always had a pocket pull of jawbreakers for the kids at church. He always had a jawbreaker to hand to a child that needed a special touch.

My first time back to church after Marv died, a woman came up to me and told me that when she had told her daughter that Mr. Sherwood (Marv) had gone to be with the Lord, the little girl thought for a moment and replied, "Oh ... I wonder if he took Jesus a jawbreaker?" Two days after Marv died I received a letter from California. It was from one of the guys Marv had chummed around with from the old motorcycle gang. He happened to be the toughest of the bunch, outside of Marv himself. Over a long period of time, Marv would talk to this guy over the phone, telling him to get his life right with the Lord and stuff like that. Not preaching, but just speaking what was on his heart. Well, in the letter this guy wrote me, he said:

"You know, I've lived out here in California now for 21 years. Not once did you guys come out here to visit me during all that time -not once. But you know what, that's okay, because this morning . . . I looked out my window . . . and I saw Marv dancing on the ocean. Then Marv said to me, "Skipper ... I'm not staying. I've got a job I've always wanted, and I can't wait to get to it. I don't want to be late!"