Navy Testimony
by Travis Rath


I was nineteen years old, in the Navy and stationed on board the USS Kitty Hawk in Philadelphia Pennsylvania. I had a Christian upbringing, and occasionally dabbled in Christianity when it served my purpose. But I had never made a selfless commitment to Christ.
One night three friends and I decided that we were going to get some beer and go drink it down at this new place we had found called Penn Treaty Park. For you history buffs, this is where William Penn first landed and declared freedom of religion, and signed a treaty with the local native tribe. This is also the origination point for the Mason Dixon Line. Anyway, we got there about 10pm, there were several other people there drinking and having a "good" time, over in the far back part of the park was a large party going on complete with campfire and screaming hoodlums, but nothing out of the ordinary.

We parked our car under the statue of William Penn, there was a concrete walking path that circled around the park that was probably 1/4 mile in length; this path came within shouting distance of the large party that was going on, but not too close. We sat on the tailgate of my truck, a 1980 GMC Jimmy, for about an hour just talking and enjoying the night; it was at this point we decided to take a slow walk down the concrete path.

We walked for a short time, passing by several other people walking on the path. We walked passed the large party that was going on, giving it little notice. As we walked we heard a bottle break in our general vicinity, and a few guys were yelling at us. They ran up on us fairly quickly. There were just three of them; they cut us off forcing us to stop walking. One of them accused me of "flipping him off", my only thought was about how juvenile this kid was, we weren't scared at the time, because there were four of us and only three of them.
In the next instance one of the partiers elbowed one of my friends in the face breaking his nose and instantly knocking him out cold; I looked down and saw a trash can with some bottles in it, I started to reach for one, when the partier that was standing closest to me said "I wouldn't do that", and then he hit me in the face with a beer bottle breaking my nose. Two of us managed to fight off the three of them, while the other carried our unconscious friend back to my truck.

By the time we reached the truck the whole group of partiers had gravitated towards us, and we were totally surrounded by what looked to be about 75 people, men and women. Realizing the very bad situation we were in, we decided to make our escape as quick as possible. I unlocked to drivers side door of my truck and, I assume, gave the keys to my friend, the only one who had not been hurt. I ran around to the passenger side and helped put our unconscious buddy in the back seat, and then got myself into the front. We sat there for what seemed an eternity, the mob outside had turned black and ferocious, and they started shaking and pounding on my truck, screaming and yelling at us; that's when my friend in the drivers seat said, "Where are the keys?" That one little question rang in my head like the huge bell, I knew I had to go outside the general safety of the truck and find the keys. I opened the door of the truck and jumped out into the crowd expecting to be clobbered, surprisingly I was mostly ignored by them. A kid from the crowd pushed past me and jumped into the truck, ripped the console lid off and proceeded to beat our unconscious friend mercilessly over the head with it. I decided that I didn't have the time to deal with him; I had to find the keys!

In the military they always stress that in any type of hand to hand combat you must always maintain your footing, and that if you should fall your opponent then has the advantage and that you are at that point "as good as dead." I walked around the truck and saw one of the partiers trying to kick in my back window so he could steal our beer, did I mention my truck had about a 6 inch lift kit on it, so actually this was quite a humorous site. Anyway, as I walked I felt several people grab me, I tried to fight my way out but I was surrounded suddenly, by this bloodthirsty mob. They were punching me and hitting me with whatever they had in their hands. I heard a single gun shot ring out, and thought to myself "One of my friends is dead". At this point our attackers pushed me to the ground, and I thought, "Now I'm as good as dead!"

I was being kicked in the ribs, head, and about everywhere else, amazingly I didn't feel any of it. The next thing I remember is walking toward my truck, I remember leaning against it using it for support. As I walked along it, I saw that I was leaving a long thick trail of blood on the bold white stripe on the side of the truck. I finally managed to climb into the truck, once I was in my friend started the truck and we hurriedly left.

Amazingly all four of us survived this ordeal, and made it to the Naval hospital were they treated our wounds. I had a severely broken nose and had a large gash in my head that required 37 stitches to mend. Our friend that was knocked unconscious from the beginning, had a severe concussion, most likely caused by the pounding he received from the console lid of my truck, everyone else was fine. The next day we were talking about what had happened, I asked them about the gunshot I had heard. The guy that was driving said, "Some kid pulled out a 45 automatic, smashed the glass with it, pointed it at my head and yelled that he was going to kill me; then he fired it in the air several times and left"; when I asked them where they had found the keys, the guy who was driving replied, "When those two big guys carried you back to the truck, they gave them to us". I will tell you one thing that I know for sure; I don't remember two guys carrying me back to the truck. That time frame is one of the few that I felt I was decently lucid, and I don't remember two guys helping me. And actually if you think about it the chances of someone helping us was almost non-existent, because they would most assuredly receive the same thrashing that we got. But, our other friend who was sitting in the back seat spoke up and said, "It was the weirdest thing these two guys helped you into the truck, then handed us the keys, and said Get out of here NOW!"

The strangeness does not end here, two years later when I was telling my mom this story she told me that she had woke up out of a dead sleep and felt the uncontrollable urge to pray for my protection, which she did. Then she told me that about an hour or so after she prayed for me, one of my friends called her from the Naval hospital and told her what had happened, and that I was alright.
I don't remember that happening either.

I must say that I feel in awe, that God would take such a personal interest in my life while I was still a sinner. What a truly wonderful God he is. As it is written "God demonstrates his love for us in this; While we were still sinners, Christ died for us", Halleluiah.