The First Miracle of Pensacola

"My belief is that God loves to shine His light at many different times, but it shines the brightest when the room is the darkest."

Many of us had seen things on television or read about events in books or magazines that were considered by some to be miracles. Very few of us have ever thought we experienced a miracle, although in retrospect, many of us probably have. There is no set definition as to what a miracle is. Miracles can be of any size or of varying degrees of significance. In short, the only common denominator for miracles is that they are divine in nature.

Early in my career in the Navy, I was stationed in Pensacola to attend Cryptology School. While stationed there, I witnessed what I believe to be a miracle. The standing rule of the school was due to the fact it was very expensive to attend, failure was not tolerated, and there would be no second chance for those that failed. We were all told that the next tour of duty was out to the fleet to be a general Seaman doing deck duties.

The rumor mill was that Cryptology School was one of the hardest schools in the Navy. The basic segment of the school that I was enrolled in consisted of learning Morse code and then increasing in proficiency (speed and accuracy) every week for the first three months. This was coupled with considerable (and difficult) book work.

My cousin Betty was now living in Pensacola and was a nun residing at the local convent. I would visit Betty at the convent on weekends, and the nuns accepted me as if I lived there. Once in a while I would take my Jewish roommate (Ira) with me. Ira loved the nuns and they loved him. Every time Ira and I would get back to the base after visiting the convent, Ira would call his parents in New York City and ask that question somewhat taken from Funny Girl - “Would a convent take a Jewish boy?”

As time went on, the coursework grew harder and I started to fall behind on the code. My parents were scheduled to visit Pensacola and Betty had secured lodging for us while they were visiting. I did not have the courage to tell my parents that I was failing. And because of that, would probably not be able to spend any time with them.

The school mandated that immediately prior to failing, and a student being dis-enrolled, the failing student was put on mandatory overtime. Everything was done to attempt to get the failing student caught up. Every student had to achieve the “speed of the week” by close of class every Friday. The “speed of the week” was the number of words per minute of code that could be copied at 95% accuracy.

The week before my parents were to arrive, I was five or six speeds behind the speed of the week. I would be on mandatory overtime the week that they were there and probably dismissed the week after. In other words, if things did not turn around in a monumental way, my parents and I would both be leaving Pensacola the following week.

The Sunday before my parents arrived, I was at the convent for dinner. I guess I did not have much of a poker face since Betty asked me what was wrong. I poured out my heart and felt so lost. I was failing at one of the best opportunities ever given to me. The Mother Superior of the convent told me the nuns would pray for me the next morning at vespers. I thanked her. To me, telling someone that you will pray for them was like wishing them “good luck”. It was a nice gesture and I appreciated it. I did not think that it would do any good, but it was kind of her to make the offer.

Monday morning I entered the classroom, got behind my typewriter, and put on my earphones. I was ready for another day of frustration. As the code started to come across my headphones and filter into my ears, it was clear and concise. I knew which keys to hit. It was no longer code – it was another language that I understood as clearly as English.

To make a long story short, by lunch time I had passed five or six speeds I was behind and caught up to the speed of the week. My instructors were mystified. I believe they were trying to find out if (or how) I was cheating. By the end of the day, I passed another four speeds and was way ahead of the speed of the week! My parents came down, Betty and I were able to spend time with them, and I was going to be able to finish my training.

The postscript to this story is as follows: I never again doubted the power of prayer. Was this a miracle that happened? It was to me. It had a profound effect on my life and I will never forget it. I was so far ahead in my code training, I ended up getting promoted to the class ahead of mine and then finished third overall in that class.

On that Monday in Pensacola, God in his infinite wisdom said “No, this will not be a day of frustration; this will be a day of victory”. Why did God lift me up that day? I don’t know – but I do know it was for a reason. Maybe the reason was for what I am doing right now. I have told this story many times and will continue to tell it in the future. My belief is that God loves to shine His light at many different times, but it shines the brightest when the room is the darkest.