God’s Giant Hands: The Near Death Experience of Rick Defer

 

Introductory statement

This story was written by a remarkable Spirit-filled woman named Kaitee Lusk, who interviewed former firefighter Rick Defer and wrote the story in his own words. I’ve never met her in person, but I did correspond with her. It was Rick that told me about her. When I met him at church one day in Citrus Heights in 2007, he told me a bit about his accident and showed several of us the scars from where he was electrocuted at work in 1980. There was a clear dent in his chest, and his hands still bore the scars of that unfortunate day. He also told me Kaitee’s amazing story, so I contacted her by email and she sent me the written narrative below as well as a written account of receiving a call from God to go to the Philippines and contact President Ferdinand Marcos in order to relay a divine answer to his private prayer. You can find Kaitee’s astonishing story here.

I’ve done a bit of light editing on grammar points and shortened the story to fit the blog. It’s still rather long, but it’s a great read.

A bit of introductory background: Rick’s biological father graduated from San Quentin the same year Rick graduated from High School. He never really knew his father, but his mother and step father did their best to raise him well. Rick spent some time in juvenal prison as a young man. He married 3 times. He had full custody of a son from the second marriage and was determined to be a good father. The woman from the third marriage helped him raise the boy. After he married Linnea, she rocked his world by becoming a Christian. Rick also accepted Christ.

Rick’s story, written by Kaitee

To my surprise, however, my acceptance did not change me as quickly and as dramatically as Linnea. I still went to football games on Sunday instead of going to church. I still had a rather foul mouth and continued to drink and carouse just as I had before. But things did begin to change rapidly after that. When the fire department retired me because of several medical disabilities, we decided to move out of Los Angeles. Since we enjoyed the mountains and the snow, Linnea and the children surveyed the Tahoe area. There was something “unique” about the old town of Truckee that I couldn’t resist. So, after buying a house in Tahoe Donner, I went back to get our family and we moved into our wonderful new home in 1978.

But things didn’t stay “wonderful,” and in the spring of 1980 Linnea and I were divorced. This third divorce was much more traumatic than the others were because as a Christian couple we were not supposed to divorce, but when you accept Christ, he doesn’t take away your free will. We chose to divorce. We split the money we had between us, and after giving Linnea the business we had, I left and took a job with North Tahoe Transit Mix. It was a good job and I was doing quite well until October 8, 1980 when I drove a 50-foot boom truck to a job site at the top of Tahoe Donner on Alder Creek Road.

After pumping concrete into the house foundation, I accidentally ran the boom into a 7200-volt feeder line that feeds electricity to upper Tahoe Donner. I had been standing on the ground on top of wet fill dirt with the control box between my hands. When the boom hit the feeder line, thousands of volts bolted into the control box and against my chest. The impact threw me to the ground where, according to witnesses, for five minutes I thrashed around like an open-butted fire hose as electricity snaked through my body. People at the job site tried desperately to get the box off my chest but couldn’t. The line finally burned through, releasing my body from its power and some people ran to check me out. There was no pulse nor breathing or movement of any kind.

I found out later that the electricity entered my body at the sternum, traveled through and out of my right groin and upper thigh and also exited from the inside of my right knee and both feet. I had been wearing steel-shank and steel-toed boots, which spread the electricity completely around my feet burning them severely.

After checking for respiration and finding none they decided I’d been electrocuted the moment the electricity hit me. So they attempted no CPR, no mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and left me for dead. Someone ran to a neighboring house to call for help. Some minutes later paramedics arrived from Tahoe Forest Hospital. After listening to witnesses and checking me out, they too, decided that after all this time (about 30 minutes) I was long gone. There was no CPR, no resuscitation, no defibrillation, and I was officially pronounced dead. I actually was, but I didn’t know it.

 Incredibly, as I lay there, I was enjoying a feeling of love, peace and serenity I’d never experienced before. Though I saw no bright lights or anything like that I envisioned or had a knowledge of “Giant Hands” holding me very still and firmly. I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I was being “cradled” just like a baby in a mother’s womb. I was contented, comfortable, and filled with joy as I floated in these Giant Hands. I experienced no pain, no panic, and had an unfathomable knowledge that everything was okay. Though I didn’t think of heaven or anything like that I had this inner recognition that was so strong I just knew I was in the arms of the Lord. As I basked and reveled in those Giant Hands everything suddenly went blank and though I have no personal recollection of coming back to life, the paramedics and others gave me a recount of what they saw.

After pronouncing me dead they said that I suddenly sat up, threw off the sheet that had been placed over me, and started talking to the paramedics (After 30 minutes without oxygen). My sudden “resurrection” caused no small reaction among those still at the scene. Though totally stunned and in awe, they began giving me first aid. A young paramedic later told me that I didn’t like some of the things he was doing and that I reached up, grabbed him by the throat and then told him that he was embarrassing his profession by the way he was treating me. He reported I gave him a little instant first aid lesson, and he said, “Okay,” and I let go of his throat.

After finishing their immediate treatment, I was transported to Tahoe Forest Hospital. According to witnesses there I looked and acted very normal except for my burns. They said I was talking coherently and even cracking some jokes. From there Fixed Wing Aircraft transported me to Sacramento’s UCD Medical Center. When I woke up the next morning, I still couldn’t recall anything except being “cradled” in those Giant Hands. Those secure and wonderful giant arms! From then on I remembered everything that happened to me and could’ve almost wished I were back in those arms.

When I saw all the bandages, the IV’s monitoring the pulse in my feet, the electrical devices at my chest to monitor my blood pressure and pulse, I was overcome with emotion. I looked like I was literally “wired for sound.” The physicians were astounded by the fact that my pulse was normal. My blood pressure was perfect, 120/80, and even my internal functions were perfect. They could find no medical explanation for that. For me there was only one explanation—that when God protects you, He protects you.

The next day, three young pastors, Eric, Tom, and Rob, from Church on the Lake in Incline Village, came to visit me. The doctors had given me large doses of drugs to ease the pain, but they weren’t working. After visiting awhile, we joined hands for a prayer. Eric and Tom were holding my bandaged hands, and Rob put his head on my right shin with both hands on either side of his head. Eric was the first to pray and within seconds I had the most astounding experience. I felt a very warm tingly sensation start at my feet and work up each leg up through my torso, into my arms and my head and out my hands. And, once again, I knew the Lord - by His Holy Spirit - was enveloping me because that same feeling of peace, serenity and knowledge come upon me as I had experienced when he cradled me.  

The pain in my chest, groin, feet, and hands disappeared. It was awesome! I was so astonished I opened my eyes in disbelief! When Eric finished praying, they each looked at their hands. They were red with the heat that had come through my body! Even Rob’s forehead was red. We were all astonished because Eric and Tom were holding bandaged hands; they hadn’t even touched my skin while they were praying.

Later that day, the orthopedic surgeon and a herd of interns came into my room. UCD is a teaching university, and my doctor was talking quite a bit about my “unusual” case (“Unusual” is easier to say than “miraculous”). He shared with them how astonished they were that I was even alive. After that they determined they were going to amputate both my legs about seven to seven and one-half inches below my knees. I tried negotiating with them on that idea because it was just my feet that were burned. I saw no reason to cut off so much of “good” leg. To my dismay I was quickly informed that it was the best length for the best fit for my future prosthetics if I were to walk again. But, he also said that because I had numerous exit areas on my right leg that they would examine the option of saving it together with some of my right foot. That decision would be made during the surgery. Since he didn’t seem very optimistic, I fully expected to have both of my legs amputated when I came from the operating room. To my surprise, however, only my left leg was amputated 7 and ½ inches below the knee and my right foot was only one half amputated.

For the next 16 days I traveled in and out of the burn unit for treatment. However, there was no treatment to erase the “after-shocks”—words like freak and cripple—that haunted me wherever I went. I had deep emotional feelings about where my life was going. What kind of life would I have? What was I going to be able to do? Would I ever ski again? I was missing part of my left leg and one half of my right foot was amputated and disfigured. Would a woman ever love me?  Could she look at me and not notice the ugly scar on my chest where the electricity entered and scared hands? I became so focused on my deformities that I became more of an emotional cripple than a physical one.

Within approximately two weeks after the amputations (and much sooner than anyone expected) I left the hospital. Why was I in such a hurry? Well, I happened to be coach of a soccer team that my son was on and wanted desperately to be at their championship game. My friends said that just seeing me there on the field gave them immeasurable inspiration.

A few months later I developed an addiction to my pain medication. Without realizing it I had been doubling and tripling the dosage. When we take drugs, we need to recognize that medication, regardless of legality, are often addictive, and you find yourself not thinking clearly anymore, resulting in a transition from the doctor’s prescription to illegal drugs. Marijuana was my first. I was quite apprehensive and fearful of cocaine but had no fear of marijuana because I’d experimented with it before. It helped with some of the pain and nausea that was initially corrected by the prescribed drugs. But I began feeling guilty, and during my next visit to the doctor, shared with him that I was smoking “dope.” He said if it helped with my pain and nausea, and I didn’t have any other side effects, to go ahead and do it.

So, I rationalized that it was okay. After all my doctor affirmed it was OK, and I was a cripple and in a lot of pain. The problem was that the insurance company certainly wouldn’t pay for marijuana, so I had to buy it. Little by little, I found myself not caring, slipping more and more into illegal behavior and further into the criminal world. The young man who first talked me into drugs now offered to sell half of my stash to pay for it as my medication. So, now all of a sudden I became a dealer.

Smoking marijuana can cause you to like the feeling it gives you, which adds to the irrational behavior of continuing to smoke it. Not too much later, my son-in-law offered me some cocaine, and I took it without even batting an eye. This quickly pushed me into a much deeper involvement in the criminal community. Satan had really found a way to trap me and penetrate my Christianity. Jesus saves us, but He doesn’t take away our free will!

 
Somehow, I couldn’t stop loving the Lord, and I continued to pray, but I was far from Him. The drugs had severely short-circuited my prayer life. There were no answers, no blessings while I was doing drugs, and eventually I lost my home and my car. I had no job, no support from friends, family, or church. After going through many different kinds of hospitalizations and withdrawals, I came to what I call the final event. I was taking a drug prescribed by a psychiatrist known as Emempromine. This was supposed to help me quit my cocaine habit, but I became addicted to his prescription as well.

One wintry day I ran out of Emempromine. I thought I was coming down with the flu, but it didn’t take long to realize that I was entering withdrawals. I called the doctor and explained the circumstances. He agreed that I was one of the “unfortunate ones” to have that kind of side effect from Emempromine, but if I could get down to the hospital, he’d give me a prescription for another drug to counteract his previous prescription.

New horizons!

One thing became abundantly clear. I was not capable of getting to the hospital. There was a raging blizzard outside, and all I had was a bicycle. I was trapped like a hamster in a wheel inside of a cage. So I told the doctor “No thank you” and that I wouldn’t be calling him anymore, and I prepared myself. I’d gone through withdrawals before and I knew what to expect. I stripped down to my shorts and brought in some firewood placed a bucket on the coffee table, turned on the TV, and was ready to face it for however long it took. At the end of four days and nights of intense vomiting, pain, anger, depression, and all of the emotions that one could imagine, I suddenly remembered the book of Luke and the story of the “Prodigal Son.” I had my doubts as to whether or not the Lord would take me back, but I had nowhere else to go, and I was so purged and so exhausted after dozens of hours of vomiting into a bucket, that I lay back on the couch and said the following prayer, “Father, I’m so tired. I don’t have the energy to give you one of those fancy “thee and thou” preacher prayers. I just want to come back to you and I need some help. Amen.” 

To my astonishment when I woke up eighteen hours later the blizzard was over, the sky was blue and dotted with puffy white clouds, and I had not frozen to death. As I shook the cobwebs out of my head, I remembered my prayer and realized that God had answered it. He knew my heart and knew I’d been sincere. I had an overwhelming feeling that I needed to do something to show an act of faith and an act of repentance for His mercy. At first, I didn’t know what, but I had to do something, so I began gathering things around the house that were drug related—cocaine vials, mirrors, razors, baggies (I found some that still had drugs in them), and pipes for smoking marijuana. Amazingly, instead of smoking or snorting the drugs, I found my desire for them had disappeared. I held them in my hands and opened the door of the stove, which had a new fire in it, and said, “Lord, this is my physical act of repentance and my thanks for hearing me.” I threw all of the drug paraphernalia into the fire. This was the first day of the rest of my life.

Approximately two weeks later I began to see those “Giant Hands” move in my behalf in a new and awesome way. One of my stepdaughters happened to contact my son, which led to my getting into a conversation with Linnea. One thing led to another, and, incredibly, after five years of being divorced I found myself sleeping on her couch when the house foreclosed. Almost immediately those Giant Hands began molding a new love for me in Linnea’s heart. Within a very short time they drew us into a new and better marriage than I ever imagined. However, though I now had a new future, I still had my drug-related past clinging to me like the “placenta” after a baby is born. It needed to be dealt with and discarded.

During my drug-related escapades I was arrested on several charges (9 felony counts) and I still had to face the consequences for those.

Well, I enrolled in a vocational rehabilitation school, started working again and in my spare time. Believing the Lord would protect me, I did some undercover work for four police agencies. After two years I was finally called to trial for my previous arrests. The four police agencies—Washoe County Narcotics Unit, Nevada County Sheriff’s Office, Placer County Sheriff’s Office, and the DEA, testified that they had never seen anyone more dedicated and more fruitful in helping them. The detective from Washoe County Narcotics testified that over 18 criminals and many drug offenders were prosecuted as a direct result of my activities. According to the police I was also the key factor in a murder case that would never have been solved had I not stood up as a witness. Through all of this, the Lord was loyal to me. I was never harmed even in the smallest way, and the nine serious counts pending against me were all dropped. I was allowed to plead guilty to one count of possession of marijuana and given a probation of up to five years. I served two of those and then was miraculously kicked out of the system as completed. Some time later, in checking my records, I found that they had been “expunged,” as if they had never happened. The same thing happens when you give your heart to Christ—the past is “erased”—as if it never happened.

If any man is in Christ, he is a “new” creature. The old is passed away and behold all things become new.” (2 Cor. 5:17)