Meant to Live, Storytime by Papa D

Meant to Live is the premiere episode of Storytime by Papa D — a new storytelling series featuring unforgettable tales inspired by real life, history, mystery, survival, and imagination.

In this powerful and emotional story, a Vietnam soldier named Dale survives not one… but multiple near-death experiences that seem almost impossible to explain. From fiery helicopter crashes deep in the jungle… to a devastating tornado back home in Nebraska… Dale struggles to understand why he keeps surviving when so many others do not.

Years later, he finally discovers the answer that changes his life forever.

Narrated by Papa D in a warm fireside storytelling style, Meant to Live is a moving story about survival, purpose, trauma, faith, and hope.

Some names and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the storytelling experience.

If you enjoyed this episode, please follow the podcast, leave a review, and share your thoughts about the story.

More stories are still to come.

#StorytimeByPapaD #MeantToLive #VietnamStory #InspirationalStory #Audiobook #Storytelling #TrueStoryInspired #PapaD #EmotionalStories #SurvivalStory

Transcript

SPEAKER_02 0:01

This may sound too unbelievable to be real. Too fantastic to be true. But it's true. Dale survived a helicopter crash in Vietnam. In fact, he was the sole survivor. He jumped out of the helicopter at an extremely high altitude and survived somehow. But that's not all. He survived another one. Almost the same weight in Vietnam, another helicopter, and again, this is sole survivor. Then he survived a deadly explosion that killed everybody but him. Then a tornado destroyed his family's home while he stood outside and it literally passed over his head. And after all that, Dale came to believe one thing. He was meant to live. Stick around, and you'll learn the reason why. The stories you are about to hear are inspired by real life, real people, real experiences, and sometimes pure imagination. Some names, locations, conversations, and details have been changed, both to protect the privacy of real people and allow the stories themselves to unfold in the best possible way. Some parts are remembered exactly as they happen, some parts are reimagined through the lens of storytelling, and some parts belong only to the storyteller. But whether the stories come from truth, memory, history, mystery, adventure, or imagination, each one has something worth discovering. So settle in, relax, and welcome to the world of story time by Papa D. Tonight's story comes from my book, Starley's Legacy, Tragedy to Triumph. It's available on Amazon and through booksellers everywhere. The title of tonight's story is Meant to Live. It's a story about a friend of mine named Dale. The helicopter was flying low over the jungle, just above the trees, as it approached a clearing where the Viet Cong guerrillas were believed to have set up camp. Dale sat near the open side of the craft. His legs dangled freely, and most of his body was outside the helicopter, more than inside it. He leaned forward, rifle ready, trying to get a clear view of the enemy below. Another door gunner was doing the same thing on the opposite side of the helicopter. Three other American soldiers, including the pilot, were inside the cockpit. Dale would remember something strange about that moment. In the middle of the war, even with death waiting somewhere beneath the trees, he noticed how beautiful the jungle was. The green leaves scattered in the wind as the helicopter blades beat the air above them. And at that very same time, he felt sick knowing he was about to kill other human beings, or be killed himself. Suddenly the forest opened to the clearing below. Dale looked through his scope, searching for a target, but to his surprise, the Viet Cong were ready. This was supposed to be a surprise attack. Before Dale could fully process what was happening, a rocket propelled grenade launched from the ground and streaked directly toward the cockpit. Imagine how frightening that had been. He saw a plume of smoke. He heard the hiss of the rocket, and then the missile punched through the windshield. The explosion was deafening. It ruptured one of Dale's eardrums, but the other had but other than the pain in his ear, he felt nothing at first. The helicopter began spinning out of control. Dell had been trained for this situation. He was supposed to stay in the helicopter all the way to the ground. But training disappeared in that moment. Instinct took over. He unstrapped his seatbelt and jumped. As he fell, tree leaves and branches slapped against his face and body. Each limb slowed him just a little more. The branch nearly stopped his fall entirely, but somehow Dell landed safely on the ground. He immediately rolled over onto his belly and lying flat, trying not to be seen. Even with his injured ear, he could hear the helicopter crash into the jungle and explode. When the blast faded, he heard the yells of the Viet Cong celebrating their victory. For a moment, Dale thought about what they might do if they found him. That thought was enough to make him move. He could hear them. They could hear him. And if they could hear him, they could see him if he stood up. At least that's how Dale reasoned it at the moment. So instead of standing, he rolled down the slope of the hill where he landed. Once the hill shielded him from sight, he got to his feet and ran as fast as he could. He heard shots behind him, but he didn't know whether they were shooting at him or firing into the sky in celebration. At one point, Dell had to climb a hill. He knew once he reached the top he would be visible for a great distance. He looked around for another option. There was none. So he climbed. When he reached the top and looked back, he could see enemy soldiers in the distance. One of them pointed in his direction. They had seen him. Dale's heart raced and he sprinted through the forest as fast as he could. He had no idea where he was going. For all he knew, he might be running directly into the more entered me enemy forces. But he had no time to stop, no map, no radio, no GPS or iPhones, no way to figure out where he was. He fell more than once, but each time he sprang back to his feet and kept running. Then without warning, the forest opened up into a flat, grassy field. Dell could hear the Viet Cong behind him, and he knew they would reach the field before he could make it to the woods on the other side of the clearing. But he had no better choice. So he ran. His heart pounded as he sprinted across the field. When he was about three quarters of the way to the next tree line, the Viet Cong began firing. Dale heard bullets buzzing past him. Maybe some of that was his imagination, but he heard them. And as he ran he began to pray. Not that he would survive. He prayed that if he was going to be shot, it would be a headshot, so death would come quickly. With each step, he got closer to the woods in front of him. Then suddenly he saw movement among the trees. Even with sweat dripping from his eyes, even with the vision of shaking from every pounding step, he made out human figures ahead. He slowed his pace. He feared he was running straight into the arms of the North Vietnamese army. Then the people in the woods began firing rifles in his direction. Dell dropped to the ground. Soldiers appeared from the tree, still firing. But then Dell realized something. They weren't firing at him, they were firing past him. They were American soldiers. They had been rescued, or he had been rescued. Two days later, Dale lay in a military hospital bed. That's when he learned everyone else aboard the helicopter had died in the crash. He hadn't known those men very long, but he had known them long enough to like them. And now he couldn't stop seeing their faces. Dale had survived. They had not. And somehow that made him feel guilty. He felt as though he had done something wrong by living. Physically, Dale wasn't injured too badly. He had a minor concussion, cuts, bruises, and dehydration, and of course a busted eardrum. But emotionally, he was shaken. He expected to be released from the army once he recovered. He thought maybe that would be some consolation after everything he had been through. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of fallen crewmates. He tried to push those images away by thinking about his mother and father back on the farm in Nebraska. When Dale was finally discharged from the hospital, he reported to his commanding officer, that's when he learned he was not going home. He was being assigned to another helicopter crew as a door gunner. Dale thought he might get sick right there in front of his commanding officer. He tried to explain that he wasn't ready. He tried to tell them he couldn't go back up in another helicopter, but his superiors weren't interested in his mental condition. He had survived, so to them he could serve. When Dale met his new crewmates, he tried not to look them in the eyes. He avoided studying their faces. He told them he would only know them by their voices. He told himself he would know them only by their voices. But he couldn't do it. Each time the helicopter lifted in the air, Dell found himself looking at each man, wondering if these were their final moments alive. Their missions were dangerous. They weren't rescuing anyone, they weren't delivering supplies, they were providing air cover for ground troops or attacking enemy positions in remote areas. They were always shooting, and they were always being shot at. Dell could not remember exactly how much time had passed or how many missions he flew before his final flight with this crew, but he remembered the flight itself. The helicopter was flying fast, about a thousand feet in the air as they approached the target below. Then Dale saw it again. The plume of smoke, the hiss of the rocket, the missile racing from the ground, the pilot maneuvered to avoid it, just as he had done many times before. But this time the rocket struck the helicopter's mast, and the rotor bladder rotor blades detached. The helicopter dropped like a rock, and Dale reacted the only way his instincts knew how. Once again, he jumped. But this time the fall was much farther. Dale guessed he was about seven or eight hundred feet in the air when he left the helicopter. Once again, tree limbs struck his body as he fell toward the earth, but this time he didn't make it to the ground. A tree limb stopped him. It impaled him. Dale was left hanging in the tree, facing the sky, unable to move. Imagine that. He was in terrible pain. A limb had penetrated his body and punctured one of his lungs. Breathing became difficult. He passed out. He passed in and out of consciousness. And at some point he heard voices in the jungle below. Vietnamese voices. He knew if they looked up, they would see him. And if they saw him, they would almost mur almost certainly shoot him. At that moment, that was exactly what he wanted: a quick death. There were stories about what happened to American soldiers who fell into enemy hands in Vietnam, and it wasn't good. Dale did not want to be taken alive. His eyes were open to the bright blue sky above him, but in his mind, he saw his family's farm in Nebraska. He prayed for God to end his suffering quickly. The voices below him grew faint. They had not looked up. They had not seen him. And as the sun set, the sky above Dale grew darker. The next time he woke it was night, and the sky was filled with stars. He didn't know how badly he was injured. He didn't know how much blood he had lost. He didn't know if he was bleeding internally. He couldn't move. So most of the time he slept. The next day, rain woke him. He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, trying to catch as much water as he could. A day passed, maybe two. Dale could never say for sure. He had lost track of time. Then he heard voices below him. As the voices came closer, he recognized the language. They were Americans. They were right below him. Dale knew his only chance to live was for them to look up. He tried to call out, but his punctured lung would not give him enough air to yell. He tried to move his legs which dangled beneath him, but he could barely feel them. Some of the soldiers had already moved on. Others were still nearby. But no one had looked up. Then Dale remembered something. There was a whistle in his pocket. The military had issued it to him. He reached for it, brought it to his parched lips, and tried to blow. Hardly any sound came out. He tried again. His lung hurt, but he tried again, still almost nothing. From the sounds below, Dell could tell the last soldiers were in line about to pass him. This was his last chance. He inhaled as deeply as he could with one lung. Then he blew that whistle one more time. This time it made a small squeaking sound, just loud enough. One soldier stopped, looked up, and saw Dale hanging in the tree above him. Dale could not remember how they got him down, but they did. Once again, he was transported to a military hospital. This time the hospital was in Japan. His recovery took more than a month because his injuries were much more serious than the time before. Fortunately, none of the physical injuries were permanent, but then Dale learned something that broke him all over again. Once again, he was the only survivor from his crew. Every time a doctor or nurse came in to see him, Dale told them the same thing. I want to go home. Please tell them to send me home. After Dale was released from the hospital, he reported to his commanding officer. He begged to be sent home. Once again, his request was denied. Dale tried to plead his case again, but his commanding officer cut him off. That was when Dale decided he had nothing to lose. You can court martial me or you can shoot me by firing squad, but I'm never getting on another helicopter. So Dale was reassigned to infantry duty, and he never flew in another helicopter again. Months passed without incident. Then one day, Dale was sitting in a foxhole with another soldier when a messenger arrived. The messenger told Dale he had to report to his commanding officer. No reason was given. The messenger took Dale's place in the foxhole. There had been no fighting that morning. Everything seemed quiet. But when Dale was only a few hundred yards away, he heard a loud explosion behind him. He turned around and saw a black cloud of smoke rising from the foxhole where he had just left. The foxhole had been hit. The same foxhole where Dale had been sitting only moments before. If that messenger had arrived just a few minutes later, Dale would have been killed. Once again, Dale had survived when someone else had not. Maybe his commanding officer finally noticed Dale's history because after that Dale was assigned to non combat duty. But in some ways, his news job may have been worse than combat. Dale was assigned to take place Dale was assigned to place dead soldiers into body bags and then to load them into planes to be flown back to the United States. Oh, can you imagine? One body after another, day after day. Eventually the wake the weight broke him. Dell suffered a nervous breakdown and was admitted to a military psychiatric hospital. Finally, he was discharged from the army and sent home to Nebraska. The whole time he had been in Vietnam, Dale had imagined that going home would bring peace. He thought everything would return to normal. But Vietnam came home with him. Years later, Dale told me what he felt like. It may have been my imagination, but I felt like everyone treated me differently. They looked at me differently, like I was a freak. I may have been acting strange, so maybe they were looking at me differently. Dale made one attempt to leave the farm and go into town, but he was so paranoid that he came home and would not leave the house again. He had trouble carrying on a normal conversation with anyone, not even his mother or father. So he treated so he retreated to his bedroom and hardly came out. At night his sleep was filled with nightmares. Many years later Dale said something that stayed with me. I thought it was odd that I didn't have nightmares in Vietnam, but as soon as I got home, I had them every night. You would think it'd be the other way around. At first Dale's mother pampered him. She brought him food to his bedroom and tried to care for him the only way she knew how. But Dale's father refused to pamper him. One day he finally had enough of what he saw as Dale's feeling sorry for himself. He ordered Dale out of his room. Make yourself useful and go clean the barn. Dale had not been outside for weeks, but when he stepped out into the sunlight, it felt good to his face. The wind was blowing, and the strong breeze felt refreshing. The barn was several hundred yards from the house. And for the first time in a long while, Dale enjoyed every step. He cleaned the barn. Then he started walking back to the house. The wind grew stronger. Then suddenly, off in the distance behind the house, Dale saw a huge funnel cloud forming. It was moving directly towards his house. Toward his parents. And towards him. The tornado moved quickly, throwing dusk and debris into the air. Dale watched in horror as his parents' home was struck and it tore it apart. He had only seconds to react. He looked around for the lowest place to lie down, but Nebraska is flat and there was no ditch nearby. So Dale dropped flat on the ground, face down, and covered his head with his hands. The sound of the tornado passing over him was deafening. But when it passed, Dale was unharmed. The barn behind him had been leveled, but that was not what frightened him the most. His family house had been wiped down to the slab. Dale said one thing out loud Not again. Then he ran toward the house with tears in his eyes. With every step, he thought the same. Thing once again, he was gonna be the sole survivor of a tragedy. But this time was worse than all the others. This time it was his parents. He wondered if he was cursed. The house was destroyed down to its foundation. There was no sign of his mother or father, not even a body. Then Dale heard a banging sound. He moved toward it and began pulling away boards, farming studs, framing studs, and debris. Underneath it all, he uncovered the door to a storm shelter. The door swung open. His father climbed out. Then his mother. They were alive. Dale hugged him tightly. They hung him back. And for the first time since he had been deployed to Vietnam, Dale actually broke down and cried. He cried loudly. He cried hard. He cried for what felt like a very long time. His mother said to him, and his mother held him and said, Go ahead, cry it out of you. And Dale did. He cried and cried and cried. And when he finally stopped, his mother spoke again.

SPEAKER_00 23:20

It's all right, Dale. The house can be rebuilt, and things can be replaced, but we are still here. God wasn't ready for us yet. He still has a plan for us.

SPEAKER_02 23:33

About 40 years later, Dale told me this story. He was hosting a barbecue for his son's baseball teammates, their coaches and their parents. I was one of those parents. And that day, Dale trusted me with a story that he had not shared with very many people. He said he'd never even told his son this story. And had only told his wife once. He told me that after the tornado, something changed inside of him.

SPEAKER_01 24:07

That's when I realized I was meant to live.

SPEAKER_02 24:17

Then Dale pointed towards his only son. He was only around 14 years old, maybe younger at the time, and Dale was in his 70s. He had waited late in life to get married and start a family. In fact, for a while he probably thought he never would have one. Now I know. He is my purpose. After hearing this incredible story, I had to ask, Dale, has anything like the the helicopters or the tornado, anything like that happened to you since then, or especially reason recently? No. Not a single thing. I said, Whew! Well, in that case, I think I'm gonna keep my distance from you. You're overdue. Of course he knew I was joking and we both laughed, but then he continued.

SPEAKER_01 25:11

In fact, after that day, I was able to live life again. I stopped having nightmares. I stopped thinking about the past. I was able to get a job. I was able to carry on conversations like a normal person. Once I realized the reason I survived all those things was because God had a purpose for me. I no longer felt guilt or shame.

SPEAKER_02 25:34

As I mentioned before, Dell did not like talking about what happened to him, and for that reason, his name's been changed. But I will say this, I was honored that he felt close enough to me to share his story. And I believe his story is worth preserving because some people survive and never understand why. But Dell did. He was meant to live. And he knew why. I hope you enjoyed tonight's story. Meant to live. If this story touched you in some way or made you think, I'd really love to hear from you. Tell me in the comment section what you liked, what you didn't like, or what you think could make this channel even better. And if you enjoy stories like this stories about life, mystery, history, survival, inspiration, and imagination, I hope you'll take a moment to like this video, subscribe to the channel, and ring the notification bell so you'll know when the next story is released. There are many more stories still to come. Until next time, this is Papa D. Wishing you peace, hope, and good night.