Advent Devotions

Today’s author is Prince of Peace member, Antoinette Sveom.

Dale, Trudy, and their baby, Karri Manley, lived two houses away from us in Northeast Minneapolis for about a year. I was working on my education degree, and since Trudy was also a teacher, we had a lot to talk about. I also enjoyed hanging over the fender and chatting with Dale while he worked on the general maintenance of their car. 

In November 1975, my parents invited them over for dinner, and we enjoyed a delightful evening together. After dinner, Karri and I played on the living room carpet, allowing us to continue sharing stories. During our chat, we learned that Dale had his pilot’s license and was planning to fly their family to visit Trudy’s family in Alabama for Christmas.

On the evening of Friday, December 19, 1975, I was sitting on the sofa feeling relieved and exhausted after finishing the semester while also working half-time to pay for my tuition. I thought about my friends flying the next day to visit family in Alabama for the holidays. I figured they’d be busy preparing for their departure so instead of going to greet them, I tipped myself into a reclining position on the sofa to watch TV.

The next Monday morning as I was getting ready to go to work, I heard this news report on the radio. 

“A Northeast Minneapolis couple and their infant daughter died when their light plane crashed near Vinton, Iowa on Saturday night. The victims were Dale H. Manley, his wife Trudy, and their 16-month-old daughter, Karri.

The single-engine plane had been rented from the Skylark Flying Club at Crystal Airport. The Manleys were en route to Hamilton, Alabama when their plane crashed. The cause of the crash is unknown.”

I was shocked by some additional gruesome details of the crash site. That day at work, I functioned in a daze, overwhelmed by sadness and regret for not visiting them the previous Friday evening. My parents and I discussed what might have caused the crash. We speculated that they may have delayed their flight while taking care of last-minute packing and holiday preparations, which could mean they were flying after sunset as temperatures were dropping. These conditions could have led to icing on the airplane’s wings.

The doorbell rang early in the evening as we reminisced about these special people in our lives. I opened the door to find a young man holding a wrapped vase of red roses. When I brought it back to the kitchen, we were shocked to read the card that said, “Merry Christmas from Dale, Trudy, and Karri.” The bittersweet irony of their gift deeply affected us as we mourned their loss.

I was shocked for the second time that day! In that moment, I realized that although I’d missed a moment of grace by staying home instead of greeting my friends before their trip, I received God’s abundant grace through the gift of flowers from my dear friends.