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speak with a scholar's insight. For someone who did nothing for so long, his thoughts and words tell of a healthy spiritual life.

It's been many years since each of the mentioned milestones happened in Michael Cole's life. Despite everything that has tried to bring him down and pull him into never-ending despair, today he has peace of mind, a spiritual understanding of his life, and, crucially important, a deep, abiding friendship with his ex-wife . . . the mother of his only child.

He showed me a sketch he had done right on his wall, a cross with a humanistic flower object draped across it, as Christ had been hung on the cross. Next to his sketch, he had written, "This time, Father, they know what they do."

"Yes," he smiled as our interview came to a close, "all in God's time, not ours. God gave me a gift, I wasted it for awhile, but no longer. I'm ready to begin to use it again."

*

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was one of my favorite of all interviews. Michael had picked me up at a 7-Eleven at the foot of the long, winding road that went up to his beautiful, large home in the California foothills. He handed me into his dark-green, very expensive car and, as I closed the door, it got away from me and slammed.

"Hey!" he exclaimed as he got into his side. "Don't do that!"

I apologized, explaining that I didn't slam it intentionally. He was clearly very careful with his vehicle.

We arrived at his home and he led me into the house, where we sat together at his dining table. He got me a diet soda, and then we talked. And talked. And talked. It was like a dam had burst.

This was a dream-come-true for me. Michael Cole had been my young girlhood perfect guy - and here I was as an adult, at his dining table, in his home, chatting with him as if we were long-time friends. When we finally finished talking, he allowed me to take his photo in front of his drawing on his wall.

But the most amazing part, really, beyond everything else . . . interview over, photos done - Michael Cole, the Michael Cole, wanted to cook me dinner. Yes, he wanted me to have dinner with him - and he would be the chef. Spaghetti, as a matter of fact. I thanked him for the offer and, for reasons I'll never understand, for as long as I live . . . I said, "No, thank you."

Can you imagine?!

Learn more about this author, Linda Alexander.
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