Lifting a Bus

This Month in the Ensign there is a story called "My Lifeline Was Prayer" By Phyllis Bishop. The story is one i have heard my whole life. It's of my great grandfather, James Alfred Hansen. My father's grand father.
He was a bus driver in a tiny town in Nevada in the early 1930s. While turning a corner, something with the brakes malfunctioned and the bus went off a cliff into a ravine. Phyllis, who was in third grade, was caught under the bus, and had been scalped. Her side of the story is in the above article. My grandfather and Father have told me the side of James Alfred, though. His side is also inspiring and i wanted to share some snippets from it.


Phyllis mentions that her uncle, my great grandfather, prayed for divine help and then got a new fence post to lift the bus.
What she didn't say, was that that prayer was an urgent, plea for a miracle. Alfred wasn't strong enough to pull that fence post out of the ground. I've seen my dad put those kind of fence posts in the ground, and it's extremely hard work. The posts are probably 6-7 feet tall, but 2 of those feet are buried firmly in the ground. Alfred told the older boys that he was going to lift the post from the ground, shove one end under the bus, and then lean on the other side to lift up the bus, and when he did, that they should go under and carefully get Phyllis out. He waked over to the post, wrapped his arms around it and with what could only have been God given strength, he pulled the post out of the ground. Then with his bare hands he tore off the barbed wire still attached to the post, and carried the post to the bus. Alfred shoved one end under the bus, and again with what literally had to have been divine aid, lifted a school bus several feet off the ground, just enough for the older boys to get Phyllis.

I can only imagine the kind of faith required for such a feat.
and I can only imagine the relief that swept over Alfred to see his neice alive after such a horrible accident.
Phyllis' recovery and her rescue were absolutely miracles.

I love my family, and I'm so grateful to be part of such an incredible legacy. Also, Pahranagat Valley is full of angels. FULL of them. I've felt it. I love my family. and I'm eternally grateful for miracles.


My Grandpa was in first grade and on the bus when this happened. His dad was driving the bus. Phyllis Bishop is his cousin. He still remembers  that day, and tells the story with the highest respect for his father and with awe toward all that God can do.