“Ring! Ring!” The telephone in the office stopped ringing as Carolyn answered it.

She thought her heart would stop.

“No! How is he?” she gasped.

The caller assured her that Delton was alive, conscious, and talking. “He’s being flown to Springfield by air vac.”

She could not say later how she hung up the phone or told the others. But in minutes Elton, Carolyn, and their oldest daughter JoLynn were on their way to the hospital.

The emergency room lights flashed glaringly as they arrived. In contrast, Delton lay deathly pale, covered with a sheet. They could not see how serious his injuries were.

“Remember Jesus loves you, and pray,” Carolyn whispered.

“I know,” Delton answered hoarsely through his oxygen mask. “And I am.”

They each kissed his dirt-streaked face and then he was wheeled away to surgery. There was nothing to do but wait out the uncertain hours with prayer. “Lord guide the surgeons. Your will be done.”

The prognosis was grim from the three surgeons on the trauma team. They knew that time was very crucial. The truck had driven over Delton’s midsection, causing massive internal injuries. Severe road burns and lacerations covered his body. He was hemorrhaging badly due to many torn and exposed veins.

The surgeons did not expect him to live very long. “Nothing less than a miracle will pull him through,” one remarked.

They did not know that Delton was now encircled with a powerful strength . . . the strength of prayer. As members of the Ozark Mennonite Church received the phone call about Delton, they became a vital prayer force. Other churches joined in. Every earthly factor seemed against Delton. But prayers were ascending for him.

Several agonizing hours elapsed. Dr. Moffe finally appeared in the waiting room.

“Delton is still with us,” he spoke cautiously. “But he’s not doing too well.” He explained the extent of the injuries his team had found.

“At this point Delton is not even retaining fluids. They are seeping through his pores, through every incision and needle prick. He’s been given 25 units of blood so far. All I can say is that Delton is young, strong, and a fighter.”

Two hours later, his wounds sewn up, Delton was placed in the Trauma Intensive Care Unit.

Around 8:00 p.m. Elton and Carolyn were finally permitted to go in to see him. Even though the nurses tried to prepare them, they were shocked at the change in their son, his head had swollen to the size of a basketball and almost beyond recognition. His body swelled to about 300 pounds, almost doubling his normal weight, due to the fluids they pumped into him to keep his blood pressure up. Six pins held his broken pelvic bones in place. His internal bleeding had been stemmed somewhat, but he was still losing blood faster than it could be pumped into him. Three nurses worked on him constantly. It took one nurse to drain the blood tubes, one to pump fluid into him, and another to write everything down.

Delton was conscious and could squeeze their hands. He also nodded his head in answer to their questions. “Yes, I’m ready to go.”

Elton and Carolyn wondered if there would ever be any hope among the grim reports the doctors kept bringing.

“It’s literally a race with death, Mr. and Mrs. Kropf,” the doctor told them. “His heart rate is twice the normal. His lungs could collapse. His kidneys could fail.”

“If he comes through this, he’s got a long road ahead. It’s doubtful he’ll ever be able to walk again.”