After his death on March 20, 1994 a series of previously published articles by Lewis Grizzard during his journalism career and syndicated columnist in 475 national syndicated newspapers were combined in a Commemorative Edition titled “The Last Bus to Albequerque” (1994 Longstreet Press).
Based on an article following his fourth aortic valve replacements (3 pig and 1 mechanical) its title allegedly comes from the last words LG spoke about his final destination before being wheeled into the operating room for the last time.
During his 47 years of life and over 35 years as a writer LG several times spoke of the religious beliefs and experiences of numerous family members, friends, and acquaintances but published very little on his own feelings about prayer as a miracle drug,
In a May 1993 article he removed that deficiency:
“All those learned men and women of medicine with the eye charts on the end of their names said basically the same thing to me once I had emerged from wherever God puts your mind while people are trying to save your life in a hospital.
They said it was a miracle I had lived from what were the most complicated of complications that arose during what was supposed to have been a fairly routine heart valve replacement surgery at Emory University Hospital six weeks ago.
All I know is what I read in the papers later and what friends and these medical people told me. But it does seem I spent days sticking one foot in and out of death's door.
To a man and woman, those doctors and nurses said to me after the critical time had passed, "We exhausted all medical possibilities. We did everything we knew to do for you, and it probably wouldn't have been enough. What saved you was prayer."
Can you believe that? Great men and women of science saying such a thing in 1993? Prayer? Surely not. It had to be some new miracle drug developed by researchers at Harvard. It had to be one of those cardiac pumps they said they attached to my heart when it just up and decided not to beat any more.
No, they said, it was prayer.
One doctor explained, "Everywhere I went during your worst time, I ran into people who said they were praying for you. One woman said, 'I don't agree with anything he writes, but I'm still praying for him.' A friend said his church held a special prayer service for you. You had a lot of people asking that you be spared."
What I did to deserve any of that, I don't know; but I do know I'd spent a lot of time in my life doubting. At one time or the other, I doubted it all - spirituality, love, the basic goodness of humankind.
But this flirtation with the end of me has removed a lot of that doubt.
If the medical experts say prayer brought me back from certain death, who am I to doubt them and prayer only works if there is someone or something to and pre favor asked. My faith and belief in that son to grant something not only has been restored but it has been forevermore cast in my soul as the great truth beyond all others.
But now comes the hard part. I owe a lot of thank-yous. I must thank those who are responsible for the fact I'm still amongst the quick. The Emory doctors and nurses know how I feel about them. They are the best of the best.
But what do I do about the prayerful? Say simply, "Hey, everybody who prayed for me, thanks"? It's got to be more profound than that. I snatched away a new life.
I have been to the other side of the veil and came back from behind it. I received the reprieve at the midnight hour. I made the dawn once more and it was bright and beckoned with the promise I could finish the unfinished and fulfill the unfulfilled.
Here is what I would like to do: I would like to gather in the parking lot of Atlanta Stadium all who lifted a voice when I stood in need of it so badly and, one by one, I would like to hug them around the neck and say, "I love you and I thank you for my life."
It would be difficult with my history of gentle criticism of Atlanta's city government to get a permit for such a thing, and palm-greasing isn't my style.
So, I suppose I am left with only one recourse. And that is to pray, myself, and ask, "Lord, you know who you heard from in my behalf. Please let them know there is no end to my gratitude." And, for the record, even if you didn't pray for me, it's nice to be with you again, too.
To be honest, it's just nice to be.”
(Modern day pharmaceutical companies continue to develop lifesaving drugs in 2023 but the longevity and effectiveness of the miracle drug administered to LG to prolong his life is eternal.)
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You can reach Jerry Summers at jsummers@summersfirm.com
Jerry Summers