Profile On: Zach Cruse - The Bunk Beds

It was around 9:30 p.m., the show they were watching had just gone off, and it was time to go to sleep.  That’s when bedtime became playtime for Cruse and his brother.

The two boys, Cruse, who was about nine, and his brother Taylor Cruse, was about five, backed up to the corner of their living room, between the couch and the kitchen, and took off, racing to the other end of the house where their bedroom was located.

It was a competition, one they had participated in before, but races between the two siblings were serious business. 

At the time, the Cruse brothers had bunk beds made out of red steel tubing sections put together. The endgame of the race was to launch their selves onto the bottom bunk, reaching the bed first.

That was the plan until Zach Cruse jumped a little too high. 

Instead of landing on the soft mattress of his bed, he ran into the bottom part of the top bunk head-first.  Instead of a dive into comfort, he dove into steel bar. 

Both Cruse brothers say that he jumped too high, and hit the top bunk by accident.  The force of the blow caused Cruse to be knocked unconscious for a few minutes.

“When I came to, I was lying on my back on our bedroom floor.  Taylor was standing over me, and I reached for my head, to feel it where I hit, and it was wet.  I looked at my fingers and they were covered in blood.”

Cruse was numb from the pain.  He couldn’t really feel anything.  The only thing he felt was anger at Taylor.  He said it wasn’t reasonable, he just knew he was scared and he was mad at this brother. 

Cruse ran out of the room crying, heading straight for his parent’s bedroom.  His mother was on the phone, talking to his grandma. 

According to Cruse, when she looked over and saw him standing there, she said, “Oh my gosh! Zach’s bleeding, I’ve got to go!”  She hung up the phone and picked him up, running to the garage to put him in the van.  She called his grandma before they left, and went to the hospital.

“It was a big ordeal, and I had to get stitches,” Cruse said.  “I remember the next few weeks I would walk around with my eyes crossed, pretending to be Frankenstein, because I had the big stitches right across my forehead.”

Profile On: Zach Cruse - Building an Interest

“Star Wars changed my life,” Cruse said.

It began with a project that his friend sent him a link to.  The guy knew Cruse loved Star Wars, so he sent him a link to a website that discussed how to make lightsabers. 

That’s how it started.  He made lightsaber handles, and with each one he made, he would use different material to keep making it better.   He would research what materials to use and how to use them.

One day, when Cruse was about 15, he was browsing the Internet, and he saw a picture of a Master Chief helmet that was made of paper.  The Master Chief character is from the video game Halo, a game that Cruse enjoyed playing.  The paper helmet sparked an interest, so he decided to Google search the print out for making one of the helmets.

His first print out guide was two sizes to large, so he printed it out again.  The project intrigued him.  He saw what other people could do with the paper helmets, and knew he could do a better job.  It was a challenge.

After Cruse finished cutting, folding and shaping the paper helmet, he decided he didn’t like the look as much.  The shapes were blocky, and the parts of the helmet that were supposed to be smooth weren’t because of using flat paper.  Cruse wasn’t satisfied with that.  He decided to detail the project.

Cruse covered the entire helmet in sheets of plastic and auto body filler called Bondo.  He smoothed everything over to the right shape.  The sanding of all the hard and angular lines took a great deal of time.  Cruse spent about four to five hours a day on his project, for about three months before he finished.  Once he did smooth the helmet, that’s when he painted it.

The project was the first time he ever worked with electronics as well.  The character in the game had four small lights on either side of the helmet.  So to make it realistic, Cruse did the same.  He bought four LED lights with built-in resistors and wired them to batteries, before arranging them in the helmet.

“I consulted with my dad a lot,” Cruse said.  “I would ask him his opinions on building materials and how my plans would turn out.”

Cruse worked in his garage, on a workbench across from the garage door.  That’s where he would use the auto body filler, fiberglass resin and cans of spray paint.  His planning work took place in his kitchen, at the bar. 

He would spend time hunched over the bar, with a piece of his plans scattered to the right, and everything else sweeping out from that point across the surface.  He would tinker with this paper, and then move onto the next.  His tools and methodology were a bit haphazard, unorganized and scattered.  But that’s how he liked to work.

When Cruse finished his helmet, he posted it, like his other work, on the online community.  Cruse said they had an entire website devoted to the paper helmets. 

“The most anyone else had ever done at that point with the helmets was use auto body filler on them, but they would just essentially cover the helmets and sand it down a little bit,” Cruse said. 

The attention to detail on Cruse’s helmet was pretty high.  The response he received from the online users was more than Cruse expected.  He was the first person to take the craftsmanship to another level, and show that much detail and commitment to making the prop better.

After he displayed his helmet, showing his friends and family, he decided to post in on eBay. 

“I sold it for $350.”

The Master Chief helmet was one of the first projects that spurned Cruse on, pushing him to continue challenging himself.  By using electronics for the first time, it began his love affair with putting lighting and wiring in other projects, including building an LED light-up arc reactor from the movie Iron Man, and refurbishing an Xbox in the style of the Iron Man movie.

Through Star Wars Cruse found his love recreating props, and through his Master Chief helmet project, he realized he was phenomenal at it.  So did everyone else.

Profile On: Zach Cruse - The Meet-Cute

In February of this year, Zach Cruse had just come out of a stressful on again off again relationship with his previous girlfriend.  The relationship was a rollercoaster, and the hills and turns had Cruse shaken and disillusioned with relationships in general.  He was over the angst and the anxiety, and was ready to move on and put the whole ordeal behind him.

That was the plan at least, until a local church lock-in happened.

Cruse was in the process of repairing his friendship with his ex-girlfriend, so when she invited him, he said yes to attending their mutual friend’s church lock-in.  He was hoping to gain back civility and erase some of the awkwardness that had appeared between the two.

At the lock-in, the youth group banded together on teams to play broomball, which is a sport that Cruse says is essentially, “hockey, but you wear shoes instead of ice skates, and you hit a ball instead of a puck.”

Indiana’s temperature in February ranges from chilly to down right frigid.  That particular night was cold, although not bitterly so.  The ice rink was alive with chatter and laughter, which helped to keep the chill at bay.

Running on a large sheet of ice in tennis shoes is not one of the easiest activities to participate in.  It took a large amount of energy, and with each breath, the chill made your lungs tingle.  

After playing for a few hours, Cruse decided to take a break.  He felt dehydrated, and slightly sick, so he went to the small and kind of ancient looking concession stand to order a PowerAde. 

As he came back to the rink, he noticed a girl sitting by herself, watching the others slap the ball back and forth and clumsily run across the ice.

He knew her name was Jessica, not because he’d talked to her any, but because Lauren, the mutual friend, had talked about her before.  He slid onto the bench next to her, and she glanced over at him.

“Hi,” he said.  “Having fun?”

She smiled and answered, and from there they chatted for a few minutes about inconsequential things.  He asked if she wanted to take a drink of his orange PowerAde, and then he went back out onto the ice.  “Huh,” he thought to himself.  “She was nice, and kind of cute.”

Broomball continued, neither side ever really winning.  Cruse stayed with his friends, joking around and talking with his ex-girlfriend, trying to achieve his goal of patching things up.  As the night went on, Cruse got even more fatigued, while everyone else hit their second-wind.

The group moved into the sanctuary, when Cruse noticed Jessica again.  He spotted her curled up in a pew, sitting by herself, hugging a pillow and yawning wildly.  She was bundled up in Franklin College sweats, and her sweatshirt two sizes too big. 

For two hours they talked about everything.  Star Wars, Death Cab for Cutie, Star Trek and the Beatles.  They talked about college: her hopes that undergrad would be better than high school, his insisting that it wouldn’t be.  He talked about being homeschooled, his teachers and his projects.  She talked about her love of music.

About halfway through their conversation, Cruse though, “I wonder is she would ever want to hang out sometime?”  He was intrigued and a little bit curious about her.

Eventually the group moved out of the sanctuary, and by then, Cruse and his friends left the lock-in.  He had work early the next morning.

He didn’t get to say goodbye

Profile On: Zach Cruse - Worship Your Face Off

Cruse’s father, Clay Cruse, the youth minister and Terry Waggoner, the worship minister at his church, created a youth worship experience called WYFO, or Worship Your Face Off. 

Cruse invited me to observe their service and how the youth group interacted with each other.  His family is involved in the fundamentals and creation of the youth programs at Franklin Church of Christ, and their delivery.

We walked in and the first thing I noticed was the amount of people that Cruse talked to on the way into the sanctuary.  The congregation knew him, not only on a shallow, acquaintance level, but deeply and personally.

“Hey, Terry!” Cruse said, slinging his arm around the taller man’s shoulders and walking towards the sanctuary. 

The two guys had a brief conversation, but the connection was there.  Cruse was at home in the church and his face only became brighter with the people he ran into.

Once we entered the sanctuary where the other teens congregated, a few members of the grew immediately said hello.  Cruse was a little late, but the service hadn’t started yet.  A few minutes later, Clay Cruse hopped up on the stage and said, “Are you all ready to worship your faces off!”

That started the music.  The booming bass fell over the crowd and the lights were shut off.  The sanctuary was dark, but the group was bright and alive, Cruse being one of the brightest.  He was at ease and comfortable, nodding his head and swaying to the beat.  Every now and then I could hear him singing along to the songs.

His younger brother Matt came up beside him, and they joked around while the music was still playing.  His love for worship and his family combined into one.

“Do you like it so far?” Cruse asked me, still nodding to the beat.

“Yeah,” I said.  “I’m having fun.”

If anything, his smile grew wider.  You could tell he wanted people to share in his love of church.

“Good,” he grinned.

The music picked up and a faster, more energetic song began beating out of the speakers.  The band was in full swing and so was the youth group.   The lyrics were catchy and Cruse began bouncing on his heels.  When the word “run” was emphasized in the song, the  group took off.

One by one the students bolted from the mass huddled at the foot of the stage.

“Do you want to run?” Cruse asked me.

After that he took off.  The energy in the room was palpable.  Everyone was excited and pumped for the lesson to come.  Cruse came back to the group even more exuberant than before.  He was in his house of God and loving every minute of it.

The "Non-Date" Update

If anyone has read my blog regarding my wonderful "Non-Date" experience, I thought that it might be a good idea to do an update.

My "Non-Date" date, Zach Cruse, is now my boyfriend, and thanks to my amazing best friend Lauren, we're pretty much ecstatically happy together.  Cliche as it may be, it's definitely thanks to her.  Momma Lauren got it perfectly right, and her "love-tinglies" deserve all of the credit.  So to her, I say, thanks for caring enough to want me to be happy, and for setting me up with someone so amazing.  And to Zach, I say, thanks for being awesome, and not a creeper.  I would have felt bad if I had to use my pink can of pepper spray that night.

As for my prom date disaster, prom was really fun, but the date part didn't last.  That interest fizzled and died, and I think his interest in me fizzled sooner than I thought, or maybe wanted.

I think that everything happens for a reason, and that I've been extremely blessed to have a friend that truly cares and a boyfriend that exceeds any expectation I may have ever had for a relationship.  So to God, I pray thanks for the blessings You have bestowed upon me, and for the amazing people You have put in my life.

A Scene in My Life: The "Non-Date"

It was the end of June and the heat had anyone who stepped outside sweaty, red faced and sticky within minutes.  My air conditioner was broke, I was working seven and a half hours every day and I was more concerned with how I was going to pay for my mission trip to Arizona that ran at about $400 and how much a new A/C air compressor was going to hit my already feeble bank account.  For the first time since I was 15, dating was the last thing on my mind.

My best friend, a perky, tall blond, that always had her hair in a ponytail, and when she walked, it bounced.  Her bouncy ponytail described her personality to a tee.  She could be a bit pushy, and she always wanted her friends to be ecstatically happy.  As for me, she decided ecstatically happy would only come if I were seriously dating a good Christian boy that Momma Lauren would approve of.

After a disastrous prom date setup, I had pretty much lost all confidence in Lauren, so when she texted me that someone was interested, I rolled my eyes and calmly replied, “Really? Who?”  The text back was “Zach! Zach Cruse! Remember him from the lock-in?”

After that qualifier, “from the lock-in,” it hit me.  Zach was the guy I had talked to at 2 a.m.  I was running on very little sleep, and everyone else had been ridiculously hyper, but Zach and I weren’t.  We wound up talking for three hours about nothing specific; music, our love/hate relationship with Death Cab for Cutie, movies, our die-hard love affair with Star Wars and our disagreement on William Shatner Star Trek or the absolutely horrible (in my opinion) Next Generation.  That random conversation was what stuck out to me.  I couldn’t really remember details about what he looked like, so I did what any other curious 19 year old female would do: I Facebook stalked his pictures and scoped out his friends.

Zach seemed like an interesting guy, so I gave Lauren the thumbs up and the go ahead.  She gave him my number.  I think I was more worried about her forcing him to text me than if we would actually like me or not, and yes, she had forced texting on a guy before.  The prom fiasco was still vivid in my mind.

The first text came on July 1.  I was at work, sneaking my cell phone from my purse when I knew my boss wasn’t around. He was at his Grandma’s.  For five straight days I woke to a text and fell asleep to a text.  SMS messaging was the new pilot light for relationships in my life.  We clicked immediately, and I knew I wanted to see where we could go.

Five days later, Zach and I had our first “non-date.”  I agonized over what to wear. I still didn’t have my air fixed yet, and at a humid 95 degrees outside, I was worried I would show up at the bowling alley with melted make-up, sweat-stains under my arm pits and crazy hair that would make me seem like a Scary Spice Girl wannabe.  I was running late, per usual, and I was already nervous.  Dating wasn’t something I did very much in high school.  In all actuality, I hadn’t dated in two and a half years.  I got to the bowling alley and there he was.  He looked fairly harmless.  I was pretty for sure I could take him down if I needed to.  And then he smiled, and said hey, and I forgot about my little pink pepper spray bottle in my purse.  I smiled back, we bought two games of bowling, and immediately started conversation. 

It was like we had been friends for years before then.  We talked about church, our friends, school, and anything else that popped into our heads.  He made fun of my little dance moves after I tossed my bowling ball down the alley.  He laughed at the thud it made when I accidently lofted it.

The night wasn’t all about bowling though, it was about finding my way back to being social, to saying hey, I’m capable of going out on a “non-date” and surviving.  It was a liberating thought.  And I got a bonus out of the entire experience.

“Huh,” I thought to myself.  “I really like this one.”

A Scene in My Life: On Graduation Day

The first thing that ever stuck out to me about graduation day was my shoes.  I absolutely loved my dress.  It was white, to go under our white gowns, and it was perfectly cut to fit correctly in all the right places.  My hair looked good, for once, and I put in a little pearl clip to help hold my hair in place. 

The oddball to my entire outfit ensemble was the shoes though.  They were on loan from my mother because they were the only pair of white shoes that were sophisticated enough for graduation and fit to the point that they wouldn’t fly off when I attempted to walk.  The problem with these shoes was that they were white, but they weren’t a perfect white.  The color was off so slightly that you could just make out the difference.  To a perfectionist that slight difference was enough to drive me mad.  They were my only option, so I had to go with them, but I thought to myself, “This doesn’t bode well for the rest of graduation.”

The drive to my high school was hot and sticky.  I was in a hurry and I was nervous.  I was one of the first people to be walking in to the traditional graduation fanfare, and I was scared out of my mind that I would fall and trip over my stupid off-white shoes and slow down the entire procession.  It was a common fear among my classmates, but they were lucky enough to not have my sense of balance and coordination.  My fear was a legitimate one.

As I was rushing around to get into place I felt very disjointed from the celebrations going on around me.  I was still unbelievably nervous, but I no longer felt the gripping anxiety.  I smiled and took pictures with some of my good high school friends.  I smiled and took pictures with people I had talked to all of five times throughout high school.  The entire time I kept thinking, “I am not going to miss this place at all, or these people.”

Finally, it was time to take my place in line.  As a member of the top ten, I was able to sit in the front row, and I would be one of the first to receive my diplomas.  I was excited about this because it meant I could space out and daydream about going to dinner with my parents and stepbrother to my favorite restaurant.  I was ecstatic my stepbrother had made it, and I wanted to spend time with my family.  The ceremony felt like a formality.

Our row stood up and moved to the stage.  I felt my breath catch in my throat and my nerves came back full-force.  Although I felt fairly detached from the importance of the ceremony, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of my family by tripping.  When my name was called, I took a deep breath and put one ugly shoe in front of the other, shook the hand of a school board member I didn’t particularly know, grasped my diploma, smiled and headed off the stage at a quick pace.  It was finally over.

The real highlight came when walking by the teacher section after receiving my diploma.  The moment I would never forget is my past instructors standing up to give me a hug as I walked by.

My newspaper adviser, as odd and funny as he is, stood up with a wide smile on his face, shook my hand, and said congratulations with more enthusiasm than I ever heard him use outside of discussing NPR. 

My advanced placement English literature teacher stood up and gave me a big hug.  She whispered, “Congratulations, JWray,” into my ear, and patted me on the shoulder as I drew away.

It was those two instances that made me value that graduation ceremony.  Aside from the fact that my family was there to see me, those two teachers made me realize that although I wouldn’t really miss my peers, or the academics, I would miss the people that I had come to know as my instructors.  The lessons and the values I was taught in and out of the classroom would be the building blocks I’d take with me to college.

That handshake and hug were my graduation ceremony.  The diploma, that I worked so hard to get, is lying at the bottom of a box somewhere right now.  What my instructors taught are still with me today.