The Human Family Reunion September 10

The Human Family Reunion September 10

It’s 9-11 Eve and the antidote to terrorism is gathered in this room. Christian, Jew and Muslim. Black, brown and white. Inner city and suburb.

Bronia Roslawowski survived the Holocaust and lives now to teach all who will hear that she loves everybody and hates no one, not even the Nazis who killed all her family.

Yahya Furqan survived combat in Vietnam and carries in his body graphic evidence of his near fatal wounds. As a Muslim Imam he teaches from the Quran the ways of peace and love for all mankind.

Richard Maraj is here in spirit and in word brought by a friend. Richard is a warm and magnetic soul, born in Trinidad, now a Canadian citizen and pastor of Christ Church Unity where we meet tonight. Because his ancestry goes back to the Middle East, our government has told him he must leave the country while his loyalties are determined.

Walt Bodine wanted to be here. He called shortly before we gathered to say he was ill and could not come. Stretching back decades Walt has over radio and TV reminded us all that there is good among us and has sent us in pursuit.

Jewel and Mattie Cornelius had planned to come until Mattie’s beloved sister died and Mattie for a time is overcome with grief.

The others of us have come tonight to celebrate the life and work of these dear people. Brother John and Mom McFarlane are here to lead us in song.

All of us have brought our favorite foods to share. Members of the church have decorated the room and make us welcome and wait on our every need.

For two hours on this night before the second anniversary of 9-11, the 150 of us gathered here exude such love and acceptance that were it bottled and distributed around the world we all would instantly become World Class Persons, able to go anywhere at any time and talk to anyone about anything and feel safe.

If only some of the media we invited had come perhaps the process of becoming World Class might have been helped along. But nothing can discourage us.

Scenery on a Detour Miles 7500-7515 September 11-20

If the really happy man is the one who enjoys the scenery on a detour, it must be because he knows that people and places are not to be compared. Each is its own standard. Each contains beauty if seen without comparison to another. Any road he travels thus becomes the right road for him at that moment and each person he meets becomes the most important person in his life for the duration of their short time together.

Our California trip is a detour. Greater Liberty on my bicycle has been my goal this year. Through our cold winter and hot summer I have managed 7500 miles. Now cool fall weather has come with an ideal riding environment. But I am mentally and physically spent. Our Human Family Reunion last night exceeded even my own lofty expectations. I love these evenings when people of all colors, cultures and creeds come to eat together and relax in one another’s presence. As much as I love them, they leave me exhausted. Months of planning and preparation and the building of great expectations. Then we all come. And for two and a half hours a bubble descends and shuts us off from the world. We are Brigadoon and Camelot. Don Quixote, King Arthur and Jean Val Jean sit at table with us. Then the bubble lifts and we go our separate ways. And I am exhausted.

When I make it to mile 7500 by early September, I am reasonably certain that I can ride the promised 10,000 before December 31^st comes. I’m less certain by the day, though, that I will raise the combined $110,000 I set as my goal. Slightly less than $15,000 has come in so far. Whether it’s the physical exhaustion of riding or the mental exhaustion of failing my fund, I am by September so tired that I must forget it all and get away. So early on the morning following our Human Family Reunion, Bobbie and I board a plane bound for California and time with friends and trips to Yosemite National Park and beautiful Monterrey Bay and a drive down Highway 1.

What better way to simultaneously negate terrorism and commemorate 9-11 victims than to book a flight every anniversary date. Even if you have no place to go. If ever that hackneyed philosophical phrase—the journey is the destination—were true, it could never be more so than on the day terrorists chose to make us fear flying. If suddenly flying were to spike every year on 9-11, terrorists everywhere would know that their plan had boomeranged and they had produced exactly the opposite response and mind set to that which they intended.

So on this second anniversary of the World Trade Center and Pentagon attacks, Bobbie and I are at KCI early to catch a flight to San Francisco. Over the PA system at 7:46 comes an announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen, not only here in the U.S. but world-wide, people are standing for one minute of silence to honor those who died on 9-11. Would all of those who wish to participate, please stand for one minute of silence?” When the minute has passed: “Thank you. And God bless everyone.”

Bobbie and I rent bikes and ride five miles along the valley floor in Yosemite National Park. Chris Henson joined the Jewell faculty after I had left. She and I now hold our Human Family Reunions every April on campus. Chris bought miles 7500-7505 and rides with us in spirit today. Wow! Chris, you know how to pick ‘em. Could any place on earth be more beautiful or any weather more comfortable?

Doc, Mack and the boys never lived. The Western Biological Laboratories and the Palace Flophouse were not real. But Cannery Row came alive through them and made John Steinbeck famous. No fish are canned here now. The harvest now is tourists. By the millions we come to find the vacant lot, Dora’s Red Bear Restaurant, Lee Chong’s Grocery and the other places we know from reading Steinbeck’s Cannery Row.

At a place called Adventures by the Sea Bobbie and I acquire bicycles and helmets for an hour or so on two occasions for leisurely excursions along magnificent bike paths by the sea. Cannery Row, Of Mice and Men, Tortilla Flat and a collection of Steinbeck’s short stories we have read and brought with us on this trip. The power of Steinbeck’s stories of Monterrey Bay, the Salinas Valley and Cannery Row have drawn us here and direct our coming and going for the duration of our visit.

Steinbeck’s unadorned and sympathetic treatment of the down-and-out won for him the Nobel Prize for Literature and won for this place an undying affection in the hearts of those who read in all corners of the world.

On our bikes Bobbie and I come in a town called Pacific Grove to a place called Lover’s Point. Out on the beach we spot a bench covered in flowers. When we go to look we find this name and these dates carved into the back: Suzzane Marie Calley 9-17-57 9-11-01. Notes from Suzzane’s students and parents are taped to the bench. She was at the World Trade Center that day.