yDate: Tue, 23 Dec 1997 22:32:30 -0700 From: Charlie Ford <cford@mindspring.com> To: type2@type2.com Subject: The Monumental Experience [This was delayed somewhat because Charlie managed to overshoot the 25K limit. If a picture paints a thousand words then one of Charlie's missives is bigger than a .gif file. 8) He says nobody has offered him a driveway to crash in in North Carolina, so fess up and write to him. --KH] I arrived at Ron Salmon's 'Bus Depot" in Perkiomenville on Tuesday two weeks ago. As I mentioned in my last post, I had been at John Britenbachs place in NYC and had gotten a little stir crazy from being sick and infirmed, so I decided to move on down the road. Better to be moving forward than standing still. Ron and his wife Evon asked me to come down and visit with them when I neared the area. I have gotten many invitations while on the trip and have tried to meet all I could. The first three days there I was still recuperating from my sickness and basically did nothing but hang around inside the house, cough my fool head off, and sleep. I did that for the next three days, finally emerging on Friday. On that day I went to Ron's parts store and helped him do some packaging and shipping. I must say I was very impressed with how many calls this man gets at The Bus Depot, and how many things he ships out to people around the country. The UPS man doesn't like him at all. Ron has built one heck of a business and one that has a lot of integrity I might add. I found that Ron himself is a good fellow, so is his wife Evon accept fellow wouldn't exactly work when describing Evon, well you get what I mean. They are of the Jewish faith and on Friday evening after Ron and I returned from the Depot, Evon prepared some really great Mahtsa Ball soup and then we seared some steaks in the oven. Seer may be a light term considering that we didn't have a broiler pan. The steaks got a little to close to the flame and when Evon opened the door to check them a live raging fire burst out of the stove. It was a case of backdraft for sure. As soon as she opened the door the air ignited the grease surrounding the meat and it looked like an inferno. Excitement was had by all and after getting it put out, we all laughed and turned off smoke alarms. An eventful meal too say the least, and delicious to boot. After that bit of excitement we settled down and began some serious grazing. They shared with me the Jewish prayers for the Sabbath which starts at sunset on Friday and ends at sunset on Saturday. I must say that was interesting. I have never been a part of any traditional Jewish ceremony, and I found it to be quite reverent and spiritual. I was impressed and moved. On Sunday Ron and I headed down to DC to Tom Forhans Christmas gathering. Tom is on the Vanagon list and each year he invites folks over to have some food and conversation. He and his family hosted about thirty people and about 10-12 busses. It was at this party that I met Mike Benthin who caravan down with Ron and myself. I also met Sean Bartnik and his girlfriend who's name I can't recall. Many others at the gathering had either heard about me because of what I was doing or they had been reading my post as I put them up. Everyone spoke VW and all enjoyed the fellowship no matter what the conversation was about. Good time. Thomas invited me to stay over at his place that night so I decided to do just that. After everyone had left I went out and set up my bus for camping and bedding down. Gus basically did his barking routine since he can't stand to be left alone without me. The problem is that when he goes into another new house and they have a dog, he just can't quit playing with the other dog. he tends to play rough. The puppy in him is still very evident. That night Tom and I enjoyed some really good political conversation, and by the way, worked out most all of the worlds problems in about two hours. Of course we can't remember any of the solutions we came up with, and since we didn't document them, they are lost until the next conversation we have. I know one thing, he is much more learned in the areas than I am. All I can do is give a basic opinion, Tom works for government so he is a bit more educated and knowledgeable of the matters. That is always the key to good conversational discussion. I finally retired myself to the bowels of the Mothership and lay down in my rack. I lay there and thought about the fact that I am now back in territory that is somewhat familiar. Everything south of here is "the south" and I know more about this region than I do any place else in America. The thoughts brought on feelings of discontent as well as feelings of accomplishment. 21,000 miles and counting down. I feel like I can remember each and every mile and each and every feeling I felt while driving that mile. I questioned as to whether the 'sense of adventure' would still be as present as it was in the more un-familiar territory. I questioned whether I would feel anxious and frustration over the next two or three weeks to when the finish finally comes. I wondered about what changes had actually happened in me over the past year. As I said before, I think most of that will edify itself in the reflection coming after the trip is over and done with. Right now I would just have to bide my time and try and keep myself reminded that it ain't over till the fat lady sings and I am pulling into my Mothers drive at 503 North Bell Street, Hazlehurst, Georgia. Sleep finally overtook those thoughts and I drifted off and most likely dreamed of things to come, only I can't remember it if I did. The next morning I was awake early. I lay there in bed and watched the sun rise through the bare leafless oak and pecan trees. DC is definitely a city of trees. Once again the thoughts that had been interrupted with sleep arose again. Once again I lay there in a solemn mood and muddled with the future, only to reconcile myself to trusting the powers that be and fulfilling this task for now. I would approach that situation when it was its turn. There is only so much muddling one can do before they become muddled out. I got out of the rack and prepared the Mothership to move to the next location. Steve Dolan had offered his parking spot to me for the next few days and I accepted. When Steve was in Seattle during his trip we made these arrangements. He is a helluva nice guy and one that is good to be around. He is one of the best conversationalist I have ever met, besides myself of course. hahahaha! I ended up staying at his place for the next four days or so. Until last Friday anyway. On last Tuesday I decided I would visit the Corporation for National Service, which is the Federal lead office for AmeriCorps. I had called a friend of mine named Bruce Cline who works at the Corporation, and set up an appointment to see him on that morning. As always Bruce was a pleasure to see. He is a fellow that works hard and smiles most of the time he is doing it. He loves to laugh and that is what I like so much about him. After visiting with him for about an hour, he told me that there were others that wanted to see me. This took me by surprise simply because I am a very outspoken advocate of National Service, and this year the program is apt to hit some political struggles unlike we have seen in years past. Because of this, I have been very active on the AmeriCorps listserv regarding what we needed to do as an organization to overcome the battles that will be waged against us. In DC, some like me, some don't. The first one I met with was Jim Eckstrom, the head of the Training and Technical assistance department. Since I am an AmeriCorps consultant/trainer he and I have something in common. We both work to develop the program in areas of concept, operations, and accountability. I have not always agreed with Jim, but we have always been able to talk honestly and discuss openly each others opinions. To be honest about half of the post I have put up on the AmeriCorps list have complained about the way his department does business. Not that they are so bad, but sometime I don't believe they are giving the programs what they need in order to do as good a job as they could. This time he didn't seem to disagree with me as much. In all honesty he sat and listened and then told me that I was needed in DC. He told me that I should apply for a position at The Corporation so that some of my enthusiasm could rub off on some of the more burned-out cynical employees. I tell you, it's something to consider. I am not sure I would want a permanent position up there, but it would be worth the experience ya know. While I was visiting with Jim I was given a copy of my contribution to the National Service Development effort. Here a while back I was asked to submit an article for the National Service Newsletter. they had heard that a couple of years ago I had written a workshop concerning "Group dynamics of a Corps Program. They wanted that writing. I gladly rolled it over to them and probably could have gotten paid for it, but I donated it instead. it was published and was such a hit that they made it a poster. This is the first written work I have ever had published and I must say it flattered the hell out of me. Idiot makes good! By this time I was floating on air and smiling like a mule eating briars through a picket fence. The next person I met with was Gina Fulbright Powell. She is a program officer for the southwest states program cluster. Colorado is included in that cluster and since I had done some training in that state a month or so ago she wanted me to fill her in on my take of where they stood programatically. I shared all that I knew and gave her an opinion on what might work to make things better. She and I will follow up as time goes by. The day at the Corporation went well. I walked away feeling a bit better and more secure than I had when I headed up there that morning. I felt better because I now knew I wasn't being drummed out of the field I love so much, for being so outspoken, and I knew that more folks liked me than hated me. That always makes a person feel good. I don't want them all to like me, I would never expect that, but I do want them to respect my opinion. As Voltaire said "I may not agree with what you say, but I will fight to the death to defend your right to say it!" Common respect is what I'm talking about. I took the subway then the bus back to Steve's house. That night Chris Chubb stopped by. Chris is the fellow that has helped me stop so well on this trip. One day around mid November of last year, right before I was to pull out and was in the thick of preparations, I was driving home and when I heard my brakes start to squeal and make awful noises of the severe type. I pulled into a Midas and they did there free assessment. They told me it would cost me roughly 300 bucks to fix. At the time it devastated me because I was preparing to leave and money was of the highest priority at the time. Remember all, when I left I only had $1200.00 to my name. I drove home from the Midas about to cry. This little setback expenditure would hurt me, and postpone my start date at least two weeks. I arrived at the house still trying to figure out how to overcome this dilemma. I went straight to my bedroom, sat down at my computer, and checked my E mail. the first message that came up was from Chris, it was to the entire group. The subject line read "Free set of Brake Rotors "79". In the body of the message it read, "First one to respond gets them". I replied back and he replied to my reply, "You got 'em". I was as happy as a lark singing in a choir. I sat there and thanked the deity I trust and believe in for the great amount of goodness he had blessed me with. Life had gotten better. Now all we had to do was work out how to get them from DC to me. I was scheduled to be in DC a couple weeks. I told Chris I would pick them up then and that would be that. When I got up there I had so much work to that I wasn't able to break free to go by Chris's to get them. I wrote him when I got back to Georgia and told him that I would try and find some at a junkyard, unless he could ship them too me, which was a bit much to ask since they were free in the first place. I left it at that. Chris was in the process of moving and to say the least, was busy from the word "go". I understood and just went on. About a week before I left on my trip, a couple days after I announced it on the list that I would be leaving 1/10 (my 40th birthday), Chris wrote me. He told me that I "needed those brake rotors". I told him that I really couldn't afford the shipping right now and he said "I will pay the shipping". I told him I couldn't ask him to do that, "he explained that it would be no problem and that one day I could repay the favor, besides it was Christmas". Chris is one heck of a guy, no doubt. There were so many miracles surrounding the coming of the Mothership, and now here was another to stack on the pile. I received them the next day via UPS. Anyway, he dropped by and He, Steve, and myself conversed for a long while and we also solved all the worlds problems, but once again did not document anything that was said. Damn I have got to start taking a pencil and paper around with me. That night Chris and I decided that we would do a bike ride around DC the next day. To be honest this is one of my favorite places for a couple of reasons; It is a great city to cycle in; The monuments are marvelous; and the Americana is inspirational. The Vietnam Memorial is my most favorite and meaningful. I am closest to that war that any other. Chris came over the next day and had to wake my butt up. I had slept so well and to top it all off I had slept until 12:00 noon. This was the first really good "crash" since the sickness had hit me. I must have needed it. We readied ourselves and pulled out of Steve's at about 1:30 PM. Steve lives on Commonwealth in Alexandria which is south of DC, so we had about 3-4 miles to ride before we would be in the thick of things. We headed out, picked up the Potomac Bike Trail and started to crank and spin. Man I love riding my bike, so much freedom, speed, and movement with just a minor amount of effort. You always feel good after a good trek, even if you are a fat guy that smokes. It only took us a little while to reach the "Hill". The first place we visited was the Jefferson Memorial. In visits before, when I thought of Thomas Jefferson, I would think of The Constitution, The Bill of Rights, and so many other documents he has quilled his name to. I saw him as a figure of stature and almost royalty, in an American sense of the word of course. This time I, for some reason or another, I saw him in a different light. I saw him as a plainer man. A man that had as many imperfections as he did perfection's. I stood there and read his writings etched into the marble walls of the monument. He was a thinker. I only wish that I could have memorized the etchings. Undoubtedly this was a man of very strong conviction. He also seemed to recognize that he was fallible and just human. I know that he was a farmer from Virginia and I also know that he is reputed to have had an affair with a young black slave that he owned on his plantation. I guess those two facts prove he was not perfect, but it certainly doesn't repute the fact that he was also a great thinker. I bet there were many nights when he lay in his bed and toiled over what exactly the rights of man should encompass in this new nation. I imagine he would lay there a while, get up, and retreat into his library and start putting his thoughts to paper. Only to rip that paper up and start all over again. I am equally sure that his affair with the young lady also brought many nights of turmoil and pondering. Both I am sure were taxing on the mind, one struggled with rights of all, and one struggle was one of man and woman, both were about love I believe. He was a romantic and a sentimental lion, if there is such a word. Where today we sit in front of our computers and time is sucked from us like a vacuum sucking up dust, he sat and as he wrote, time disappeared into the end of his quill and was then smeared across the pages that lay before him, so he could see it. I am equally sure that there were times he prayed for sleep to come and free him of his agony. Sleeplessness, the curse of the thinker. The curse of the writer. The curse of creator. A "curse" no one, who has ever felt it, would give up. We rode on after mulling over the words we read. We then went to the FDR Memorial. This Memorial is one of the newest in DC, and one of the most peaceful I might add. FDR was also a "thinker". He was the "New Deal" President for the post depression era. He implemented programs like the CCC in order to give Americans so familiar with poverty the opportunity to build a better life for themselves. America was depressed when FDR took office. Then the war came along and people became worried and depressed. Then it turned into a World War and FDR was still hanging in there trying to make this country as great as it could be. He said in one quote, I have seen war and I hate war. He also was a man of conviction. In the FDR Monument there was a section reserved for his wife Eleanor, who was probably the first First Lady to actively deserve the title bestowed upon her by her husband becoming president. She implemented programs and played a role in moving America to a better state of mind and progress. man what a team they were, although I hear they had some problems during there marriage as well. The FDR Monument speaks well of him. It is as I said "a very peaceful place". it is laid out so that as you enter along the walkway, you enter a courtyard to his first term as President. As you continue to walk you come to his second term and some statues and quotes from that era. All along the way through the four terms, the only president to do that, you are surrounded by ponds and water falls weaving their way throughout the monument. The water is relaxing to watch and hear. Chris and I stopped and spoke to an elderly Gentleman that looked as if he may have been alive during the FDR period. He said "yes he was" and that he had actually seen him one time. He said that FDR was in a parade that involved military tanks and such. He explained that as the parade came along one of the tanks quit running, holding up the entire parade, including FDR. They eventually pulled the tank out of the way and the parade moved on. He said that after that little event, the government started putting more money into the military. It was a good thing they did, war was on the horizon. While we stood there jets kept flying over and we couldn't hear all of what this gentleman, this veteran, had to say. I wished we could have spoken a bit longer. I bet this old "Joe" had some memories that he wouldn't mind sharing with someone. I thanked him as we left and we rode on. Chris and I of course discussed the value of the meeting after we remounted the bikes. We then dropped by the Korean Memorial for a minute ride through. In DC you can just move from one war memorial to the next. The Korean Conflict was one of those non-wars like Vietnam. The young fellows that died there got little recognition and were always placed more on the back burner for what they did. The one thing the monument stated was that the soldiers that fought there never got to meet the people they freed from the throws of communism, the mighty foe of that era. They just went, fought and died, and a few left, the conflict was as deadly, but not severe enough to be called War I don't reckon. We left there and went to the Vietnam Memorial. Each time I visit DC, since the first time, I come here. I guess because its the war I kind of grew up with. The War if my generation. it was a war that brought many truths out about our politicians. It made Americans take to the streets in protest. Kent State, Berkely, UCLA, and most every other college campus became areas of protest. Four kids died at Kent State. I remember as a kid seeing Dan Rather reporting on the Evening News with Walter Cronkite. He would be some place in Vietnam running footage of the war itself. In the background you would hear automatic weapon fire and grenade blast, and the sounds of big guns hurling 50mm shells into the lines of battle. Or maybe it was a hoax and all part of the propaganda war that was meant to be an assure that America was hard at the job of winning. The long arm of government reaching into the media. I don't think so, I think too much of Walter and Dan to think that. It would hurt me greatly to know they lied to us as bad as Nixon. If you were to compare the 60's with any other era in American history, I would have to say it would be the most changing era. The Jack Kerouac "Beat Generation" of the late 50's were probably the first sign of the changing, or growing pangs, America would see in the 60's. The search for 'freedom' and a further definition of the word was on the horizon and no one could stop it. Vietnam was the ploy of a bunch of 'already wealthy' politicians to get richer. They saw an opportunity to boost political clout and at the same time make a "fight for freedom" statement to the world. Whether that statement was needed or not, I don't know. I do know that each time I walk along that wall that is bunkered into the side of a grassy meadow, and see the names of all of those young men and women that died, it makes me tear up with all sorts of emotions. I think it may be the fact that I knew several that went over there. I knew one or two that didn't come back. I had family there and they all returned, but so many didn't. They are each one listed here on this "Black Wall". The folks listed were mostly young men of 18 or 19. They were black and white, and of all races. It is true that death shows no favor, nor does it discriminate on color, age, or gender. During the "Nam" era, activism was higher than it had been in the 1700's. Races were clashing, Mississippi was burning, Cuba was acting out, and JFK was being shot. Life was not good for those that wanted America to pull together. My grandfather sat and cried over the shape of his country one night. He wasn't a racist, or a war monger, and early on he figured out what the truth of Vietnam truly was. His concerns and opinions became mine and I am glad they did. Chris and I sat for a few and moved on, once again discussing the meaning of what we had just seen. Chris is a pretty good thinker and appears to be as rabidly patriotic as I am. I owe no allegiance to any man, but I owe "all" allegiance to maintaining the quality of my "free" country and its people. It is only my job and I strive to do it well. I do love it dearly. I guess I would have gone to the 'Nam' if I would have thought it meant preserving my and your freedoms, I'd say Chris would have as well. We rolled on along to the Capitol, riding along the mall and past the Washington Monument. The Washington Monument was started before the civil war. It stands some 500 foot tall and if you look closely you can see the first attempt at building it. The stone from bottom to about one third of the way up are darker colored than the upper two thirds. This is because of the Civil war. Lincoln made an executive order to have the monument completion postponed until America was once again living in harmony, so to speak. Personally, I agree with Chris in that it has about as little to do with honoring George Washington as does a Cherry Tree. The fact is that it houses no museum of his life or anything else. Pretty much it is just a tower that sits in the middle of the mall in front of the White House, and between the Capitol and the Lincoln Memorial. You can go the top and look around, so that makes it about as close to a thrill ride as your going to get in DC. We rode on up the mall and around the Capitol. We stopped and spoke a few with a Capitol Building Police Officer. He informed us of all the freaky people that try and deface the building itself. He told us that every now and then someone will stroll up and try to paint graffiti on a wall or try and throw paint on the side of the building. He said the strangest one was where an environmental group drove up in a dump truck and dumped a load of coal on the parking lot, then drove away. I had to laugh at that one. Pretty peaceful protest I guess except for the fact that somebody might need that coal this winter. I'd hate to know that some kid froze because I wasted one load of coal that could have kept them warm. Chris and I headed back down the mall toward the White House in all it's glory. Now I am a city cyclist. I think in another life I was a courier in NYC. I love to ride my bike in urban areas. I don't mind riding in traffic and weaving my way quickly through the maze of blocks and cars and people is a thrill and a half. I think I am safe, but I guess at times like others that enjoy this style of biking, appear to be totally the opposite and out of control. Chris is a trail rider, and preferred the walkways and dirt roads through the Mall. I would hit a street in a heartbeat and motor right along. One time in my "rush hour" muse I pulled into the street and the light changed. I slammed my brakes and pulled back to the sidewalk. Chris stood there shaking his head and saying "Man, you're gonna kill yourself". I just smiled and laughed it off. 'Death deny me thy wrath and just let me ride like the wind one more time simply because I love it so much. We arrived at the side of the White House facing the Washington Monument. We stood right at the Zero Mile Marker. This is where all of the mileage in America calls home. Every distance measure originates from this point. This is Zero. When you are here, you are at home base. We looked over at the "House" and saw Santa standing on the lawn. We started laughing a bit about this speculating that Santa was out on the lawn toking a Cigarette and getting him a little snort so that he could once again face all the dignitaries who had brought there kids to see him because Bill had invited them. I am sure you would be promising out some pretty expensive toys for these Tots at a visit with Santa at the White House. Yep, he was probably belting him a snort or two. We rode around front then headed back toward the trail that would take us back to Steve's place. We rode faster on the way back and made it in a shorter amount of time than we had that morning. For some reason though distances all seem shorter after you have traveled them once. Just an observation, or may be a phenomena. : ) After arriving back we all went out for dinner. We found ourselves a "killer buffet restaurant". One of those where calories, fat, or diet are words in your vocabulary. You have eating on your mind and that is that. Nothing else but "pigging out will do". You eat until you are sick and tired of eating. I think that every now and then these type places are good for the soul. I did my best to break my last record. Food tasted "Just like mama used to try to make". The next day we all once again gathered at Steve's. He had a roof rack for The Mothership that he said I could have, and we took my old one off and put the new one on. He has a westy and this is made for a solid roof bus. It looks damn good up there and is a lot lighter than what I had prior. My roof rack has gone through several changing since I have been on this trip. I may have to dedicate one post to those changes, there have been so many. Chris took my old one to mount on his bus. I left Steve's the next day (this past Friday) and headed down to Virginia where I am at the time of this writing. Life is good, I have some promise of re-entering the work world after the trip is over with the advent of the positive meeting I had at the Corporation. I have seen, and been inspired by what the monuments say in DC. Greatness is always possible in America, and common people can achieve it as easily as the un-common, all it takes is a bit of hard work; You can die if you go to war; and, There are some things worth dying for. I have made new friends and re-kindled some old ones. I leave with a little better attitude than I arrived with. I am still wondering what getting home will be like, but life is good. I just have to deal with it like it is just another adventure. The trip may end but the journey will go on much longer. Thanks for tolerating the ramblings. Charlie Ford "79" Transporter, dressed for the road The Mothership The"Turning 40 Nostalgic VW Service Tour, and Search for the Beginning of Wind". http://www.slurpee.net/~keen/charlie/charlie.html "Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set" ------------------------------------------------------------------------- To leave the list, send an UNSUBSCRIBE message to TYPE2-REQUEST@TYPE2.COM -------------------------------------------------------------------------