America at the Crossroads

Page 3

Tuesday, May 19

William is a cousin to my good friend Elizabeth. He's a retired music teacher from The University of Tennessee at Knoxville and still lives near campus. We talked of music (mostly jazz), the economy (his retirement account has taken a hit), solid-state versus tube amplifiers (and where to buy tubes), and how he bought his home back in 1975. He plays saxophone in various groups, mainly KJO - Knoxville Jazz Orchestra. Gigs have grown less frequent, but combined with Social Security and his reduced retirement money, he and his wife Rebecca seem to be getting along just fine.

So far, I've not contracted Swine Flu or been bitten by bed bugs. More likely to be taken out by a big rig -- lot's of big rigs on the road. And me in my little Hyundai Accent. One driver, I saw at a rest stop, was a gray-haired Indian woman in a sari. She hoisted herself up into the cab of a Peterbilt, then drove off too quickly to catch for an interview. It reminded me of the time I saw four Buddhist monks (in full garb) shopping at a Costco and I didn't have a camera. America is constantly incorporating a mix of cultures into its patchwork identity. It's a good thing. It's our strength. We all come from somewhere else, even Native Americans. I love it.

Wednesday, May 20

I met two related couples when I stopped to take in the Dixie Caverns in Salem, VA. Our guide was young, energetic, and entertaining. It would have been worth the price of admission just to listen to her. The caverns were magnificent. But what raised it to the next level was the two couples. Lively and funny, I knew I had stumbled onto something when we exited and began to talk more. But I was not prepared for the sharp turn the conversation took.

The younger woman, Michelle, is Alice's niece. Michelle had recently graduated from the police academy and become an officer. I was impressed and asked how that came about. Alice spoke up and said, "Because my daughter was murdered a few years ago."

Suddenly the world stopped. Alice's daughter's name was Allison, she was twenty-three, and she died being a good Samaritan. Her murderer was caught and is currently in prison. I have yet to decide how to write about this.

Thursday, May 21

Mostly I drove and stopped, then drove some more. I arrived in the mid-afternoon at my sister's place in Stafford, VA, just south of Washington D.C. Her husband John greeted me with the family dog by saying, "Sick 'em, he's a liberal."

Friday, May 22

Went to Kinkos to have some of my digital photos printed out. Poked around my sister's neighborhood. Great cloud formations. Took pictures of them. Tomorrow officially starts The Memorial Day Weekend. My sister lives just outside the southern edge of Quantico U.S. Marine Corps Base. Lots of military personnel around, so I'd better give a shout out to them and thank them for their service. Thank you. Not just semper fi, but to all branches. Thanks.

Saturday, May 23 (Memorial Day Weekend)

Basically, this was a "down for service" day. I picked up my printed photographs and the rest was rest.

Sunday, May 24 (Memorial Day Weekend)

I drove into D.C. early. I was hoping to park outside of town and ride the Metro in, but I got a little turned around. When I finally had my bearings back, the Washington Monument loomed closely on the horizon, so I just found a parking spot a few blocks from the Reflecting Pool and hoofed it the rest of the way. Rolling Thunder was in town for their 22nd Annual motorcycle ride. They form a large army of Vets and others who want accountability for service people Missing In Action or who are Prisoners Of War. I talked briefly with a few of them and got some photos.

Tomorrow morning - Memorial Day - (9:12 AM East Coast, 6:12 AM Pacific) I am being interviewed by San Francisco's KGO Radio again (810 AM dial - you can listen on their website). They're checking up on me. And I am grateful to have the media exposure.

Monday, May 25 (Memorial Day)

I didn't totally suck on KGO, so I consider that a success; plugged my website and thanked the troops. Spent rest of this gray day writing and transcribing interviews. No photos.

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