Editor’s note: Rick McKay, Joe Masonick, and Jack Karolewski, have been annual travel companions for more than 50 years to a variety of sites with many goals. This week’s adventure is the 11th in the series.
The previous article is at thevoice.us/one-false-step-loomed-in-pyramid-climb
By Rick McKay
Our exhausting and fun-filled tour in 1977 took us by train to Cairo and by plane to Athens, our starting focus. When we arrived in Athens we were surprised to obtain stand-by flights back to the U.S. so quickly. All three of us were exhausted and ready to go home. We jumped at this opportunity and we were on our way home.
We arrived home healthy, but tired. Each of us had lost considerable weight over the Summer. I returned to the old farmhouse which I had called home for the past two years. It was in Winfield, Ill., almost directly across the railroad tracks from the DuPage County Complex and the fairgrounds to its east.
The next few weeks gave me opportunity to reflect on everything that I had experienced. I think all three of us came away with the same important realization. Even though cultures, customs, geographical and political conditions, vary as one moves around the globe, people are more similar than they are different. In this age of xenophobia and divisiveness, sometimes too many tend to lose sight of it.
Wherever you are in the world, the vast majority of people are not interested in trade wars, world domination, or endless domestic political squabbling. Their emphasis is on living a good and enjoyable life with access to healthy food, safe water, secure shelter, friendship, love, and family!
Two months later, during the DuPage County Fair, I left my house after darkness fell and wandered along the railroad tracks opposite the excited sounds of the fairgoers in the distance. When I returned to my house I penned the following recollection:
“This evening beneath a near full moon I climbed an aged tree some distance beyond the old farmhouse wherein I have found residence these past two years. Finding secure grips and firm footing, I carefully hoisted myself from the ground and by steps ascended to a height some 20 feet above the brush and matted grass at the base of the tree. Music, cheering, and screaming, could be heard from the distant Fairgrounds.
“Over one stout limb, and through the mesh of leafless twigs, the full moon shined in all its splendor, creamy-white. I looked and wondered at how many tiny people the world over note its progress across the heavens. We are so small, us human beings, yet we have sought to understand, each in his own way, the Universe in which we live and how we relate to it.
“Soon my reverie turned from that distant orb to the faraway lands and the many diverse faces I saw during my Summer travels this year. I thought of Nadim and his family in Damascus, who had been so helpful and hospitable to us during our stay in Syria. I thought of the many people of Herat, Afghanistan whose paths crossed mine, but momentarily—the toothless man who was willing to pose for me and then quite suddenly broke out in an audacious grin as I snapped the shutter; the young boy holding his sister in front of the camera, both unfazed by the obnoxious fly which crawled around on the tip of her nose; the little boy who offered us candy and beckoned us into the carpenter shop; or the one who kneaded dough at the bakery, so curious about our cameras, not wanting to be left out when we ready to take our snapshots.
“Most likely, each of these had seen that same moon, which I now gazed upon, only a few hours earlier. I allowed my thoughts and imagination to cross that vast expanse to those faraway places and wonder for a few minutes about the lives of each of these individuals. What did the man with the audacious grin do for a living? What family did he have? What might his home have looked like? What thoughts did he entertain, what philosophy of life? What happened to the children who were apprentices in the shops we visited, looked after younger siblings, or played carefree in the streets?
“We saw so many people this Summer, but how many did we really come to know, even amongst our own group? As I rested the weight of my body against the trunk of the tree, I thought they deserved this contemplation, at least.”
Soon I came out of my reverie. From my lofty position I gazed across the railroad tracks to the colored lights of carnival on the premises of the distant fairground. The faint rumbling of machinery, the intermittent screams, the musicians letting loose with their rendition of “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.”
A blanket of fog lay across the grassy fields as I made my way back to the house.
Looking back at all the trips I have taken with Joe and Jack over the past 50 years, I think we would all agree that this early adventure had the greatest impact on each of us individually and bonded us in a way that no other one could have.
In closing, I asked both Joe and Jack why they thought our friendship had endured so long. Joe said: “I believe we all are open-minded and possess a desire to learn and willingness to try new experiences. We have an unwritten commitment to each other to continue to enjoy and build upon our long-term friendship. And we have shared many important experiences and milestones throughout our 50 years of knowing each other that have strengthened the bond between us.”
Jack offered: “You both are the brothers I never had. We have shared major personal life experiences, changes in world history, and the same careers as teachers. We have discussed and analyzed just about every topic over the past half-century. This is amazing!”
I am SO grateful to have been fortunate enough to meet these two gentlemen. It is a rare privilege, I am told, to have even a single friendship that lasts this long, let alone a three-way bond. We know each other’s histories, ups and downs, triumphs and failures probably more that anyone but our respective spouses. It is my sincere hope that it lasts for many years yet to come!
Continued at thevoice.us/ancient-pilgrimage-new