Central Park 1976
Every journey we embark on in life leaves us infinitely different than when we begin. The evolution of the trek brings forth a lesson we otherwise could not have had. What we must do with this newfound wisdom is choose whether to allow it to make our lives better or worse. Even the episodes that bring us heartache and pain still pour forth amazing knowledge that can help us seek new dreams and adventures or bind us onto a life of mediocrity.
As you look back on some of life's most fascinating journey's you may notice that the mountains you sought to climb you attempted to carry them instead. As your shoes got heavier and your back more burdened, the weight of the journey became more than you could bare. What happened?
Many years ago I embarked on what should have been a routine journey like any other day in the life of a young teen. It was mid morning on a Saturday in late August. The sun was bright and the air unusually cool, it felt great. I jumped on my ten speed and headed south on Block Drive. I made a right on Benton Street, rode under the San Tomas Expressway and continued on till I got to Central Park. I chained my bike to a tree, turned on my red transistor radio and begin my walk. It was so wonderful seeing all the people milling around, hippies displaying art, blankets spread out with people reading or writing, and some even dancing around while local musicians played. I made my way to the southwest point where flowers were in full bloom, the trees were bright green and the park benches allowed you to sit and watch the jets on their final descent into San Jose International Airport. I vividly remember The Bee Gees "You Should be Dancing" playing on my radio from the awesome station KOME. Music in the summer of 1976 was heavy in love songs. It was a wonderful time of life.
What seemed like a normal Saturday quickly changed. I could hear the sirens coming from Kiely Blvd to my left and another set coming from Benton Street to the north. Out of curiosity I ran back to my bike to see if I could find the excitement. As I neared San Tomas I saw all the activity. Several police cars, a fire truck, and two ambulances. With all the distraction and traffic stopped I decided to ride my bike up the ramp to see what had happened. With all the commotion it was hard to tell but I could see three vehicles rather mangled. I pushed my bike closer and was able to get a glimpse of the workers trying almost in vain to get someone out of a car. The frantic pace finally came to a conclusion as they pulled a female out of the wreckage and loaded her on a stretcher. A police offer approached me and nicely asked me to move on and please do not ride a bike on the expressway. Just as I was about to ride away I looked up and saw a TWA jet flying over making its way to the airport.
As I rode my bike back to the small apartment on Block Drive something occurred to me. The people involved in the wreck had a totally different experience than the people I witnessed in the park, or did they. The folks flying home or visiting the area had a much different day than the rescue crew trying to get the lady out of the crashed car, or did they. What if all this was somehow connected, maybe not to offer a life lesson to the one's involved as much as it was for me. Consider the fact that 40 years later I am writing about this which means it had an impact on me that generated a purpose or passion much greater than I understood at the time.
We have no idea what lies or dies behind the frowns or smiles we see on the faces of others. On the surface the people I saw at Central Park seemed to have life on cruise control, but what if, just what if, one or more of those folks were facing life decisions that would impact them from now on. What if their burden was so heavy that they masked it for those few moments that I saw them. What if the person sitting on row 27 seat B on that TWA flight was coming back home because a loved one had recently died. Or maybe a flight attendant was taking the next week off to have some medical test done to see why she was having so many abdominal pains. What if the person sitting in first class was minutes away from facing the truth of a life mistake that up until now had been safely tucked away as a family secret. What if, just what if, everything that happened that day helped me escape the problems I was facing as young teen in a foreign land.
So many what if's yet so few answers to the treasures and lessons life holds. I mentioned the people in the park and the one's flying on the plane, but the real wisdom for me was in the miracle at the intersection of Benton and San Tomas. You will never read about it in the newspaper nor see it on TV, this was just another nuisance traffic stopping incident in the Bay Area. But for me, I witnessed so much more. As I pushed my bike closer to the wreck I stood beside two people talking. The conversation was strikingly deep, especially for a young teen to hear. However I was well seasoned in the few years I had spent on this earth so I was honed on to hear what was being discussed. The middle aged man was wearing a nice button up blue shirt and jeans. He had a small cut on his face but refused treatment so they could help others. I overheard him saying that this wreck saved his life. No question he had been drinking or something, I'm not exactly sure. He said that all he remembered was dozing off and opened his eyes right as he crossed lanes and hit the car beside him. He was in deep emotional pain as he kept asking if the lady that was cut out of the car was going to be okay. No questions he was facing life obstacles that had it not been for the wreck very possibly would have ruined his life in ways I dare to consider.
For years I wondered who he was and why he was drinking that early on a Saturday. It is left to my imagination as to how and why he felt that accident saved his life. I will never know the lives of any of the people I saw or thought about that day, but wisdom tells me that they each had a story and a burden that carried a heavy weight. If life were a book I bet each one of us would have a chapter or two we would not want to be read out loud. I often wonder why the real person that dwells in our mind can seldom if ever be the person that others see and experience. We are taught to live in such a way that cages our dreams and stifles our imagination. That day taught me that life is a series of adventures, missteps, mistakes, and miscues that given the opportunity others will gladly bind you with. It is the one's that can give themselves permission to allow life to give you words that will make your chapters advance the book of life not conclude it. This is your story and must be written and told by you. Who knows that accident may have saved my life and reading this story may just save yours.
I write this blog more as a challenge than anything. No matter what lessons you have learned, no matter the mistakes you have made, the secrets that you hold, the bones you have buried, the cuts that you have or the scars that you bare. You are still a living breathing miracle that has music that still needs to be sung. Its time to climb those mountains you have been carrying so you can finally appreciate the view from the top. I learned many lessons that beautiful August day that I still utilize 40 years later. I see and feel the dreams, joys, pains, and hardships that we all endure. I also see the potential that each and everyone of us has. We must allow ourselves to be products of our past never prisoners to it. We must never look back other than to seek guidance going forward. The future is where our dreams reside and our PRESENT holds the key to our beautiful tomorrow.
peace be with you
Dale
As you look back on some of life's most fascinating journey's you may notice that the mountains you sought to climb you attempted to carry them instead. As your shoes got heavier and your back more burdened, the weight of the journey became more than you could bare. What happened?
Many years ago I embarked on what should have been a routine journey like any other day in the life of a young teen. It was mid morning on a Saturday in late August. The sun was bright and the air unusually cool, it felt great. I jumped on my ten speed and headed south on Block Drive. I made a right on Benton Street, rode under the San Tomas Expressway and continued on till I got to Central Park. I chained my bike to a tree, turned on my red transistor radio and begin my walk. It was so wonderful seeing all the people milling around, hippies displaying art, blankets spread out with people reading or writing, and some even dancing around while local musicians played. I made my way to the southwest point where flowers were in full bloom, the trees were bright green and the park benches allowed you to sit and watch the jets on their final descent into San Jose International Airport. I vividly remember The Bee Gees "You Should be Dancing" playing on my radio from the awesome station KOME. Music in the summer of 1976 was heavy in love songs. It was a wonderful time of life.
What seemed like a normal Saturday quickly changed. I could hear the sirens coming from Kiely Blvd to my left and another set coming from Benton Street to the north. Out of curiosity I ran back to my bike to see if I could find the excitement. As I neared San Tomas I saw all the activity. Several police cars, a fire truck, and two ambulances. With all the distraction and traffic stopped I decided to ride my bike up the ramp to see what had happened. With all the commotion it was hard to tell but I could see three vehicles rather mangled. I pushed my bike closer and was able to get a glimpse of the workers trying almost in vain to get someone out of a car. The frantic pace finally came to a conclusion as they pulled a female out of the wreckage and loaded her on a stretcher. A police offer approached me and nicely asked me to move on and please do not ride a bike on the expressway. Just as I was about to ride away I looked up and saw a TWA jet flying over making its way to the airport.
As I rode my bike back to the small apartment on Block Drive something occurred to me. The people involved in the wreck had a totally different experience than the people I witnessed in the park, or did they. The folks flying home or visiting the area had a much different day than the rescue crew trying to get the lady out of the crashed car, or did they. What if all this was somehow connected, maybe not to offer a life lesson to the one's involved as much as it was for me. Consider the fact that 40 years later I am writing about this which means it had an impact on me that generated a purpose or passion much greater than I understood at the time.
We have no idea what lies or dies behind the frowns or smiles we see on the faces of others. On the surface the people I saw at Central Park seemed to have life on cruise control, but what if, just what if, one or more of those folks were facing life decisions that would impact them from now on. What if their burden was so heavy that they masked it for those few moments that I saw them. What if the person sitting on row 27 seat B on that TWA flight was coming back home because a loved one had recently died. Or maybe a flight attendant was taking the next week off to have some medical test done to see why she was having so many abdominal pains. What if the person sitting in first class was minutes away from facing the truth of a life mistake that up until now had been safely tucked away as a family secret. What if, just what if, everything that happened that day helped me escape the problems I was facing as young teen in a foreign land.
So many what if's yet so few answers to the treasures and lessons life holds. I mentioned the people in the park and the one's flying on the plane, but the real wisdom for me was in the miracle at the intersection of Benton and San Tomas. You will never read about it in the newspaper nor see it on TV, this was just another nuisance traffic stopping incident in the Bay Area. But for me, I witnessed so much more. As I pushed my bike closer to the wreck I stood beside two people talking. The conversation was strikingly deep, especially for a young teen to hear. However I was well seasoned in the few years I had spent on this earth so I was honed on to hear what was being discussed. The middle aged man was wearing a nice button up blue shirt and jeans. He had a small cut on his face but refused treatment so they could help others. I overheard him saying that this wreck saved his life. No question he had been drinking or something, I'm not exactly sure. He said that all he remembered was dozing off and opened his eyes right as he crossed lanes and hit the car beside him. He was in deep emotional pain as he kept asking if the lady that was cut out of the car was going to be okay. No questions he was facing life obstacles that had it not been for the wreck very possibly would have ruined his life in ways I dare to consider.
For years I wondered who he was and why he was drinking that early on a Saturday. It is left to my imagination as to how and why he felt that accident saved his life. I will never know the lives of any of the people I saw or thought about that day, but wisdom tells me that they each had a story and a burden that carried a heavy weight. If life were a book I bet each one of us would have a chapter or two we would not want to be read out loud. I often wonder why the real person that dwells in our mind can seldom if ever be the person that others see and experience. We are taught to live in such a way that cages our dreams and stifles our imagination. That day taught me that life is a series of adventures, missteps, mistakes, and miscues that given the opportunity others will gladly bind you with. It is the one's that can give themselves permission to allow life to give you words that will make your chapters advance the book of life not conclude it. This is your story and must be written and told by you. Who knows that accident may have saved my life and reading this story may just save yours.
I write this blog more as a challenge than anything. No matter what lessons you have learned, no matter the mistakes you have made, the secrets that you hold, the bones you have buried, the cuts that you have or the scars that you bare. You are still a living breathing miracle that has music that still needs to be sung. Its time to climb those mountains you have been carrying so you can finally appreciate the view from the top. I learned many lessons that beautiful August day that I still utilize 40 years later. I see and feel the dreams, joys, pains, and hardships that we all endure. I also see the potential that each and everyone of us has. We must allow ourselves to be products of our past never prisoners to it. We must never look back other than to seek guidance going forward. The future is where our dreams reside and our PRESENT holds the key to our beautiful tomorrow.
peace be with you
Dale
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