Because
I am a watcher- of- dates and a keeper- of -scores, I could not miss the fact
that today’s column of Home Country
is number 400 of a personal love affair
that began on May 7th, 2009 with a commentary on the uniqueness of
early American architecture titled Backroad Gingerbread. Because I am
also one who holds the quality of continuity in high regard I am also proud to
point out to my readers (and editors) that in that nearly eight years of weekly
columns I have never missed a publication date or been late with a submission.
I was unsure just how to weave that notion
into a theme until my wife arrived from the post office with this morning’s
mail. There inside today’s clutch of Christmas cards was a hand-penned note
from old friends: “How thankful we are
that our paths crossed!” It hit home with me not only because it speaks so
sincerely and accurately of our long-standing friendship with this particular
family with whom we have shared precious experiences over many years, but
because in one short simple sentence it suggests that some of the most
significant and even sacred connections of our lives may not be merely earthly
coincidence; and this I believe holds true in my own life.
The circumstances that launched my “love
affair” with Talk Radio long ago and
those which carried that over to the print “world” years later were born from
experiences and connections which took place outside the circumference of my
own reach. It was this recognition of the role played by “chance” encounters
and unpredictable “players” that led to my column of January 29th,
2016 titled Friends, Connections and Dunbar’s Number in which I explored
what Science had to say on the subject. I now believe that the learned Dr.
Dunbar was probably right when he noted that most “thinking” individuals have
no more than 15 “close” friends at
any given time, and an “inner circle” of
only 3 – 5. By thinking this through I have a greater appreciation for those
rare and wonderful friends who reach out
their hands but touch my heart.
Almost weekly I will receive an email,
a letter or a phone call or three from readers who have questions or heartfelt
comments. Sometimes – as with my recent column of October 21st The
Last Walk -- they will descend by the dozen. (It was apparently a
message which registered squarely for many readers.) Whatever the case, I try
to honor every contact with a prompt response; every friend is important. There
are a number of readers/listeners who over the years have become more than
casual or chance acquaintances, but whose friendship has become ongoing and
uplifting. They are a treasure apart.
I have been asked if I ever pen an
article for the sheer “fun of it? The answer is YES: Wandering Through the Wonderful
World of Words – December 15, 2012 for one instance . Another that gives me pleasure because in
it I reveal deeply personal feelings usually kept private is titled “Smudgie”
and the Gold Bead, and was published February 16th,2015. And
that forces me to admit that for me, there is very often an emotional price to
be paid for my “personal” style of writing; that is my own story told in the
first person. Many years ago I asked a friend who was also a “story-teller”,
but one who worked with oils and canvas, to read and comment on a Christmas
story I had just completed. He started his review with the words “Let me ask
you something, Al: Did you cry when you were writing this?” My first unspoken thought
was what business is that of yours!
Followed closely by, how would you happen
to know that!!
When it comes to columns like The
Sad, Sad Road to Trebliuka, Jan., 2010 or Remembering the Lost Children of
Lidice, July 10, 2013 or dozens of others like them, tears are part of
the rite of passage for he or she who ventures into the words required to
complete the journey.
Of all these “connections”, I
appreciate today the trust and confidence which the editors and staff at
SPECTRUM have extended to me, and with it all, the loyalty of what has to be
one of the country’s warmest and most welcoming family of communities; Utah’s
Dixie.
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