“Slow Travel” Can Provide a More Enjoyable and Sustainable Ride

This article appeared in Energy Bulletin on October 8, 2011

Here I am at the Lamy, NM station waiting for Amtrak's Southwest Chief

Last year I made a goal to take all the major Amtrak long haul lines at least once.  In effect, I had become a rail fan as a result of riding the Empire Builder across the top of the country from Chicago to western Montana and back.  That 32-hour ride (one-way) was such an engaging and fun experience that I had to have more of it.

This year I will add two more lines:  the Southwest Chief, which retraces the old Santa Fe Trail through Kansas, Colorado and New Mexico and the City of New Orleans, which follows the Mississippi River all the way south to the Big Easy. 

In explaining why I find train travel so appealing, my ultimate mission is to encourage others to take the train and thus help grow a constituency that may act as enthusiastic lobbyists for a public long-haul transportation system.  I believe that re-building the rail system we disassembled after World War II in favor of an extensive air and interstate highway network is one of many ways we might steer ourselves toward a more sustainable energy future. 

Beyond these environmental and political concerns, trains can provide Americans with at least one other option to the frenzied and frustrating tangle of our airports and freeways.  And, passengers can witness the fantastic landscapes of our country unavailable to them when they fly 500 miles per hour at 30,000 feet or drive 70 on the superhighways.  They may find that “Slow Travel” is as aesthetically pleasing and romantic as the Slow Food movement has been because it encourages people to notice and savor the landscape. 

Slow travel is not about covering miles to reach a destination but rather about allowing yourself to be transported from one world to another by letting the land speak to you.  This is especially available to passengers on the Southwest Chief.

As the train rumbles, squeaks, rattles and sways, you move from one time zone, one region and one reality to another.  This constant rhythm and sonorous background is soothing to the soul and it engenders a solitude that’s good for reading, writing, thinking, dreaming, contemplating or sleeping.  Of course, a lot of people tune into the Internet, play video games or watch movies to pass the time.  However, if you gaze out the window and study the panorama before you, you open yourself up to a new awareness focused on the “life of the land” and its history. 

As you pass the tall corn of Illinois, Iowa and Missouri you realize how it is possible this grain is so plentiful in our food products (and biofuels), and that the golden brown wheat of Kansas will provide our daily bread.  On the Colorado plains where the buffalo once roamed are grazing cattle that will be meat for our tables.  This state’s forests and rushing rivers are quite a contrast to the eroded hillsides, gullies and dry riverbeds of the desert lands and reveal the important role water plays in these parts.  The flat yellow plains of New Mexico support only a handful of trees while the mountainous areas are covered with fragrant sagebrush, junipers and pinion pines under a clear blue sky.  Big square buttes sit atop humpy mountains.  No wonder the ancient peoples who lived here 10,000 years ago concocted a nature religion.

Throughout the journey in lonely, secluded places TV antennas poke out of small prefab houses or mobile homes while at night their soft, yellow lights capture the essence of home, comfort and tranquility.  Then, the wood-frame farmhouses with their collapsed, sun-blanched roofs confirm that an old way of life has disappeared. 

Everywhere are fences and in key places are tall or short telephone poles with crossbars sometimes crooked by design.  These signify the effort to civilize the land.  What time and energy it took to construct them!  But they are nothing compared to the mountains where sedimentation, uplift, water and erosion have formed them over millions of years. 

Trains go through towns, most of them old downtowns, with late nineteenth century Italianate architecture, a refreshing change from the predictable glass and steel skyscrapers of our modern age.  Worn-off lettering on their red brick walls advertise businesses long gone but not entirely forgotten.  Train stationhouses vary in color, style and materials but the sentiments of the people coming and going there are the same:  broad, happy smiles of welcome to family and friends or tears and somber faces saying goodbye.

America’s junkyards sit along the rail lines in nearly every town with their rusted out cars and heaps of concrete and twisted metal.  They are a pretty dreadful sight!  These remains represent the past, too, the industrial past, as well as the clarion call for a new, more sustainable way of life. 

Wagon Mound is a teeny-tiny town in northeastern New Mexico with a giant-size butte.  Amtrak’s route guide indicates that it served as a landmark for pioneers going westward on the old Santa Fe Trail.  Imagine their relief when they saw it after a six to eight week journey over 600-700 miles from western Missouri.  The butte is a sign for me, too, that my 24-hour journey from Chicago is just about over, only I’ve spent it in a comfortable setting with soft seats, adequate food and water and safety.

In truth, long haul trains are romantic and sensual because other than keeping on schedule, time is not a priority.  For one thing, you are treated to good, old-fashioned service.  As you board the train, the conductor and attendants welcome you, handle your bags and offer you pillows. 

The seats are very comfortable and you have a lot of legroom and a big window to look out.  The lounge car provides an even better view with a clear top ceiling.  It also provides electrical plugs and Internet connections.  The dining car gives you almost a 360-degree view and if you time it right, you can have your breakfast during sunrise and your dinner at sunset.  On my return train I had dinner over the grassy Colorado plains where a bright yellow sun dipped below the horizon as purple mountains stood tall in the background amid the reds, pinks, blues and lavender clouds streaking the sky.  There’s not much as scenic or simple as Nature’s paintbrush! 

Railway workers tend to be jaunty and a little quirky rather than staid and technical like airline pilots. 

“La Junta (Colorado) is the next stop,” says the announcer with an emphasis on the “J” and ending the word with a lilt. 

“Here is beautiful, downtown Princeton (near Chicago),” he says another time.

In the dining car wait staff routinely joke around with each other and with passengers.  Many people who work the rails are avid rail fans themselves, only they are able to play the part.  Dinner is an especially exciting challenge for the servers who must contend with a wobble here and a jerky turn there.  This alone is cause for conversation.

My attendant on the way to Santa Fe must have been a history buff as he shared stories about key points of interest once we reached Colorado and New Mexico.  For example, he told us about the Civil War battle in Glorietta, NM (I didn’t know the war was out there) and alerted us to a particularly scenic spot.  Going through such places make them real rather than abstractions on a map!

Trains are a safe way to travel.  Conductors and attendants pass through the entire train from time to time throughout the trip to make sure all is well.  They help you if you need anything, have a question or just want to talk a bit.  In other words, they have time for you and give it rather freely.

If you book a sleeper, an attendant makes up your bed in the evening and tears it down in the morning.  He also makes sure you have water and coffee during the trip and access to the New York Times in the morning. 

Stretching out on a bed at night is a welcome change from the day’s seated position.  The bed vibrates a little amid the thumping of wheels on tracks, but it provides a better sedative than Sominex. 

Throughout the night but especially during bedtime and morning you hear the occasional slam of compartment doors as well as the low creaks and squawks of train cars rub against each other.  Someone might walk by in pajamas on the way to the bathroom or shower.  This is train culture, too, and it’s a fun diversion from ordinary conventions!

Taking a shower on a train is a particularly unique experience and not just because you are in a moving object.  One shower stall is supposed to accommodate everyone in your car and somehow everyone who wants one gets it.  Actually, this is a rare opportunity to share space and you see that it really works.  The shower is a tight squeeze but the water is hot and the hand-held nozzle gives you greater flexibility to bathe your entire body. 

I’ve slept in coach in my clothes for 34 hours and I’ve taken a shower in sleeper class after an overnight.  The latter is surely better, and I felt clean, refreshed and ready for a new day.  Amtrak provides soap and clean towels.

Riding a long haul train at night has its own special enchantment.  Streetlights and building lamps glow slightly higher than the horizon.  A lonely car moves through a sleepy town.  Red warning lights flash and clang their bells at crossings.  Tall, dimly lit grain elevators rise up in farmlands; they are the rural skyscrapers.  Little red lights blink at the top of communication towers.  Finally, and most importantly, you get a rare view of the stars.

Yes, yes, yes, there are disadvantages to the train.  They’re not always on time.  The aisles are small and making it difficult to walk as the train bounces on the tracks, especially when you must pass people going in the opposite direction.  You excuse yourself, maybe laugh at the struggle, figure out who goes first and politely pass.  Actually, this is an example of what goes on in public space, a phenomenon we have gotten away from as we rely on private transportation, our cars, to get us to where we want to go. 

In truth, trains are among the last public spaces left in our impersonal, high-security, privatized society and they demand a different kind of behavior.  You must interact with other passengers—strangers—in a respectful, face-to-face way.  And, people seem to want—and conductors try to ensure—an environment that is absent the omnipresent cacophony of electronic devices and boisterous talking simply because you all are travelers on the same train.  Of course, the Lounge Car is available for those who prefer more spirited interaction.

As with any public space, trains beckon you to explore them in a number of ways.  You can walk from car to car to stretch your legs, use the restroom or get a snack.  You can go to the Lounge Car to play cards, observe the scenery or just find a new place to sit. You can also go to the Dining Car for a delicious meal at a table that is complete with a tablecloth, cloth napkins, real silverware and friendly, unrushed servers.  Because space is limited and every seat a premium, you are seated with other passengers if you are alone or traveling with one or two others.  This is how you meet some interesting people who are usually willing to share their lives or some stories with you.

And, then you learn something else about public space that is totally unexpected:  the passengers develop a degree of trust among themselves.  In riding with people a long way, you at least recognize them even if you don’t talk to them.  Some you get to know through casual conversation.  That’s when you realize that our more privatized society has actually cut us off from each other and made us more suspicious that some unknown thug will jump out from the shadows to rob, beat or kill us.  The train reminds us that indeed there is another way. 

Finally, the return home after a long cross-country train ride is particularly sweet because the time you’ve spent and space you’ve traversed are now a part of you—and, you’ve traveled it slowly! 

Hiroshima Commemoration: Living Happily Near a Nuclear Trash Heap

Guest Report by Dick Thompson of Time
May 11, 1992

DR. WILLIAM REID WAS NEW TO Oak Ridge, Tenn., and disturbed by what he was seeing. Soon after he joined the staff of Methodist Medical Center in early 1991, he was treating four patients with kidney cancers, an unusually large number for one small area, and a cluster of other people who appeared to have weakened ability to ward off infections. Reid suspected that something in the local environment was attacking the residents' immune systems.

It didn't take much imagination for Reid to figure out possible sources of contamination. For 49 years, federal installations at Oak Ridge have manufactured the innards of nuclear bombs. In the process, the plants have produced -- and carelessly disposed of -- mountains of radioactive material and hazardous wastes. Even the U.S. government admits the Oak Ridge labs have littered the surrounding countryside with everything from asbestos and mercury to enriched uranium. The story is much the same at all the country's now notorious nuclear weapons plants, scattered from Hanford, Wash., to Los Alamos, N. Mex., to the Savannah River plant. The Department of Energy has launched a major clean-up effort, but it might be too late to prevent a host of medical problems in people who have lived in the shadow of the toxic plants for decades.

Could a health disaster be hitting Oak Ridge? Reid was determined to find out.

...Still, Oak Ridge is no ordinary place. Earlier this year a visitor to one of the nuclear facilities accidentally turned off the main road. When he tried to leave, alarms rang, and the government bought his radioactive rental car on the spot. In the reservation surrounding the plants, creatures ranging from deer to frogs and water fleas have all excited Geiger counters. Contaminated trees, which take up nuclear liquids through their roots, have been chopped down and buried lest the autumn winds spread radioactive leaves. And the streams have carried toxic chemicals and nuclear products -- including strontium, tritium and plutonium -- for distances of 64 km (40 miles). Posted along the town's creek are NO FISHING signs and Department of Energy warnings: no water contact.

No one worried much about environmental contamination when Oak Ridge quietly sprang up as part of the Manhattan Project during World War II. By 1944, two years after construction started, Oak Ridge had become Tennessee's fifth largest city, and it was all behind a guarded fence. At peak production, the "secret city" used 20% more power than New York City.

After the products of the Manhattan Project exploded over Japan and ended the war, the mania for secrecy diminished. The fences surrounding the city came down, and Oak Ridge started appearing on maps. But its work was far from done. Once the arms race with the Soviets began, Oak Ridgers hunkered down to help produce an arsenal of American hydrogen bombs. A recently declassified report done for the Department of Energy found that the weapons factories "operated in an atmosphere of high urgency" that resulted in astounding environmental and health assaults.

Between 1951 and '84, the Oak Ridge plants pumped 10.2 million L (2.7 million gal.) of concentrated acids and nuclear wastes into open-air ponds, called the "witches' cauldron," from which the chemicals would evaporate or leach into a nearby stream. Barrels of strange brews and experimental gases, some so volatile that they would explode on contact with oxygen, were sealed and dropped into a quarry pool. A neatly stacked collection of 76,600 barrels and oil drums, filled with nuclear sludge and now rusting, is larger than the main building at Oak Ridge. Millions of cubic meters of toxic material, including pcbs and cobalt 60, were dumped in trenches and covered with soil. In 1983 the Department of Energy acknowledged that 1.1 million kg (2.4 million lbs.) of mercury had been lost. It went up the smokestacks, drained into the soil and flowed into the stream that runs through town. After that revelation, mercury was found at the city's two high schools and in the blood of workers at one of the atomic-research sites. An unknown amount of enriched uranium went out smokestacks.

....The culture of secrecy and concern about job security may have kept information from health investigators. Says Robert Keil, president of the Oak Ridge Atomic Trades and Labor Council: "One thing that kept people from coming forward is that they were afraid they might jeopardize their security clearance by talking about something that was classified."

The end of the cold war provides an opportunity to get at the truth. At Oak Ridge, as at other weapons labs, the threat of a nuclear conflict has been replaced by the threat of massive layoffs. The big job in town now seems to be cleaning up the nuclear trash heap. More than $1.5 billion has already been spent on detoxifying Oak Ridge, and the end isn't in sight. The government is beginning an exhaustive medical survey of the people who live around Oak Ridge, including the women. The Centers for Disease Control has been asked to look into Reid's allegations.

But confident of the outcome, the people of Oak Ridge still sleep soundly. They have lived with danger for decades and see no reason to start panicking now.

Read more: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,975482,00.html#ixzz1TXin2fqo

Hiroshima Commemoration: The Oak Ridge Conundrum of War and Peace

International Friendship Bell in in A.K. Bissell Park that is rung for soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan every Sunday by the Oak Ridge Peacemaking Alliance (ORPAX)

Previously posted in Common Dreams -- August 6, 2009

Oak Ridge, Tennessee, “the city that made the atom bomb,” clearly illustrates the difficult conundrum people must face when their government decides to build a stockpile of highly lethal nuclear weapons.

The origins of this conundrum are steeped with justifications like (a) “the bomb” ended the World War II and saved American lives; (b) the weapons protect us from our enemies and have prevented World War III; and (c) the research and manufacture of nuclear products preserve jobs, homes, and the local economy.

From its beginning in 1942 Oak Ridge was an unsettling place.  Located in the lush and beautiful Clinch River Valley of eastern Tennessee, it “mushroomed” into a government “reservation” of 75,000 people living and working in the middle of nowhere so research and production of the atomic bomb could be hidden from the enemy fascists of Germany.  Unfortunately, the farmers and their families who lived there were dispossessed of their property and told to clear out in 10 days. 

Oak Ridge finally produced the plutonium for the “Little Boy” and “Fat Man” bombs dropped on Hiroshima (August 6) and Nagasaki (August 9) killing 140,000 and 80,000 respectively.  Since then, tens of thousands more Japanese have died from leukemia and various cancers attributed to exposure to radiation released by the bombs.  Nevertheless, when Japan surrendered on August 15, Oak Ridgers were jubilant because they were told that their work made a direct contribution toward ending the war. 

Life in the “Secret City” wasn’t easy for the Oak Ridgers, who were mostly civilians literally living behind a security fence under the authority of the Army.  Residents were expected to report any suspicious behavior of their neighbors and fellow workers.  Employees had to sign a pledge not to divulge any secrets about their work, which was so broken down into smaller parts that only the top directors of the Manhattan project knew that the atom bomb was actually being built!

Oak Ridge was conceived of as a temporary city with a single purpose and no one expected it would continue after the war.  Housing was made of cheap, pre-fabricated materials.  Facilities and amenities were meager and mud was everywhere. 

Soon after the war when the Oak Ridge mission was accomplished, some people left the “Secret City” relieved to get out.  Many people, however, wanted to stay because they believed that the knowledge discovered there was too valuable not to be further developed.  Others stayed because they just wanted to keep their jobs.  Then, Eugene Wigner, one of the legendary refugee scientists from Europe who provided the theoretical and practical knowledge that fueled the Manhattan project, created a new, peacetime purpose for nuclear research.  As a result, the city was saved and this new purpose came in the form of radioactive isotopes that are used extensively in medicine (especially for thyroid disease and cancer therapy), agriculture, powering spacecrafts, smoke detectors, DNA analysis, diagnostic imaging and other advanced scientific applications.  Now, the facilities behind the fence are known as the world-famous and highly-respected Oak Ridge National Laboratory (ORNL).

Oak Ridge, today, is a thriving multicultural community of 27,000.  It has a rich and proud history, good schools and wonderful cultural and environmental amenities that make the city an attractive place to live.  ORNL and the University of Tennessee in Knoxville (25 miles away) help populate the city with well-traveled, well-read, well-educated, well-informed people who are very smart and like living in Oak Ridge.  But even this is a conundrum when it comes to peacemaking activities.

Residents have been involved in various peace causes over the years.  For example, the city entered into a sister-city relationship with Naka-shi, Ibaraki-ken, Japan, on October 29, 1990.  It also hosts the Ulster Project (http://www.ulsterproject.org) where Catholic and Protestant teenagers from Northern Ireland “build a peaceful parity of esteem between each other by building tolerance, trust, and ongoing positive relationships.” 

So far, 11 greenways comprise 1,566 acres of sanctuary for wildlife and native plants as well as trails and other opportunities for residents to enjoy nature in unspoiled settings.   Walking tours and excursion trains take people through the area’s history.

The American Museum of Science and Energy (http://www.amse.org) provides exhibits on the peaceful uses of atomic energy and serves as a “center for exploration dedicated to personalizing science and technology.”  However, while museums generally help visitors to remember and reflect on the past in order to shape the future, this one has a sense of ironic tragedy with its shiny war exhibits like a replica of “Little Boy” and a Mark 28, the oldest thermonuclear bomb in the U.S. arsenal.  I found these exhibits difficult to admire.  In fact, they were downright frightening—second only to the elderly gentleman at the museum’s info desk.  He had worked on “the bomb” and now he was breathing from an oxygen machine and living with cancer, presumably due to his exposure to radiation.

Being a peace activist in Oak Ridge creates a confrontation with the legacy of the “Secret City,” where residents resist engaging in talk or activities that might affect the ORNL’s nuclear weapons research or production.  They risk losing their jobs, government contracts, lifestyles or valued relationships in this tight-knit community and company town.  Now that is a terrible conundrum to live with.

Nevertheless, the Oak Ridge Peacemaking Alliance (ORPAX), begun in 1982, joined other Americans in their concern about the nuclear arms race.  ORPAX joined a group of “outsiders” (another legacy of Oak Ridge living where you were either “inside” or “outside” the security fence) to commemorate Hiroshima Day in 1983.  Even so, it was careful to stipulate that the day would be a memorial to those who died and not a condemnation of Oak Ridge or of the Y-12 plant that made “the bomb.”  These demands were not realized.

Since 1988, the Oak Ridge Environmental Peace Alliance (OREPA) has also demonstrated against nuclear weapons at the gates of the Y-12 plant in its Stop the Bombs campaign (www.stopthebombs.org).  It, too, holds a Hiroshima Day and since 1998 members have made over 500 presentations on WMD and militarism and invited thousands of people to Oak Ridge to demonstrate against nuclear weapons.  Hundreds of OREPA members have also been arrested for acts of civil disobedience on this issue. 

Peace activists report that their Hiroshima observances have been mocked.  Newspaper editorials have issued scathing commentaries against their anti-war activities.  During the 1990s, obstructionists tried to scuttle proposals for an International Friendship Bell whose aim was to unite the people of Oak Ridge and Japan in friendship and remembrance over the terrible death and destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki so that it would never happen again.  But this issue was eventually resolved and the bell stands tall in A.K. Bissell Park and is promoted as a must-see site on the Visitors and Convention Bureau city map. 

When the United States threatened war against Iraq in 2002, Oak Ridge peace activists demonstrated against it—and were met with counter-protests across the street by people who dismissed the activists as “way overboard.”  Nevertheless, some activists are undeterred.  One elderly woman regularly writes letters to the editor in the local newspaper about her opposition to the war despite bloggers’ labeling her a “radical activist.”

Another woman wrote a booklet for high school students on the practical realities of enlisting in the military in order to balance the influence of military recruiters.  She informed parents that the military has access to students’ records and then lobbied the school board to give parents the option of having their child receive information on enlistment.

And one more conundrum:  a lot of the local residents appreciated the activists’ peacemaking efforts even though they don’t stand with them. 

Today, members of ORPAX conduct their demonstrations “in very harmless ways.” said one middle-aged member.


“We’re not trying to get coverage in the newspaper.  And when we go out to ring the International Friendship Bell on Sundays [in honor of the fallen Americans in Iraq and Afghanistan], we do it more for ourselves in a private way.  If we were public about it, we’d put ourselves at risk.”

Oak Ridgers understand what it means to be a part of a place that has a great effect on the world—in both war and peace.  And in some ways, Oak Ridge still remains a “secret city”—for those who thirst for peace.

However, it is important to recognize that the Oak Ridge conundrum of war and peace reflects the conundrum of our entire nation.  Oak Ridge may be the place where WMD were and are constructed, but all Americans share a responsibility for what we do with these weapons.  For my money, especially on this day of remembrance in Hiroshima, they should all be banned and disassembled.

Hiroshima Commemoration: Memories and Interpretations

The "mushroom cloud" over Hiroshima on August 6, 1945

Photos supplied by  Free Info Society.

Keyoko was there during the bombing of Hiroshima on Monday, August 6, 1945. At 8:15 a.m. just before the glass of her house shattered into tiny pieces, her baby started screaming. Shards of glass covered her scalp. Keyoko looked out the window and saw the mushroom cloud hanging in the air over the city. She went outside her house looking for relatives among the piles of bodies and animal carcasses killed by the intense, radioactive heat, she saw buildings and concrete streets with vaporized shadows of human figures etched on them. People were running around begging for water.

* * * * *

The pilots of the Enola Gay described seeing blinding light fill their aircraft and the entirety of the ground below being obscured by the billowing mushroom-shaped column of smoke. Reportedly, the co-pilot could taste the fission as lead in the air.

"Little Boy" made in Oak Ridge, Tenn.

 “Little Boy” had been dropped from the Enola Gay, the B-29 bomber that flew over Hiroshima. Upon impact, the bomb generated an enormous amount of air pressure and heat and a significant amount of radiation (gamma rays and neutrons). A strong wind generated by the bomb destroyed most of the houses and buildings within a 1.5-mile radius. When the wind reached the mountains, it ricocheted and again hit the people in the city center. By the end of the year 140,000 civilians were dead. Another 60,000 people eventually died from the bomb’s effects. Three days later a second bomb, “Fat Man,” was dropped on Nagasaki resulting in the deaths of approximately 70,000 people by year’s end. On August 15, Japanese Emperor Hirohito surrendered.

The area of the destruction caused by the bomb was about 4 square miles. In this area an estimated 48,000 buildings were completely destroyed. More damage occurred from the fires generated by the explosion over the next several days.

* * * * *

Howard served in the Army during the Korean War. He is convinced that dropping the bomb on Hiroshima “was the right thing to do” because the war cost the lives of many Japanese and American GIs. Today, Howard is concerned about North Korea’s nuclear capability. “If we can’t negotiate with them, they’ll attack South Korea.” He also recognizes that North Korea is more of a threat to the United States than the Arab countries. “I fear more for my family and not myself. I could cope, but I don’t want something drastic to happen to them.”

September 11 shocked Howard. Hearing about the lost lives made him very upset, especially since it happened on U.S. soil. Nevertheless, Howard is tired of hearing about 9/11 because he doesn’t think it compares at all to the trauma the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor caused.

“I lost a friend at Pearl Harbor and it still hurts,” he says.

 * * * * *

Sister Barbara taught English in Hiroshima 1974-1994. As a volunteer at the A-Bomb Hospital where the 1945 bomb victims were still being treated, she saw people who were still badly scarred and some who were blinded or made deaf.
“The hospital patients changed my whole attitude toward life,” says Sister Barbara, who grew up during World War II and was “gung ho” to win it. “But I could see how war affected people’s lives.” Sister Barbara used to go to the Hiroshima Peace Museum every August even though it made her physically ill.
“It hurts you inside,” says Sister Barbara. “You realize that people are human beings and that something terrible happened to them.” For Sister Barbara, the atomic bomb no longer means the end of a terrible war. Instead she understands that it has become a mechanism that allows one people to hold tremendous destructive power over another people.
“I’ve seen the results of atomic weapons,” she says. “It’s enough to make you ask: why did it have to happen?”

* * * * *

Every August 6 the city of Hiroshima holds memorial ceremonies to remember those who died from the bomb. Tens of thousands of people attend. The memorial ceremony begins with a march from the Peace Cathedral to the Cenotaph, the central monument of the whole complex and the site of the stone coffin that holds the Register of A-Bomb Victims. During the ceremony the name of each victim is read. At night the city holds a lantern float on the river and people buy candles for every family member lost to the bomb attack. Peacemakers all over the world have adopted the lantern float as a memorial of this day in their towns and cities. They insert prayers, thoughts and messages of peace in their lanterns.

Cenotaph at Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum and Park with Peace Dome in background

Peace Dome today

The Peace Dome after the bomb was dropped.  The building was the former Hiroshima Prefecture Industrial Promotion Hall, Where special products of Hiroshima were exhibited and various gatherings were held until the A-bomb was dropped. Since it was located just under thehypocenter, blast pressure was vertically exerted on the bulding and only the dome-shaped framework and part of the outer wall remained. It has come to be called "the A-bomb Dome", and it has come to symbolize to the people of the world "No More Hiroshimas". As years passed, however, the ruin has deteriorated further due to winds and rain. A civic movement was started calling for permanent preservation of the A-bomb Dome, and money was contributed from all over Japan, not to mention from Hiroshima. Within a year after the fund-raising campaign was started, the restoration funds had been collected. In August 1967, the reinforcing construction was completed. That is why the present A-bomb Dome gives a different impression from that in the photograph.(http://www.gensuikin.org)

The Peace Memorial Museum in Hiroshima provides a tangible record of the grim reality of that day and about the powerful impact that weapons of mass destruction can have on a city. The first half of the museum gives visitors a sense of life before the bombing; it showcases children’s toys, books and magazines as well as a model of the city before the bombing. The second half of the museum holds shocking wax figures of the victims: their clothes burned right off of them, their skin hanging in strips like tattered rags, flesh burned raw and sometimes exposed down to the bone, eye sockets gouged out.

Many pregnant women delivered deformed babies and women who carried eight-week-old fetuses bore children with smaller heads and lower intelligence. Children were also muted, that is, their bodies stopped growing. As a result, many young women exposed to the radiation vowed never to marry or to have children because they feared what they might produce. The message of the museum is “Ban nuclear weapons and make peace in the world.” Unfortunately, the world has not seen fit to heed this message. Here is an accounting of the nuclear weapons stockpiles in the world, according to the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), and published in Bulletin of Atomic Scientists:

Number of warheads and year of first test

United States 9,960 (5,735 active) -- 1945

Russia 16,000 (5,830 active) -- 1949

United Kingdom 200 -- 1952

France 350 -- 1960

China 130 -- 1964

India 70-120 -- 1974

Pakistan 30-52 -- 1998

North Korea 1-10 -- 2006

Israel 75-200 -- undeclared

Travelogue: 100th Anniversary of Machu Picchu Discovery

Light show for anniversary of the discovery of the famous "Lost City" (photo by Daily Mail)

 

Portions of this article appeared in the Huffington Post on January 16, 2012

Today, July 25, marks the 100^th anniversary of the discovery of the “Lost City” of Machu Picchu.

Indiana Jones (played by Harrison Ford) and Hiram Bingham

Hiram Bingham III (1875-1956), historian, explorer, treasure hunter and politician “discovered” the city that the Incas had abandoned 400 years before and which the Spanish conquistadors were never able to find.  (He was the inspiration behind Hollywood’s Indiana Jones character.)  About 1,000 people were living there at the time.

Although other explorers had “found” Machu Picchu years before, Bingham was the first to scientifically explore and publicize the place that had been covered in an overgrowth of jungle trees and vines.  The entire April 1913 issue of National Geographic was devoted to his work there. Bingham also wrote about it, notably Inca Land: Explorations in the Highlands of Peru (1922) and Lost City of the Incas, a 1948 best-seller.

Inca stone work

Machu Picchu was revered as a sacred place at a time quite a bit before the Incas “adopted” it as their own.  The five-square-mile complex of palaces, baths, temples, storage rooms and about 150 houses arranged around a central plaza was completely self-contained.  It was surrounded by agricultural terraces and watered by natural springs that could accommodate the population that lived there.  Here is an example of the stone cuttings that were fitted together without mortar.  Their construction was well-suited for earthquakes because they could sustain tremors without collapsing.

"These structures, carved from the gray granite of the mountaintop, are wonders of both architectural and aesthetic genius.  Many of the building blocks weigh 50 tons or more yet are so precisely sculpted and fitted together with such exactitude that the mortarless joints will not permit the insertion of even a think knife blade." Source:  http://www.sacredsites.com/americas/peru/machu_picchu.html

There is great speculation about why the Incas built Machu Picchu.  Some say it was an estate and retreat site for Pachacuti and his royal court to relax, hunt and entertain guests.  

Statue of Pachacuti in Machupicchu Pueblo in Peru

  Pachacuti Inca Yupanqui (or Pachacutec) was the ninth Sapa Inca (1438-1471/1472) of the Kingdom of Cuzco, which he transformed into the Inca Empire called Tawantinsuyu.  In less than a century the empire had grown from about 155,000 square miles in 1448, to 380,000 square miles in 1528, the year Pizarro and the Spanish conquistadors arrived.  In Quechua, the language of the Incas, Pachakutiq means “He who shakes the Earth,” and Yupanqui means "with honor". During his reign, Cuzco grew from a hamlet into the capital city of an empire that within three generations stretched from modern-day Ecuador to Chile (about the size of the eastern seaboard of the United States) and included Peru, Bolivia and northern Argentina.  Pachacuti is considered a national hero in modern Peru. During the 2000 Presidential elections, the mestizo Indian population gave candidate Alejandro Toledo the nickname Pachacuti.

Others speculate it was a nunnery or a training center for priestesses, although that theory has been debunked since skeletal remains there were half male and half female. 

Bingham thought it was the birthplace of Inca society but that theory has since been disproved, too, when archaeologists determined that it was Espirtu Pampa, about 80 miles west of the Inca capital city of Cuzco.  Actually, Bingham was looking for Vilcambamba la Vieja, the last stronghold of the Incas before the Spanish conquistadors took over, when he found Machu Picchu.

Machu Picchu is built on the flat top of a mountain 2,000 feet above the Urubamba River (named the Vilcamayo or Sacred River by the Incas) that encircles the five-square-mile area.  In the center of the plaza was a sundial, the Intihuatana stone (meaning “Hitching Post of the Sun”), that was dedicated to the god, Inti.  It has alignments with the rising and setting of the sun as well as the mountains during the spring (March 21) and fall (September 21) equinoxes, consequently, some scholars see the area as a “sacred landscape.” 

Intihuatana stone (meaning “Hitching Post of the Sun”)

"At midday on March 21st and September 21st, the sun stands almost directly above the pillar, creating no shadow at all.  For a moment the sun is 'tied' to the rock. At these periods, the Incas held ceremonies at the stone in which they 'tied the sun' to halt its northward movement in the sky. There is also an Intihuatana alignment with the December solstice (the summer solstice of the southern hemisphere), when at sunset the sun sinks behind Pumasillo (the Puma's claw), the most sacred mountain of the western Vilcabamba range, but the shrine itself is primarily equinoctial.”

"Shamanic legends tell that when a sensitive person touches their forehead to the Intihuatana stone it opens their vision to the spirit world. Intihuatana stones were the supremely sacred objects of the Inca people and were systematically searched for and destroyed by the Spaniards. When the Intihuatana stone was broken at an Inca shrine, the Inca believed that the deities of the place died or departed.

The Spaniards never found Machu Picchu, even though they suspected its existence, thus the Intihuatana stone and its resident spirits remain in their original position. The mountain top sanctuary fell into disuse and was abandoned some forty years after the Spanish took Cuzco in 1533. Supply lines linking the many Inca social centers were disrupted and the great empire came to an end.
Source:  Sacred Sights.com

Manco Capac and his sister, Mama Occlo

A 2009 study by Giulio Magli, an astrophysicist at the Polytechnic Institute in Milan, Italy, postulated that Machu Picchu was a pilgrimage site and a scaled-down version of a mythic landscape from the Inca religion.  Worshipers could symbolically relive the harrowing journey of Manco Capac and his sister, Mama Occlo, who both rose out of Lake Titicaca to found a great city.   

As legend has it, they were given a golden staff by the Sun, their father, who bade them settle permanently at whatever place the staff should sink into the earth. Through a series of adventures, geomantic resonances, and astronomical correspondences, the site of Cuzco was chosen.  According to the most frequently told story, four brothers, Manco Capac, Ayar Anca, Ayar Cachi, and Ayar Uchu, and their four sisters, Mama Ocllo, Mama Huaco, Mama Cura (or Ipacura), and Mama Raua, lived at the Paccari-Tampu [tavern of the dawn], several miles distant from Cuzo.  They gathered together the tribes of their locality, marched on the Cuzco Valley, and conquered the tribes living there.  Manco Capac had by his sister-wife, Mama Ocllo, a son called Sinchi Roca (or Cinchi Roca).  Authorities concede that the first Inca chief to be a historical figure was called Sinchi Roca (c. 1105-c. 1140).  Thus the foundation for an empire was laid.
Source:  Info Please 

Machu Picchu sits 9,090 feet above sea level and 300 miles south of Lima.  It is one of the most visited places in South America with 250,000 visitors per year.  Four years ago it was voted one of the Seven Wonders of the World in a global Internet poll.

Machu Picchu in 1911 as Bingham found it

After Bingham’s discovery, National Geographic magazine awarded him a $10,000 grant that was matched by Yale University where he was a professor of history and politics.  This money afforded him three more expeditions to the site, which also led to the taking of 44,000 pieces and sparked a long-standing controversy between him, Yale, and Peruvians.  This past March, 366 of those pieces were returned in time for the 100^th anniversary celebration.

Seven hundred guests celebrated the anniversary on July 8 complete with a symphony orchestra, fireworks and a breathtaking light show.  To read more and see photos of the celebration, see the Daily Mail story.   

Machu Picchu today

My Experience of Machu Picchu

I visited Machu Picchu in March 1986 as a W.K. Kellogg National Leadership Fellow.  It was a memorable experience, mostly because I felt I touched the hand of God here and understood my smallness compared to the immensity of God’s creation.  Here is an excerpt from my journal.

We arrived in Machu Picchu today and there are few words that can describe it. 

We rode the train from Cuzco to Machu Picchu trekking through the Andes Mountains, which are full of terraced agricultural land.  Sometimes we’d see Indian farmers working, sometimes a village of adobe-brick houses.  The colors were greens of many hues from very different looking plants.

Once we arrived at the train station we were met by the ever-present vendors and it was there I bought my hat, bargaining for $2 down from $3.

The train follows the Urubamba River

 
 On the train we descended to the Sacred Valley of the Incas and followed the Urubamba River, which is white water with muddy rapids that are so strong that no one has been able to navigate them and live.

Hiram Bingham Highway, a series of switchbacks up the mountain

When we arrived at Machu Picchu, we waited about half an hour to take the bus that climbed its way to the top of a mountain via switchbacks on the Hiram Bingham Highway.  Here, we would find the Lost City—as well as our hotel.

On the way down from the mountain, young boys compete with the bus to see who can get to the bottom first—only they go straight down through the forested area.  If they win, the tourists offer them a propina or tip, which usually amounts to about six cents. 

The mountains are very pointed peaks that thrust themselves straight up into the sky.  The clouds hover around the peaks and luckily for us, the sun was out.  But these clouds move about, changing the face of the unbelievable sight before us.  This is one small valley of the world but I feel dwarfed by their majesty and beauty.  I also feel less focused on myself and instead part of a whole, incredible universe.  I realize that, as a human being, I am certainly not in control of Nature, but a part of it--one small part of it. 

As I walked among the ruins of Machu Picchu I wondered how the Incas managed to remain subservient to God and Nature, especially since they built this fantastic city as a kind of "co-Creator" with God.  Most all of the rocks to build the city were cut from the surrounding mountains but in several places the structures were worked in the existing mountain.  Machu Picchu is an example of God and man working together to create beauty--and a city both.  When this co-creation occurs, a relationship emerges that promotes oneness with each other through oneness in the buildings. (Architecture reflects man’s view of his reality, according to Kenneth Clark in the PBS series, Civilization and Machu Picchu certainly illustrates this co-creation relationship between God and Man.)  However, sometimes, in his hubris, Man forgets that he is a part of the world and not the Creator.  That has led many times to the downfall of even the greatest of civilizations. 

The Incas who built Machu Picchu must have been very reflective people and very much in touch with their environment and their relationship with the gods.

Not one of the Kellogg fellows has been unable to be in awe of our environment before us.  I guess we really are made of clay feet and really do have the potential of being in unity with God/Earth when we experience places like this.  We just seem to work so hard at controlling Nature—or commodifying it—that we often miss or forget its essence and beauty.

I am reminded of the Amish who believe it is necessary to view God’s great earthly wonders because it helps to see His power and glory.  That's why they visit places like Niagara Falls.

The uplift of these mountains is tremendous—it goes straight up.  If you consider that the land was relatively horizontal and then uplifted into mountains, there must have been incredible change--and noise.  Geologically speaking, this area is a wonder.

Machu Picchu is the second oldest civilization that I have visited during the fellowship.  The first was Mexico City, the land of the Aztecs.  Walking among ruins of a once-great civilization affects me.  I try to imagine life here, but more importantly, I realize I'm walking the same trails that others before me walked--and I don't mean the tourists.  In this way I feel connected to history and to a people who created a great civilization.  What incredible people they must have been to build cities like this.

Our archeologist speaker at night said that the Incas are the Greeks of the Americas and should be regarded as such.  He estimated he is six percent Inca and he seemed very proud of it.  This pride was something the fellows would experience a lot as we got to know our speakers and guides.

Travelogue: Chicago Architecture Foundation Historic Skyscaper Tour

In front of "The Bean" in Millennium Park with El in a Chicago Bulls headpiece and Daisy with a flower made by the Balloon Lady

Only two students took advantage of the class field trip to Chicago today, which was part of the geography class:  Daisy Villa and Elvin (El) Caldwell, who drove. 

We met a 8 a.m., which was when I learned that two other students scheduled for the trip had to cancel at the last minute due to illness.  So we started our 2.5-hour journey westbound down I-94 to Chicago.  The students wanted to hear rock music on the radio and I was fine with that.  Once a month I take care of a 14-year-old girl who likes these stations so not only was I used to the music, but I was familiar with some of it!  Of course, that surprised the students—and me, too.

Daisy, who is from Los Angeles, was quite taken by the drive.  She is used to total development in her area and the city sits in desert lands.  So the greenery and open spaces that El and I take for granted, were a pleasant surprise to Daisy.  Traveling with people from other places really helps put what you are used to seeing in perspective. 

As we drove through Gary, Indiana, I informed them about how this area used to be filled with smoke from the steel plants.  Now the plants lie idle.

“This is what the Rust Belt looks like,” I said. 

As we drove over the Skyway, I also pointed out to them how close together the houses were in the industrial towns below.  They were utterly amazed.  Also, as we neared the city, we could all feel the anticipation of it, like we were about to encounter “the beast,” as I called it.  Soon we sighted the city's skyline around the bend of Lake Michigan.  What a dramatic entrance to this great city.  It's almost like a dream!

As we exited the freeway and approached the tall buildings, our excitement mounted.  The parklands around the University of Chicago are indeed impressive and once again Daisy noted this quality as something she is not used to seeing in LA.  The lake was beautiful as this large body of water at the city's edge makes for a dramatic sight, especially as we saw the tall buildings grow larger as we drove closer to them.  You just feel the city's greatness as you enter it.  I, who have been here many times, can still appreciate this approach to the city.  I feel my heart jump with excitement every time whether I’m in a car or on a train.

We arrived in the big city safely with just eight minutes to spare before our tour of the historic skyscrapers was to begin.  This tour is one of over 100 tours put on by the Chicago Architectural Foundation, which is strategically located right across the street from the Chicago Art Institute.

We parked in the underground Grant Park Garage on Michigan Ave but had difficulty finding an exit so we walked out on the driveway.

Model of the city at the Chicago Architecture Foundation

“This is unsafe,” said Daisy.

“I know,” I answered, “but I can't find the stairway or the pedestrian walkway and we'll be late for the tour if we don't go this way.”

Thankfully, we escaped the garage without incident and made it to our tour just in time.  Actually, there were so many people for this tour that we were split up into three groups with a docent leading each group.

As we went through the tour, I took photos (since neither Daisy nor El had a camera).  The Architecture Foundation now provides earphones to each participant to make it easier to hear the docent's excellent history of Chicago architecture.  What was really exciting for the students was to recognize the various parts of the buildings.  We had just studied a bit of architecture in class!  They'd knock each other on the arm and smile broadly at me.  I felt as though I had accomplished something in my teaching!  Their other big revelation on this tour was that the lobbies of the buildings gave them an understanding of how attention to detail brings out the beauty in the built environment.  They were dazzled by the fine artwork exercised on the buildings—and I was excited that they recognized it!    

Juxtaposition of new "Sears Tower" with an historic skyscraper

Sculptures on Board of Trade Building

Our docent explains the renovation of an historic skyscraper with the El in the background

Lobby of Roosevelt University

Elegant entrance of Fisher Building

Santa Fe Building where Daniel Burnham designed the "new Chicago"

Rounded bay window of a building needing renovation

After our tour we consulted the docent for some suggestions of a place to eat.  El mentioned the Billy Goat Tavern and the docent affirmed our choice and directed us to its location.  We made our way north toward the Chicago River but on our way stopped in Millennium Park to check out “the Bean” as well Crown Fountain—two outstanding must-sees.  We got as close to it as we could so we could feel the mist, as Daisy suggested.  Different faces appear on Crown Fountain and it is so funky that it's difficult to take your eyes off of it.

Our reflection at the Cloudgate "the Bean" sculpture

Traveling with students is a particularly wonderful experience because their curiosity drives the journey.  For this I was grateful.  They wanted to get close to Anish Kapoor's Cloudgate sculpture, a.k.a. “the Bean,” in order to see themselves in it.  So crazy a thing it is in the way the bends of the object reflected our images.  I'm not necessarily one for kooky modern art objects but this one is a definite exception—and it is exceptional!  We also looked at the Frank Gehry-designed Pritzker Pavilion, an outdoor auditorium, and marveled at its construction, as odd as it is.  I'd really like to attend a concert here someday because it's really made for acoustics and I'm sure performers' offerings are greatly enhanced by them.  It would likely be an experience of untold proportions!

Millennium Park is now a Chicago landmark although it is less than ten years old.  Completed in July 2004, construction began in the late 1990's over what was once an unused railyard—and an eyesore. 

Posing with the Crown Fountain

We walked north and took note of the architecture of the buildings.  When we reached the river, I told the students to prepare themselves for a unique adventure in crossing the bridge.  You automatically assume such structures are safe and you can see people crossing.  However, as you walk over the heavy metal you can feel it bounce as cars cross over it.  It is also a little unnerving when you look through the grating of the roadway and see the dark green water below. 

The bridge is also the site of old Fort Dearborn, which was constructed by early settlers as a shelter and a defense against the native peoples who lived there.  You can see a pictorial history of the founding of Chicago in the various relief works on the bridge. 

Once we crossed the river we made our way to the Billy Goat Tavern, which is a bit hidden.  After picking out a native Chicagoan who could direct us, we found our way to the tavern by going down the stairs on the north side of the bridge.  It was the only shop in the area, so you can't miss it. 

The World Famous Billy Goat Tavern, a Chicago legend since 1934, has a motto:

"Cheezborger! Cheezborger!
No fries, cheeps! No Pepsi, Coke!"?

Upon entering the bar, our host from behind the counter yelled at us to get in line and give our order.

“A hamburger, please” said El.

“You don't want that,” said the order taker with the big black mustache and a paper hat that advertised the bar, “you want a double hamborger.”

“OK,” said El.  “I'm easy.”

“Do you have french fries?” he asked.

“No, you want potato chips.  Plain or BBQ?”

The order taker then seemed to speak to Daisy in Spanish but when she gave her order in Spanish he couldn't continue with the conversation very well.  We eventually asked one of the staff circulating the bar what nationality this place was and found out it was Greek.

We each ordered a double “hamborger”, chips and soft drink as we watched the Chicago White Sox kick the stuffing out of the LA Dodgers on the TV that was on our side of the bar.  A NY Mets and NY Yankees game was in the other corner of the room only the sound was muted so as to let people hear how the home team's game was going.

It had been a long day, which started out at 8 a.m. (EDT) and included a 2.5-hour drive to Chicago, a two-hour walking tour, and a one-hour walk around Millennium Park and north over the river to Billy’s.  So we savored our lunch, watched a bit of the Sox baseball game, and talked with each other for maybe an hour.  We interacted with the wait staff and eventually discovered we could get free refills on our drink, which we all took.  I would highly recommend this place both for its “hamborger” as well as the experience. 

I took photos in case I get a spot on the Food Channel and later learned who the owner was:  an old Greek man.  While I didn't have any paper for an interview with him—or time, since I was with the students—this place is the type of place to return to for a report, say for the Food Channel.  It’s bizarre, simple, and fun....the kind of place you’d want to go for a cold one.  It was obvious that the Billy Goat Tavern is popular as the doors of the entrance keep swinging open with more customers.  We even saw a small food tour group come through!  That's a good sign that we had met “the real Chicago” in a place that the locals patronize.  Later we learned that journalists from the Chicago Tribune have made Billy’s a hangout for years.  I knew there was something about it I liked!

After our lunch I thought we would head home but El and Daisy were up for some more time in the city, this time by the lakeside.  We walked over the bridge again, took some photos, and finally found a pathway to the lake as we followed the crowd of local residents who were likewise intending to spend some time there on this sunny, hot, but pleasant day.  (The weather report had predicted thundershowers, but fortunately, they were nowhere in sight.)

On our way to the lake the students recognized the tremendous heat sink of the city but soon found out how a small, green parkway cooled us down.  We retreated there for some heat relief.  The shadows of the tall skyscrapers also helped make the air cooler.  I mentioned that Chicago is trying to do something about this unbearable heat by planting roof gardens, and that this, too, was a project of the visionary Mayor Richard Daley during his 20-year administration that included much renovation and revitalization of the city.  While he remained a controversial figure in his methods, he did make his mark in beautifying and updating the city that we—and a multitude of visitors and residents—enjoy.

Cancer survivors memorial with Field Museum in background

 Then we came upon the northern section of Millennium Park that was dedicated to cancer survivors.  I don't think I've ever seen such a piece of public space.  El noticed that the center path of the memorial led straight south to the front portico of the Field Museum.  How well thought out that was in planning out this part of the city, especially since we were in the midst of some pretty awesome and pretty high skyscrapers that could have obscured the view.  That’s one good thing about a city on a grid!

Daisy and El on Lake Michigan shoreline.

Finally, we found the entrance to the lakeside park and found a spot on one of the full-bloom and deliciously pink cherry trees.  This section was part of the marina with several sailboats anchored in the water, so we looked at them as we talked.  Occasionally, a boat would travel the waters.  We also watched people as they walked the sidewalk or biked or trotted or roller-skated past us.  And we sat there for another 60 to 90 minutes just talking on subjects that covered the gamut of our human experience.  Most enjoyable, relaxing, and a unique experience for me to spend that much time with K students.  This time with El and Daisy could only be rivaled by last year's excursion with my First Year Seminar students when we spent the day on the other side of this lake in South Haven.  Such precious moments.  As we left I made note of our spot so that when I visit here again sometime in the future I can recall this marvelous day.  (I would find it two weeks later while I was on a bus trip to a Chicago Cubs game!)

Suddenly, around 4 pm the air began to change.  It felt like a storm was coming.  I suggested we return to the car and head home.  Fortunately, we were not that far from the garage, however, looking for an entrance to the underground structure was not easy.  While we were in the cool underground structure, we missed our turn to the garage and ended up near the tracks of the intra-city trains.  The maps on the wall were of no help so we had to navigate by intuition.  Fortunately, we found a door that led us to the section of the lot right where our car was parked. 

Once we got above ground on Michigan Avenue, it was apparent that many other people were heading out of the city, too, and I feared we'd be caught in a real live Chicago traffic jam.  As El concentrated on traffic, I concentrated on signage and attempted to skirt the congestion.  Once again, the Chicago grid helped us out as we zigzagged away from the traffic.  Although I was edgy about correctly leading us out of “the beast,” El maintained a cool head in getting us through it all. 

After about an hour of travel east on I-94, lightening and thunder began to rage outside our car.  It was only 5 p.m. but the cloud cover made it look like dusk.  This was a bit unsettling to Daisy who is not used to such natural displays in LA.  Must be lake effect, I said, just as all weather patterns in this area are blamed.  Nevertheless, I am reminded of how large our country is and how diverse our climatic regions are!  Eventually it began to rain, but luckily it was steady and easy for El to drive through—until we got closer to Kalamazoo.  That’s when it started to pour.  We exited the freeway about 7:30 and as we drove down Oakland Drive, we saw the damage a storm had done.  Several tree limbs had been downed undoubtedly by lightening.  And, just before we made our turn on Lovell part of an old tree had been felled by some pretty vicious lightening.  The tree covered half of the road and El had to steer around it.

During our car ride back to Kalamazoo, we listened to rock music on the radio.  El would change the stations unless an oldie came up and bid me to start singing.  On our way back Daisy was exhausted and stretched out on the back seat, she snoozed a bit as the music came through her ear buds.  Sleeping also helped her get through the disturbing lightning.  El and I talked through most of the trip home, which was uneventful except for one traffic slowdown and, of course, the thunder and lightening show. 

Inside the Santa Fe Building where the Chicago Architecture Foundation resides with the majestic marble beaux artes staircase.

We pulled into Kalamazoo just before 8 p.m. and filled up the gas tank of our college-owned car.  We dropped off Daisy at Chrissy Hall.  El and I returned the car to FacMan and I drove him home to his house on Stanwood, just a block away from campus.  I was exhausted but satisfied with this wonderful trip.  I also made it home in time for a snack, an email look-see and my favorite TV show, “Army Wives.”

We had all had a wonderful time and expressed this to each other several times.  Travel is a good thing to do.  And, when it is done with K students, it frequently turns out to be the best of experiences.