A Journey to Remember

What follows is a more detailed account of the four week adventure that Alison and I embarked upon the day following my last day of work on the National Mall. I alluded to it in the last message that I sent, but for those of you who were captivated on the edge of your seat wondering what all we had done, this will hopefully satisfy your curiosity. :)

This story begins on a cold Monday morning. So cold in fact that I had to first scrape ice off of my windshield before we could depart. There was a nice dusting of snow on the ground, the first snow of the year in fact, just in time for us to leave. That first day we drove through Virginia, Maryland, and West Virginia to Louisville, Kentucky. We found ourselves driving through a snowstorm from Eastern Maryland, all the way through West Virginia into Kentucky, a perfect way to begin the trip! We awoke to next morning to find that the skies had cleared, which allowed us to stop off at two National Park Sites while heading south through Kentucky to Tennessee. The first was the Lincoln Birthplace where I posed next to the reconstruction of the cabin where Lincoln was born, now housed inside the first Lincoln Memorial, designed by the same man who designed the Jefferson Memorial here in DC. From there we headed a little further south and west to Mammoth Cave, the last major park service cave on my list (I visited Wind Cave, Jewel Cave, Lehman Cave, and Carlsbad Caverns last year), and the longest known cave system in the world. We enjoyed a great tour of the cave, learning far more history than I expected including the fact that during the war of 1812 they had an expansive salt peter mining operation inside the cave to make gunpowder for the American Army.

After a brief stop to take pictures at Dinosaur World, we ate an obligatory meal at KFC before leaving Kentucky. We continued along much of the length of Tennessee from Nashville to Memphis and into Little Rock where we spent our second night. Since we were in Little Rock we decided we clearly needed to stop at the Little Rock Central High School, the site of the famous entrance of the Little Rock Nine in 1957, the first major test of forced integration in a public high school following Brown vs. The Board of Education. Soon after crossing into Oklahoma we found ourselves driving through one reservation after another, poignant reminders of the lasting impact of the Indian Removal Policy and forced relocation of many  tribes in the 1830s. By the time we got to the panhandle of Texas we were getting pretty tired so when we saw the Big Texan in Amarillo we felt we had to stop and take a look. This restaurant is the home of the 72 oz steak (that is 4.5 pounds) and if you can eat it in under an hour you get it for free. If you fail you pay $72 for the dinner. We did not try. One look at a cooked 72 oz steak was enough to convince me that I would never be able to consume that in an hour!

We instead continued on to Albuquerque, New Mexico, arriving late and leaving the next morning to head on to Arizona. We hit snow again as we approached the Arizona border, but it slackened off enough to allow us to make a quick circuit through Petrified Forest National Park before driving along the Mogollon Rim down to Phoenix. The snow came back along the rim, obscuring the view, but creating an impressive winter wonderland! After a night at my home in Phoenix we headed west again, traveling through Joshua Tree National Park on our way to Valencia, California, our destination for the next night. The next day dawned grey and dreary with lots of rain so our trip up the coast was not nearly as impressive as it might have been. Still, we did enjoy seeing the ocean once again and stopped off in Santa Barbara and at UCSB to visit Alison's alma matter.

That night brought us safely to Alison's home in Livermore where we spent the next several days with a side trip into San Francisco to enjoy the sites of the city at Christmas. The next chapter of the journey took us to Alison's family's cabin overlooking Lake Tahoe where we celebrated Christmas. It snowed on the 23rd and started again the night of Christmas Day, giving us a nice white Christmas. The snow was still falling the morning of the 26th, which made for a slow and deliberate exit as we headed around the lake and into Nevada on our way back to Phoenix where we stayed through January 2. Or rather, we stayed in Arizona through January 2. We also took a bit of a detour up to the ranch on the 27th. In addition to celebrating Christmas we also played cowboy and helped move cattle from one pasture to another, fired by Grandfather's M-1 Garand rifle from WWII, and visited the Grand Canyon.

On January 2 Alison flew to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida so she could join her family in watching Stanford triumph at the Orange Bowl. I left Phoenix myself the following morning, driving all the way to Ft. Lauderdale in the next two days to meet Alison and explore a bit of Florida. We first went to the Everglades and enjoyed an incredible array of birds, beautiful sunny weather, alligators and crocodiles, and our 7th National Park on the trip. Before leaving the area we asked a ranger at the visitor center if she knew where we could get a good piece of Key Lime Pie and she immediately suggested Alabama Jacks, a wonderful little restaurant right along the water in Key Largo, just before the bridge crossing the Florida Keys. It was a splendid suggestion and we enjoyed the most amazing Key Lime Pie I have ever encountered before heading north to Fort Wilderness and a Disney Adventure.

In celebration of Alison's 25th birthday we spent the next two days at Disney World, the first day at Hollywood Studios and the second at the Magic Kingdom. Alison wore her special birthday pen and garnered a lot of attention from the Disney folk and we tried to maximize the time we had there. I feel like we did pretty well in achieving that goal. We rode the main coaster at Hollywood studios five times, the tower of terror three times, saw both the big stunt shows (one was Indiana Jones and the other a high speed car chase), and visited nearly every other ride or attraction of note in the park. We began the next day with eight consecutive trips on Space Mountain in less than two hours before spending the rest of the day hitting the remainder of the park, ending with the fireworks show followed by our 3rd and 4th rides on big thunder mountain. It was great fun to stay at Fort Wilderness (the disney campgrounds), especially because that meant we got to take a boat from the campgrounds to the Magic Kingdom.

On Sunday we left Disney World and headed north at last, stopping in Wilmington, North Carolina for the night. We awoke the next morning to find ourselves nearly snowed in so we left rather quickly in an attempt to drive out of the storm. We were already too late, however, and found ourselves right in the midst of it. It was bad enough that I had to stop and put chains on for the first time during our adventure! We did make it out of the storm eventually and arrived back in DC about an hour before Alison needed to go to class on Monday night.

So there you have it. You can officially rest easier knowing the full account of the 8,259.9 mile four week adventure of Garrett and Alison across the country and back again!

There and Back Again: A Ranger's Holiday

Life is a journey. This refrain is one that has oft appeared in reflections that I have written, but is no less true by virtue of repetition. Not only is life a journey, but by its very nature an unexpected and sometimes redefining series of moments, connected together in such a way that it forms us into who we are. Our lives are intended to be lived in such a manner, embracing the mystery and the unknown quantities that we are presented with that we might respond to the situations we find ourselves in as best we are able.

I thought I knew what the future was going to hold for me, at least in some respect. I truly believed that I had come here to our nation's capitol to work as a park ranger on the National Mall. I am good at the job, I love doing it, and I appeared to arrive here at the right time to find myself in such a position. On December 12 I worked my last day as a ranger on the Mall, leaving the next morning to embark upon what would become an epic 8259.9 mile journey spanning four weeks and taking me across the country and back again, passing through 18 states along the way. Now I have returned to Washington only to find my hopes dashed upon the rocks of a fairly dismal reality.

Just yesterday I received official word that the upper management at the National Mall has decided to throw out the job announcement that I was in the running for entirely, hiring no one at all for the position, but rather hiring far fewer staff off of a separate announcement that I could not apply for because I do not have permanent status with the Park Service. This decision has come in response to rumors of budget cuts and a hiring freeze from congress and as a direct result of the failure of congress to pass a budget. They are not willing to go through the process of hiring from that application with the ominous shadow of congressional inaction and potential budgetary reaction hanging over their heads. Unfortunately for me that undercuts any chance of me being hired in a permanent capacity on the Mall.

So here I am, back in Washington with a rather large gaping canyon in front of me. It is a canyon I do not know how to cross, a canyon I had genuinely thought I would not have to cross, a canyon of uncertainty marked by the reality that the decisions of those in managerial positions and those who sit in the halls of congress have dramatic impact upon the lives of people like me. It is a place I did not want to be, a place I did not think I would find myself, a place that tries the souls of man. But here I find myself all the same. I don't know how I am going to pay rent next month. I don't know how I am going to live here for very long at all. But I do know that God called me to this place on purpose, and that that purpose has not yet been fulfilled. I thought I saw the path laid out before me, but I have been reminded that you can never be sure about such paths. Life is by nature a journey, a journey characterized by uncertainty and mystery.

In my way of thinking I can't understand why things would point so clearly toward me getting a permanent position on the mall only to have the rug pulled out from under me entirely. It doesn't make sense. But that is exactly what it is, so now I have to decide how I am going to react.

It is well that this news has come following the aforementioned cross country journey and not in the midst of it, as I very well might not have taken the trip at all had I known with certainty that this was coming. Instead I was blessed by the opportunity to see much of the country I had never seen before, visit seven national parks (Mammoth Cave, Lincoln Birthplace, Little Rock Central High School, Petrified Forest, Joshua Tree, Grand Canyon, and Everglades), spend time with Alison and her family in California, visit Lake Tahoe in the majesty of a winter wonderland, watch the snow fall upon the lake on Christmas Day, receive and fire my Grandfather's M-1 rifle from WWII, move cattle across the ranch on a beautiful winter day, spend time with my family in Arizona, and visit Disneyworld for two days on Alison's birthday.

Now in coming back from the journey I have found myself upon another. I had expected to return more like Bilbo in The Hobbit having triumphantly completed the journey and committed to settling back into normal life. Instead my return to the shire is much more like that of the heroes of Lord of the Rings in the part of the story they left out of the film version. Sometimes the homecoming turns from relaxation and triumph into the beginning of another journey, another task, another kind of story altogether. But the shire is still there if you look for it.

It would be easy to be embittered against congress, against management, against the park itself. It would be easy to focus on the negative, to feel deceived and abused, taken advantage of and used. But that doesn't make for much of a story. A year ago I stood at the place where Martin Luther King Jr delivered his "I have a dream" speech, facing a crowd of more than 500 people as the stereo broke, leaving me stranded just as I most needed the assistance. I found myself at a crossroads and in that moment, when I embraced the opportunity and decided to give the speech myself, I set myself on a course. It is a course I am still walking today. So rather than wallowing in despair I went to work again yesterday, one year after that experience, this time attired not as a ranger but as a volunteer.

The day was completely different. Whereas last year was a beautiful sunny day and thousands of people came out looking to see the place where the speech had been given, yesterday was cold and dreary and far fewer people came out. I didn't give the speech before a crown of 500 people. But I did make a difference to some. I spoke to one woman from Germany for 25 minutes, painting a picture of why that speech and the events of that day were significant and exploring the true meaning of freedom. Perhaps that conversation is the reason I went out as a volunteer and froze yesterday. Perhaps there is a larger purpose and plan at work. Perhaps I will never know. Perhaps, in the end, it was one moment of many that make up a life, moments where we have to decided how we will view the circumstances we find ourselves in and how we will respond. Moments when we must determine what is worth fighting for and how we will use the time we have before us. Moments that come to define our purpose and existence upon this earth.

In the end the words of Gandalf continue to ring true, that all we have to decide is what we are going to do with the time that has been given to us.

No Matter How Long it May Take us...the American People in Their Righteous Might Will Win Through to Absolute Victory

The day has come once again, that day which altered the path of this nation, which changed the course of human history. A day that shall forever live in infamy. On December 8, 1941 President Franklin Delano Roosevelt addressed congress with the following words...         (I edited a bit so you wouldn't have as much to read. Ellipsis indicate where words were removed)

Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with the government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific...

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. Very many American lives have been lost...

Always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us. 

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make very certain that this form of treachery shall never endanger us again...

With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God.

I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, Dec. 7, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.

These words would come to redefine the character of not only this nation but also the very war itself. I have come to understand the significance of these words and of the events which occurred in the early morning hours of December 7, 1941 much more during this past year as I have been charged with the task of interpreting both the FDR and WWII Memorials. How does one explain such events to someone who lived through them? How does one connect such events to the lives of eighth graders from rural Tennessee? How are such events continuing to impact and influence each of our lives today? It is such questions that drive the life of a park ranger on the National Mall and it is fitting, I think, that here, as I face the final five days before my position here on the Mall is terminated, I find myself reflecting once again upon such thoughts.

69 years ago this morning 2,402 Americans lost their lives in less than 90 minutes. Nearly half of these lives were lost on the USS Arizona alone, one of four battleships who sank to the ocean floor of Pearl Harbor that morning. Unlike many other ships lost in WWII the Arizona was destined to be more than simply a sunken relic. She has become an enduring symbol, not only of what had happened that day in Hawaii, but also as an iconic memorial to the lives that were lost, and most of all of what it is that we as a nation united around and stood up for in the greatest international crises the world has ever seen.

Unlike anything before or sense in the history of this nation WWII united the country around a common cause. It touched the lives of everyone and the nation was forever changed when we once again emerged from the fires.
Etched around the American flag flying at the WWII Memorial are the words, "Americans came to liberate, not to conquer, to restore freedom and to end tyranny." I can think of no better summary of what it was that we were fighting for, standing up to the powers of tyranny, ignorance, and oppression and proclaiming that indeed, all men are created equal.

We were woefully unprepared when the war began, but as the country unified behind a common cause the nation was transformed into a powerhouse and ultimately emerged as the preeminent world power. On May 29, 1942 General George C. Marshall proclaimed that "we are determined that before the sun sets on this terrible struggle our flag will be recognized throughout the world as a symbol of freedom on the one hand and of overwhelming force on the other." It would seem as though his words have proven to be true.

This is a day for remembering a great tragedy and a great loss of life, but it is also a symbol for a larger war, a war which claimed 404,800 American lives and more than 50 million human lives around the world. It is a symbol not only of those who died, but of all of the 16 million US men and women who served during WWII.

As we, this holiday season, continue to face nearly 10% unemployment nationwide, as we face remarkable deficit spending and call for change and reform and congress, let us take a moment to remember what it is that this nation is founded upon, what it is that we are intended to represent, and what this day means for our identity.

Every day more of those who served in WWII pass away from this earth. Among the most recent losses is Major Dick Winters, the commander of Easy Company made famous in Ambrose's book and Hanks' HBO production of "Band of Brothers." There are few who typify this spirit better than he. We would do well not to let what they stood for and represented pass away with them.

A Day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our Beneficent Father who Dwelleth in the Heavens

November is rapidly coming to an end and with it my time in service as a ranger at the National Mall in Washington DC. I have officially entered into my final two weeks in service. It is very strange to think that I will be leaving so soon! Many people have asked me to tell them if anything further happens in regard to the permanent positions here on the mall. Well… I don’t have much to tell. I did finally receive a notice of results which gave me my rating for the position. I did well, but it remains to be seen if I did well enough. And nothing further has been done with the position since then. The supervisors have yet to receive a list of names, so I have no idea if I even have a chance. I will most likely not know until after congress decides to pass a budget as, at present, it is really not possible to hire any new positions without knowing how much money is actually going to be available. So once congress decides to do something, things will move forward once again. Until then I will be unemployed as of two weeks from today.

It would be easy to grow discouraged and lose hope, but I am fighting very strongly to not only not let myself do so, but also to focus on the many things that I do have to be thankful for. And there are no shortage of those! I am blessed indeed and have come to see that very clearly in recent days. I have a splendid job that has allowed me to do some incredible things here in Washington, have been given an excellent place to live, have an amazingly supportive and loving family, and a girl with whom I am truly blessed to share my heart, just to name a few!

Appropriately this last week marked a celebration of Thanksgiving, a time of looking to Almighty God in recognition for the blessings and gifts He has lavished upon us. That tradition began during the Civil War, during a time where things looked bleak indeed, but in which President Lincoln called the nation to rise above that immediate perspective and to look upon the world on a higher plane.

On October 3, 1863 he issued the following proclamation…

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity…peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict.
 
No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy.


It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.


-Abraham Lincoln,  October 3, 1863

This first celebration of Thanksgiving was followed in consecutive years by a further commitment to the same. Thus we all spent this past Thursday taking part in this celebration.

These last two weeks since last I wrote have been filled with moments of great blessing, not the least of which was spending Thanksgiving Day up at the ranch, sharing dinner with 14 other people gathered around a common table. Amongst the many other moments I could write about, a few stand out above the rest.

Today was the last bike tour, not only for me, but for the entire season. Because another ranger had to back out I was able to step in and take this final tour, a tour about Haunted History, or more simply put, ghost stories. It was great fun. I had no idea there were so many fun stories here in Washington concerning spirits, specters, and ghosts. Included amongst them are the ghost of the murdered son of Francis Scott Key warning Secretary of State Seward of an impending assassination attempt, Abigail Adams doing laundry in the East Room of the White House, Winston Churchill walking naked from the bathroom to his bedroom in the White House and encountering Lincoln standing by the fireplace, and a Demon Cat that appears at the capitol shortly before a national tragedy.

On Friday, November 19 I gave my final special program, a dual presentation  with another ranger in which I portrayed a Union soldier who had borne witness to both the Battle of Gettysburg and the
dedication of the National Cemetery. I spoke of many things over the course of the program, but by far the most moving for me was when I actually gave the Gettysburg Address, speaking the same 272 words that Lincoln spoke 147 years before on that very day with the words inscribed behind me on his memorial. Twice when I was finished I was greeted with rousing applause from the audience.

Last Wednesday I journeyed to Philadelphia with Alison for a day filled with potential for unknown adventure. We went with little agenda, deciding to let events take their course as the day unfolded before us.
And unfold it did! We went on a tour of Independence Hall followed by a visit to the house where Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence, and stopped by Christ Church on the way to an excellent hole in the wall joint called Nick’s Roast Beef where we ate lunch (a Philly Cheese Steak for Alison and a Philly-not-cheese-steak for me). We only got about halfway through lunch though, before realizing it was later than we thought and having to frantically pack up and run to barely make it on a special tour of the Todd and Bishop White houses (which only ten people get to visit each day).

By random chance that morning Alison had read that the Franklin Institute was free on the third Wednesday of the month, which just so happened to be the day we were in Philly. So we asked at the visitor center, but no one, not the rangers or anyone else, knew about it. By calling the institute we eventually confirmed that, indeed, it was open late that night and had free admission. Not only that, but we also found out that just down the road was the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the stairs of which are featured as the culmination of the famous run in “Rocky.” Well that was far too much of a temptation so we took a bus down to the museum, and after finishing our sandwiches from lunch along with a curious squirrel we participated in the obligatory reenactment of the running up the stairs scene and watched the sun setting overlooking the city. After a brief stop by the Rodin museum we headed over to the Franklin Institute. Contained therein we found a planetarium, a special 3D movie about mummies, a hands on exhibit about trains, a huge model of a human heart you could walk through, and a special exhibit about electricity (appropriate don’t you think?) in which you could shock each other, which we naturally had to do repeatedly.
Earlier in the day I had made a reservation at City Tavern, which we barely made by running to the tavern after the bus dropped us back off by the visitor center. We then proceeded to enjoy a lovely dinner by candlelight in the “most genteel tavern in America” as John Adams put it.  Not bad for a day of random adventure!

Sometimes when we can’t see the way ahead, the best course of action is to embrace the mysterious unknown and to find joy in the journey itself, for it is often the journey and not the destination that brings true meaning and significance into our lives.

Living always in dangerous wonder

The Embrace of the Unexpected Opportunity

I would generally say that I truly love what I do here. There are times of frustration and aggravation, as would be the case in most any position, but there are far more times of joy and excitement, and perhaps even a deep sense of honor that I am gifted with the opportunity of doing that which I am doing. It is these latter moments that have convinced me that this is such an excellent fit for me, and the place in which I should be serving and working to bring God's kingdom to earth in tangible ways.

Most days I am assigned to work at a specific memorial and recently (due to the departure of many of the rangers due to term expiration in most cases) that has increasingly meant working at the Washington Monument. This can certainly get tiring after a while but even amidst such a routine there are still moments that shine forth. When I reported for duty a week ago after my days off I was given an opportunity to take advantage of just such a moment. The education specialist at the park had arranged a series of special programs/tours for a gifted education school in Virginia. Each day of the week this facility pulls different gifted students out of their normal classrooms and brings them together in a different setting to give them a greater opportunity to learn and expand their cognitive abilities. These 4th and 5th grade students had recently been studying structures and building methods so their teachers arranged this special tour of the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument with our education specialist to learn more about them. So for five days in a row these teachers brought a different group of kids to the mall for that very purpose.

When I showed up for work on Veteran's Day I expected to be sent to one of the special ceremonies at one of the war memorials, but instead I was asked if I would be willing to assist in giving this special tour that day. After replying in the affirmative I learned that I would be solely responsible for taking 15 kids and two teachers down to the Lincoln Memorial, back to and up the Washington Monument, and then on a special walk down tour of the monument. As the last item on that list is something I have never done before in any context with visitors and I have never done anything officially with a group of school kids this was an especially interesting opportunity.

It proved to be infinitely better than I could have imagined. These kids were the model of elementary scholarship. I was amazed both by their level of knowledge and their level of engagement. They constantly kept me busy answering questions for the three hours I spent with them, and consistently impressed me with their quick and correct answers to questions I put to them. Since it was such a good group I tried to make it as special as possible, taking them around the back of the Lincoln Memorial and pointing out things I would not normally have shown them, and especially emphasizing how significant it was that they got to walk down the Washington Monument. As previously mentioned I have never given a tour of the interior of the monument, but thankfully I have paid attention to little bits of information picked up here and there and have a pretty good working knowledge of both the construction methods and the stories behind many of the commemorative stones lining those interior walls, and was able to pull it off.

An unforeseen and unexpected request turned into a wonderful opportunity to help establish a connection to these symbols of America that these kids just might carry with them the rest of their lives.

Another similar opportunity was thrust upon me the very next day. This time I was asked to assist in giving the special VIP tour for the Secretary of the Interior. Normally a single GS-9 Ranger does this tour, but there were more people on this particular one than could fit in a single van, so I soon found myself driving a 15 passenger van around the city giving a tour of not only each of the memorials, but of Arlington National Cemetery, and the city in general. Most of the official interpretation at each stop was done by the GS-9, but I did do all the talking at the Washington Monument and at the Lincoln Memorial, and did a great deal of impromptu interpretation and answering of questions while driving and walking around. I brought in all sorts of random knowledge I have accumulated from other rangers, reading, and my own exploration as a tourist and ended up sounding like I really knew what I was talking about.

The next two days brought further opportunities for special tours, this time on a bike. Saturday was a special tour on sites and events connected with the Civil War and the month of November, a completely random idea that had never really been fleshed out. It was not until the hour before the tour that the ranger leading it and I really discussed what we were going to do, and as it played out, he did the introduction and the final stop and I did the two hours in between, taking a group of 15 visitors around the city and weaving an account of events that changed the course of the war and this nation that had ties to the month of November. For a tour that was largely put together in the hours immediately proceeding it, things turned out quite well!

Sunday provided the final installment of my four days of special tours with a special bike tour on the Gettysburg Address and the events that led to it. This time I was with the same ranger with whom  I have planned and done several other bike tours as well as the university lecture on the siege of Petersburg. We only had five people on this tour, one of whom was Alison, but we put on the full show nonetheless. We didn't get to much of the information I had hoped to cover as both of us leading the tour have a propensity to get overexcited and talk far more than we should to stay on schedule, but it was still great fun and another excellent opportunity for me to learn and grow.

With the completion of these four days I officially entered into my final four weeks here at the National Mall. While I have great hope that I will be able to come back in a permanent capacity, unless things suddenly change in the next few weeks I will be addressing the public here on the mall for the last time in this position on Sunday, December 12. Though this thought it a sad one, I also feel that I have made the most of the time that I have had here, giving my all to embrace the position and convey the significance of these stories to all those whom I encounter that they might have a greater sense of their role in this ongoing story.

For Such a Time as This

Last Saturday, October 30, 2010 John Stewart and Stephen Colbert staged their Rally to Restore Sanity and/or fear on the National Mall. It was a major media event with people converging upon the mall from all directions. My estimate of the crowd as seen from the top of the Washington Monument was 180,000. The paper put it at 200,000. That's a fair number of people supporting the idea of restoring sanity and finding a middle way.

I fully support such a notion in concept, but I must sadly report that, having observed hundreds of the people who had journeyed to the capitol in order to accomplish such a feat, sanity was most assuredly not restored on Saturday. In fact, I was consistently amazed at the lack of sanity and even basic intelligence exhibited by many of the attendees. It was a far cry from a picture of hope for this nation.

That is not to say that sanity and hope were not evident on the mall on Saturday though. Far from it. I saw evidence of such qualities not amongst the multitudes flocking to Colbert and Stewart, but rather from my vantage point at the WWII Memorial that day. We had three honor flights come in, each bringing men who had traveled across the country to view their memorial, each a veteran of the war, coming to commune together in a shared brotherhood in celebration of the values that their service and sacrifice represented. As has often been the case before I was deeply moved as these men came to the memorial, and their attitudes and sanity stood in stark contrast to the hundreds of other visitors (nearly all of whom were there for the rally) I spoke to that day. It was a keen reminder of what sacrifice, loyalty, liberty, and patriotism look like. I have one particular image that is indelibly etched into my mind as a symbol of this nation and its greatest generation. It is an image of three brothers, all of whom had volunteered and fought separately in the war, two in the navy and one in the army. None of the three had visited the memorial before, and they came together that day, unified in a common purpose, common values, and by common blood. These men at 90, 94, and 96 years old, displayed a sanity and appreciation rarely seen in this country today.

We live in significant times. The election this past Tuesday will bear great significance in years to come, potentially helping to set this nation onto a new course. In such times as we find ourselves in, we would do well to remember moments like the three brothers at the WWII Memorial, moments of love, compassion, and brotherhood. This is a recurring theme that I have encountered in many different forms here in my time on the National Mall. This is a time of both death and rebirth. A few weeks ago I wrote about the season as a symbol death in the midst of life. I am reminded once more of the truth of that imagery and its potency in my own life.

I am potentially facing the end of my tenure as a park ranger on the National Mall, and as I look into the future I know not what will come. But I know that God has called me to this place in this time and I am going to continue to embrace what time I have remaining wholeheartedly. I continue to be blessed by the wonderful opportunities to reach out and touch the lives of others in what I do. In recent days I experienced this at both the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials. Last week I was sent to Lincoln alone, finding myself responsible for everything at the memorial that day. It would have been easy to be bitter and frustrated and let that come through in my talks and interactions with visitors, but I instead decided to use it as an opportunity to touch as many people as possible. Exhausting as it was I saw it bear immediate fruit, as three of my programs ran for nearly an hour as visitors were drawn into a picture of freedom, equality, and unity, a vision that permeates not only the memorial, but the fabric of this nation.

A few days later something very similar happened at Jefferson. I was leaving at 1:00 that day, but was assigned the 12:00 program. I had intended to cut it short to make sure I made it back to the ranger station with enough time to leave at 1:00, but as people gathered to listen I was drawn into the moment and that program too ended up stretching to nearly an hour as I painted a picture of the birthpains of a nation founded upon the God given rights of liberty and freedom. It is a powerful story and the stars aligned that day in such a way that that particular program emerged as one of the best I have ever given.

When I did leave work I picked up Alison and went to Prince William Forest Park to hike and appreciate the wonderful colors of Autumn. It proved to be a poignant depiction of the vibrancy of life filling the world around us, filling me with a great appreciation of the myriad ways in which each of us are blessed in this life each and every day. This same feeling was intensified a few days later when Alison and I traveled along skyline drive in Shenandoah, a land surrounded by the colors of the season. We were a few days late to experience the full impact of Autumn and we arrived just in time to be hit by a rainstorm, but that didn't stop us from finding ways to experience and appreciate the wonder around us all the same. We hiked along the bearfence trail to a splendid overlook stretching nearly 360 degrees around the entirety of the blue ridge mountains and Shenandoah Valley. If I had not already believed that the National Parks were America's best idea, that view would have convinced me!

So deeply is the spirit of the park service ingrained within me in fact that when we carved pumpkins just before halloween (on a dare from Alison) I took it upon myself to carve the image of the NPS arrowhead into my pumpkin. It took a great deal of exacting care and my set of precision exacto knifes, but I succeeded in producing a passable representation.

The weather has turned here as well. Apparently on November 1 it decided it was time to be cold. I have officially switched to the winter uniform once again in preparation of cold to come. And I have continued the charge of splitting and stacking firewood in preparation for winter. Over the last several weeks I have produced a modest stack of firewood along the back wall of the house. Included in the pictures attached to this email is one of Alison having just successfully aided me in that charge as an acting lumberjack for the day.

There is change on the horizon. In six weeks I might well work my last day on the National Mall. But then again I might find myself in the position of a permanent ranger, firmly established as a representative of our nation's history indefinitely. It's hard to know how to proceed when one does not know the future. But perhaps it is in such times that we are best able to appreciate joy and wonder, best able to see the world as God sees it, to realize the roll we play in the larger story of the redemption of creation. Perhaps it is when we see the world in such as fashion that we are most sane. Perhaps much that has happened in our past has led us here to this juncture in this moment. Perhaps the many blessings God has lavished upon us have prepared us to deal with the formation of hope and restoration of sanity around us. Perhaps we were brought to this place, exactly where we are, in the roles we are in, for a time such as this.

Encountering new frontiers

There is something compelling about the mysterious, the undefined, about uncertainty and the unexpected. Something that calls to you, that draws you in, holds you close, and compels you to continue to move forward in search of an answer. Sometimes we don't even know the question we are seeking to answer, and yet we search after the great unknown, seeking the very edge of the undefined frontiers of our existence.

And if we don't give in, don't shy away, and continue along the journey we often find that the frontiers that we come across are wholly different that what we thought we were searching for when we began our quest. It is in such moments, moments of encountering new frontiers and forging new pathways that we find ourselves closest to the heart of God, nearest to understanding what it is like to see the world through His eyes, held in the majestic embrace of wonder and majesty.

Today was a perfect fall day, a day in which the sun broke out and warmed the earth, offset by beautiful puffy white clouds and complemented by a nearly full moon looking across the sky at the rising sun.

It was a day characterized by a brisk wind, consistently causing the leaves to dance in the trees, leaves in many different phases of changing colors, symbols of the path of life, not remaining static, but embracing the change and shimmering in multi-colored brilliance before letting go of the arm which has nourished them to carpet the pathways with a blanket of colorful and crunchy magnificence.

This blanket obscures the pathways, making it more difficult to see the way ahead, yet simultaneously offering a unique and splendid opportunity to walk a familiar path in a new light.

Sometimes it is only in letting go like these leaves that we can appreciate the world from a new and uniquely vibrant perspective.

On October 15 I embarked on a journey, a journey across the country to simultaneously celebrate the nuptials of a dear and familiar friend and embrace an unknown future marked by unfamiliar relationships rising up from a new path into an unknown frontier I have begun to walk with captivated heart in tandem with a new and unexpected manifestation of brilliance and wonder.

Alison and I arrived in Livermore and engaged in a series of forays into super delicious culinary pleasures, a mission which would demand our attention and allegiance for the next several days. Such forays included stops at cupcakes, ice cream, chinese food, cookies, an array of wedding delicacies, tri tip, Mr. Pickles sandwiches, afternoon tea, and a requisite final detour to in-in-out burger.

Somewhere amidst the eating we did manage to find time to attend the wedding of a dear friend along with Kristen and Corey, celebrating an embarkation upon a new and uncertain path. Perhaps the greatest highlight of the evening was the entirely unexpected arrival of an account of the journey of bride and groom in the form of a musical, designed by the musical loving mother of the bride.

Further moments of great reflection and wonder along the path included a visit to the longest burning lightbulb in history, still burning after 109 years in Livermore Fire Station #6; riding in a '68 Shelby GT 350 Cobra Mustang convertible to go get the aforementioned in-in-out burger; driving through Santa Cruz with the top down in Alison's Volkswagen Bug convertible; and wading in the ocean along the boardwalk in Santa Cruz.

Perhaps the most poignant moment of the journey was one wholly unforeseen, the seemingly innocuous arrival of an old trunk that had belonged to Alison's grandfather at the front door courtesy of closing a storage unit and seeking a new home for that which had been contained therein.

Curious as to what this unknown trunk might be I joined others in going to peruse it to see if entry might be gained. As soon as I encountered the trunk I noticed it had the appearance of a WWII era foot locker, and was instantly intrigued. The quest to gain entry being successful, I soon found myself looking at a complete set of WWII uniforms of a US army infantry captain. The foot locker included the full sets of pants, shirt, coat for each variety of uniform, along with the appropriate hats and belts and numerous other accouterments. It was like walking into a miniature museum right in front of me and finding a pathway covered in a blanket of beautiful and wondrous leaves, leaves out of history, growing into tangible reality before my eyes.

It is not when we follow the safe well marked path that we come to value and understand the life we live, but rather when we find ourselves immersed in wonder and mystery that we encounter unforeseen frontiers that open our eyes to a new and greater appreciation of the value of footlockers rising out of the leaf strewn pathway.