Things pass so quickly before our eyes. Which scandal? How much did she steal? Who did he email? What about North Korea? Help for Darfur? Those poor children.
I received an email from a longtime acquaintance, telling me how she spent her Sunday. No, it wasn't about politics. Years ago, she told me she was a Republican, whereupon I asked her why. She is certainly smart enough to have switched over by now.
No, her Sunday morning was spent in Church and then onto her next activity, which she describes so well, below. I have her full permission to share this story, which I chose to do, because for some reason it made me feel good, in a people to people to people kind of way.
First, go to church, and try to listen to the sermon, but... The motorcycles keep driving by outside, one louder than the next, in large sets. Only Mark and I knew why, and I suspect the minister was getting frustrated as he tried to adjust his voice to be heard, then softened again as the bikes rode away, then louder as another group of bikes rode past.
We had "healing stations" today, and I went to the pastor, to request his blessing on the event later this morning... And explained that all those noisy motorcycles he heard during his sermon would be joined by Mark and I on our (much quieter) Gold Wing, for a ride out to Lancaster to support building the new Nickel Mine School. He blessed the ride, but laughed that he would NEVER be caught on a motorcycle. And me with my crutch, and my lousy mobility! Ah, he doesn't know what he's missing.
Mark played well in praise band, and I must say he was more patient than I, as our service dragged on past 9:30. As soon as the last note was played, he slipped out to change into jeans, as I packed his bass, control board, and music (yes, I went to church in jeans - for the second time in a year, but the first is another story). He returned to grab his equipment and hurried to the van, where he deposited it, and locked the van. I met him there, and grabbed his chaps - he figured I would need them more than he - his legs are protected behind the fairing, but I'm the passenger, and it was cold this morning - it had warmed up to only 42 by then.
We rode quickly up the hill to the local Harley Davidson dealer, to be shocked by the HUGE collection of motorcycles waiting there - Harleys, mostly, but also quite a few Hondas, and a few Yamahas, Kawasaki's, and some apparently custom-made choppers and such. There were even two
three-wheeled, covered, cycle-engine-driven vehicles that drew a lot of attention! And as Mark said, there was one thing we've never seen before: so much leather in one place! We were no different - leather jackets, leather gloves, and for me, Mark's leather chaps. We made our donation on
the way in, and received our white ribbons to tie on our left arms. We lined up with the rest, double file, as far as the eye could see and farther, and waited.
A few minutes later, the parade started. They shut down our highway north and south so that we could all make the left out of the parking lot... Pair after pair after pair of motorcycles, some with one rider, some with two, some riders were men, some were women, and still others, passengers, were kids. I've never in my life seen so many motorcycles, much less in one place.
Arriving as late as we did, we were near the back of the line. As we passed through light after light, the police, often mounted on cycles themselves, stopped traffic so that we could continue, headlights on, all clearly
together. I don't know how long the group took to pass through a single intersection, but I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be late for church, waiting for this group to pass!
Unfortunately, in many ways, this was a funeral parade. The group, organized by the local Harley dealer, was gathered to celebrate the young Amish girls killed in the Nickel Mine School, and the support the Amish community as they raised and rebuilt the school, and support the teacher and
the families who had been devastated by the events so fresh in our minds.
We rode about 40 miles, from Eagle (Downingtown) to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Upon our arrival there was a brief ceremony, where the Amish had a representative read a statement, and accept our donation. That's when we
learned the full extent of this grass-roots effort: 963 cycles from Eagle alone (another group joined us in Lancaster from Maryland and Delaware, not
far away), had donated $34,600 this morning, to the Amish community.
The Amish have always been very supportive neighbors, but they generally keep to their own community. Today, the Amish accepted the support of their neighbors, and allowed us to include them in our community. It's not much,
but I hope it will help.
Our morning ended with the leisurely ride back to Downingtown, where we rode alone, but surrounded by other riders and cars, all waving and honking and
supporting each other, most bearing the white ribbons on our arms, showing our support for the Amish community, our neighbors.
And us being there, as I mentioned before, is all Cathee's fault. Yup, Cathee, from down-east Maine. We live a mile from the starting point of the ride today, my husband was born and spent his early years in Lancaster not far west of here, but we hadn't heard about it... Cathee did. And told us. And so we rode!
Thanks, Cathee!
Jeanne