The Peace Pilgrim covered dish was okay, but it seems to me that what I observed doesn't bode well for any "peace movement" that might some day rise from the dead.
For openers, the group of about forty included exactly five under-fifties (or maybe sixties) attending. One was Helene's grandson (she's the sister of the Peace Pilgrim, is 99, and hosted the gathering); two had been dragged there by their mother, a boy about 16 and a mentally handicapped young woman of 25; the other two were a college-aged couple. I'm not sure of their circumstances, but they may have been there simply as friends of the grandson.
So the grey-hairs were in the extreme majority and I'm afraid this reflects the "peace movement" as a whole. When they (we) die off, where is the core of young activists ready to stand for peace?
Here's another discouraging happening:
http://www.pressofatlanticcity.com/communities/galloway/peace-pilgrim-fans-gather-in-galloway-township-home-to-remember/article_96acc346-ef6a-11e3-bfdc-001a4bcf887a.html
Note the woman at about the 1:13 mark, who introduces herself as the originator of the Peace Pilgrim Pot Luck. (A fleeting shot of me walking by in a straw hat is at 1:42.) We both deplored militarism--I thought--but when I casually referred to Obama as a warmonger, she actually gasped and said, "No, he isn't!" After a few more seconds of heated conversation, I got the message: Bush is responsible for taking us to war, it isn't the sainted Obama's fault he hasn't been able to end it, and the republicans are the epitome of evil who foil O.'s goodness at every turn. And this was at a Peace Pilgrim gathering! Which she says she initiated! With friends like that, peace doesn't need...
Oh, well, it was pleasant under the trees. I chatted with Lorraine, an interesting woman who was happy to tell me she's 92. Recognized some people from last year's covered dish, including Bob and Mead B.; he bears a remarkable resemblance to my son's friend, P.J.S. and is 13 years older than his wife. I was delighted to see Linda G., who was there with her Filipino friend, Mercedes. We happily reunited and before long, I'll get in touch with her and the three of us will meet for lunch.
The food was good--my salad was all eaten--and late in the afternoon, we sat on the spacious lawn and sang Vietnam-era peace songs, with Bob accompanying on guitar. He is Quaker, and so are a number of other attendees. That fact seems innocuous, even hopeful, but is it? If peace advocates are influenced in that direction by their faith and if, as I've researched, membership in religions is so rapidly dwindling, what does that say about the future of the peace movement? Seems to me we need a strong base across the populace who desire peace simply because the alternative is both horrific and stupid. Fat chance.
And here's something else to ponder: Where are the present-day anti-war songs sung by well-known groups, and not your nephew Harold at Aunt Dot's barbecue? I find it sadly significant that I haven't heard any--or even heard of any--within the last decade or longer.
Some Lighter Notes: Got my weekly Skype call from darling daughter, Ellen, and we discussed my move to the left coast--prominently, the money part--among other topics. I caught the "One More Day" segment from Les Miserables at the Tony Awards and was thrilled to see little Gaten Matarazzo,* carried on another actor's shoulders, as he thrust his arm in the air to signify defiance of the powers-that-be. Wish we could recruit him for the peace movement.
*Gaten is the 10-year-old son of Heather Matarazzo, with whom I performed in Steel Magnolias, my first stage appearance. I met him at the cast party--he's a neat kid--along with his brother and sister, who also act and sing.
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2 comments:
I voted for Peace Pilgrim. When I went back to read
the bios, I should have voted for Clara Mass.
Pat, thanks for voting. Your comment prompted me to look up Clara Masass(?). I see she was a nurse who allowed herself to be a Yellow Fever victim. She and Mildred were both heroic and we can be proud of our Jersey forebearers.
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