The long awaited night finally arrived and this evening Dan arrived at my house with all his equipment. I finished up the dinner while he set up microphones and ran wires around my living room.
What a fascinating man he is and what a mystery! He just came from cutting and baling hay on the farm he shares with his parents and sister when he is in town. They use it for the cattle they still keep. His other home is right on the lake in Chicago, the exact opposite of this bucolic place here in the mountains. He answers my questions, always in a back handed way that leaves me feeling satisfied, but does not really answer much at all.
Who is this man who travels all over the world with a knife on one hip, a weapon on the other and religious material from all cultures in his backpack? I know what he’s been, a journalist for a major New York newspaper, a peacekeeper, a man who lays the dead to rest in any language, or religion. A man who has baptized people in moccasin infested ponds in between the moving feet of a choir whose job is to keep the snakes way and he buys his green tea when he’s in Asia. A man who walks as easily with dignitaries as he does with me.
Tonight he recorded the stories of my life. Soon we will go to his home and finish this project among his Victorian gardens and cows munching home grown hay.
What a great life I have!
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