Yes, it was just another one of those endless Peace Movement meetings. But this one would prove to be different, life changing in the whisper of a young woman. For that night, in Washington, D.C., I would take the first step toward Emily and the Mountaintop days.
Why had I traveled so far to go to that mountain, her mountain? It was her mountain for she had hiked these hills and valleys, camped on the ledges, and loved this place long before I had ever seen her face. At times, it seemed to me she was as old as the mountain itself, as young as a fawn, and as pure as the stream, this woman of deep soul, grace, and beauty. I came to this place to escape the ugly world, looking for peace, love, and tranquility. Were those things to be found in the woman or in the mountain? Did they meld one into the other, like hot lava flowing to the edge of the ocean creating land? Emily had a physical beauty that would have frozen the Greek gods in place and a soul so beautiful that Mary the mother of God would smile with pride. Long black hair, deep brown eyes, a perfect God-given face: she was so tender yet so strong she could pierce your thoughts and your body at the same time. Delicate, she stood only five foot three, but her body was so perfectly proportioned it defied geometry. You wanted to lay her down and at the same time place her so high that no one could touch her, but not on a pedestal, for she would have rebelled against being placed above anyone and certainly not on a throne, for even the idea of that would have seemed sacrilegious to her. She possessed a strong personality, a soul and a mind that only the equally strong of will and mind could even dream of challenging. Her heart and mind were pure, harboring no evil desire or thought, and no gauge could measure her physical desires and spirit. Emily walked the hills and mountains of this sacred land, giving to the earth, resisting those who tried to destroy it, and expecting nothing in return but the happiness she gained from following her heart and soul.
As I left that mountain, I remembered the first words she spoke in that meeting. Someone asked why we should sacrifice so much for those we do not even know, and Emily stood for the first time, far back in the room, and gently said, “Wouldn’t you want them to do the same for us?” There was a hush in the room and a pounding in my heart.
(Emily, to be continued)
In the podcast there are more random thoughts as well as a rock-and-roll timeline. Join me on the shores of Rambling Harbor.