experience Woodstock. For years afterward, we called ourselves ‘Woodstock Nation’.”
“It sure must have been an interesting time to be alive. I wish I could go back in time and see it for myself,” Richard remarked, more to himself than to Tony.
“I wish you could, man. I wish we both could. It was groovy. We celebrated life.” As Tony said these words, he slapped Richard gently on the shoulder. “In those days, we wanted to be self-sufficient, independent of the establishment—findin’ identity and direction within ourselves, and not from the discordant voices of authority.”
As Richard drove home at the end of the shift, he pondered the conversation with Tony and asked himself if anyone can ever be completely independent of social institutions. He wondered if Tony had been one of the thousands of hippies who’d relied on government food stamps to eat.
10
Prelude to Crisis
The bright, warm days of summer were fading into fall with cooler nights and the smell of wood smoke in the air. The cannery responded to signs of the new season with slower production and reduced hours for workers such as Richard. The resulting freedom meant that Richard could once again plan weekend activities with Mac and others, including his new friend Tony. Richard found Tony’s descriptions of the hippie era fascinating. Although it became increasingly apparent to Richard that Tony, to a great extent, lived in the past. Once when Richard hinted at this in a conversation, Tony replied, “Well, everything groovy happened twenty-five years ago.” When Tony spoke of the protest marches, university sit-ins, draft-card burnings, speeches against the Vietnam War, and the music of the period, he conjured up vivid images that made those times live again for Richard. As their work at the cannery came to an end, both men expressed their desire to maintain their friendship.
The third-night after his cannery job ended, Richard thought, “I feel like I should be getting ready for work.” Weeks of that routine had been ingrained into his system. Though it hadn’t taken long to adjust to the graveyard shift, he wondered how long it would take his circadian rhythms to re-adjust.
Alone in the living room, he relaxed in a comfortable, old rocking chair. From a nearby table, he took a novel he had started and soon became engrossed. He had just reached a point where the hero confronted his nemesis when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“What! Oh, Uncle Mac! I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”
“I’m sorry laddie, I dinna mean to startle ye. But I wanted to let ye know. I have your family’s photo album I’d been searchin’ for. It has pictures o’ your mither and father and your brother and sister. I thought ye might have time now to look at it.”
“Sure.”
The two men sat down on the sofa, and Mac put the album on Richard’s lap. As Richard turned the pages, Mac commented, sometimes saying where and when a photograph was taken.
“I certainly had a nice looking family,” said Richard sadly. Pointing at one photo, he declared, “I like this shot of the whole family. It looks like I’m included too, because my mother is expecting. Wait a minute though—that couldn’t be, my brother and sister are too young.” Richard looked at his uncle for an explanation.
“You’re right, o’ course, laddie. At the time this photo was taken, your mom was carryin’ her third child. In this photo, I think . . . she’s aboot seven months along. If it turned out to be a boy, she planned to name him Douglas. I canna tell ye what went wrong, but your brother was stillborn. I’m sorry to have to tell ye, but ye should know. We should always remember Douglas.”
“You know, Douglas and I have something in common—we both never knew our parents or brother and sister.”
“I was thinkin’ aboot him just last night. Ye see, my boy, if Douglas had lived, tomorrow would be his birthday; he’d be 39 years old.”
Richard and his uncle looked at, and talked about, family members in the album until past midnight. Richard concentrated hard on the faces of his relatives, imprinting them in his mind in an effort to see them as a family that would have loved him, rather than as strangers who didn’t know him. He wondered how they would view God’s purpose for his life.
“Over the years, I’ve seen how the things you do, Uncle Mac, always come back to the purpose God has given you for your life. I wish I knew God’s purpose for my life. The only purpose in my life has been my physical survival, and that of the people I love.”
“Stay close to the Lord, laddie, and He will show ye, in His gude time, how your life can have a larger purpose than just survival, as vital as that is.”
“By ‘larger’, Uncle, do you mean something important?”
“Not necessarily; ‘larger’ in the sense that it will give priority to the spiritual over the material. It will enable ye to please God and serve others ahead o’ your own comfort.”
“If my family had lived, maybe they would have taught me to be less self-centered, so that I could see now what He’d have me do with my life.”
“Aye. Your dear family would have been a benefit to ye. But, son, remember what the Word tells us, ‘And we know that in all things God works for the gude o’ those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.’”
“I want to find God’s purpose for my life—I realize I’ll never be truly happy until I do.”
“We may find God’s purpose, or it may find us, as it found Paul on the road to Damascus—like a light from Heaven.”
Mac suddenly looked at his watch “It’s been a bonny chin wag, but it’s time I called it a day, laddie. I’ll see ye at breakfast.”
“Okay. Thank you for showing me the album,” said Richard, starting to hand the album back to his uncle.
“No Richard, the album is yours now. I saved it for ye.” As Mac said this, he patted his nephew’s hand, smiled, and turned to head up the stairs.
Richard was up early the next morning; Tony was coming to pick him up for a drive to the site of a hippie commune where Tony had lived in the 70s. After dressing and spending time in devotions, he headed downstairs to discover that Mac had already eaten breakfast and was outdoors working in his garden. Richard ate a cold breakfast that sacrificed nutrition for speed, then went out and sat on the porch step to wait for the old Volkswagen van to appear. “Tony’s van will give the neighbors something to talk about,” chuckled Richard to himself.
At that moment a red Volkswagen van pulled up in front of Mac’s house. On the side of the van, facing Richard, Tony had painted a large yellow peace symbol. It seemed to Richard that the peace symbol looked like an upside down rake. He wondered what hippies wanted raked up. Underneath the peace symbol was the picture of a salmon jumping out of a stream. Printed under this scene were the words: “SAVE OUR ENVIRONMENT.”
Cranking down the van window, Tony yelled, “Hi, Richard! Your limo is here!”
Richard stood up and waved. Walking briskly toward the van, he paused at the sidewalk and turned to try to catch a glimpse of his uncle. Unsuccessful, he hurried around the van and climbed into it on the passenger side, as Tony held open the door.
“Use this rope, Rich, to tie the door shut. This here is a customized van,” laughed Tony.
As
