There aren't many moments in my life that I can take absolute credit for...and this is yet another example.
I woke up one morning with a burning need to meet Mr. Berry before it was 'too late'. So, I called my dad the following day and asked if he would be interested in an adventure. After responding with more enthusiasm to the idea than any sane person should, he told me he would call back with some dates in June that we could have to attempt the impossible. We decided that the weekend of June 16th would be the best for both of us, so I booked plane tickets and we called grandmother to ask if we could stay at her house as she lives in Louisville, just short drive to Port Royal. She had decided to downsize, and was planning on moving by July 1st, so the stars began to align. We drove down to Kentucky and as luck would have it, my cousin Maurine was going to be there at the same time to help grandmother pack. Fortune got us there on Saturday, June 16th, just in time for lunch, and we set off with my homemade scones and some Washington Marionberry Jam to go meet our hero. (After Maurine found out we were going on this trip, she watched "Look and See" and read some of his poetry. A fan was born.) Earlier that day, I had done some sleuthing online to try and find out where he lived. After reading articles and blogs detailing the exact journey we were planning on taking, I was able to pinpoint where I (fingers crossed) thought our best chances were for his farm. I relayed this to my family on the drive over to Port Royal, and they were surprised that I had had no idea where he lived. They assumed I did. Ahhh....assumptions.... However incredulous everyone was when we first started this insanity, their doubts quickly turned when I pointed out his driveway. They further disappeared when the young man who was mowing his lawn (Avery?) said that they wouldn't mind in the least if we knocked on the door. So, with dad pushing Maurine and I forward, I knocked. And wouldn't you know it! Tanya answered! Albeit, she was rather cordial and it is understandable. We didn't come with any notice, which is quite rude in hindsight...but honestly. We never thought they would be at home. Anyway... After inquiring as to whether or not Mr. Berry would mind taking a minute to meet with us, she went inside to check. Apparently, he WAS willing, as the next face to grace that doorway was owned by the very man himself. As he opened the door, Maurine was the first person he greeted. She gave him her name, and he responded with "Why hello. I'm Wendell." We were smitten. He invited us to sit on his porch, and we had the best 15 minutes discussing farming, teaching, the state of the world, and how he is having trouble seeing the fruits of his labor with regard to advocacy. We didn't have the answers he was looking for, although he asked quite a few questions (tongue-tied in the presence of greatness), but I hope that by him asking these questions, we are spurred to action. Wendell Berry has been asking why we don't understand why big agriculture has killed the farm? Why do we not see what pesticides do to our land? Why do we not see what we are doing to our communities when we disregard the needs of one another? Why parents allow their children to stay inside all day on devices when the world beckons them to play? To run? To be? Why have we come so far from what made us and our world beautiful, dignified, and prosperous? Why have we changed definitions and turned them around so much that we can no longer see the truth? Wendell asked this and so much more...and I consider myself to be one of the luckiest people in the world to have gotten to see the sparkle in his blue eyes as he greets perfect strangers as friends. Especially the creepy, stalker strangers that Tanya saw. When I think about the good in the world. The gentle, compassionate individuals who have wrought a change that they will never get to see, but are essential to...I will always think of Wendell Berry. He's getting up there in years, but while his flesh may be wearing thin, he is, as he said, "Not to weak to hold a pencil." |