Sunday, July 20—Long Beach
Flashback, summer of ’67—Frankfort, MichiganAs my parents’ lifelong passion for humanitarian work extended itself to us, the offspring, and did not confine itself to other lands, we were obliged to cooperate.As a sixteen year old, trying to navigate life in the USA and being a teenager in changing times, my desires were in running wild with the wind and exploring friendships and mischief.Northern Michigan is a cherry orchard hub and the height of this harvest is July. Migrant workers gather in droves to climb the ladders and pick the fruit.Guess who was commandeered to join them.What began as one more ‘shy’ step up, as this was a community and I an outsider, in addition to the fact that there was a system, that included knowing which cherries were which, which trees were ready, what ladders to take, what buckets to fill and how full to fill them, and never mind being covered in sticky black juice and SPEED….turned out to be one of the most wonderful summers for my teenage self. From India years, I was used to not being the same color or speaking the same native language but once I felt ‘familiar enough’ every single curtain dropped and I was in the tribe…with no special allowances. It was grueling work. It was long hours in whatever weather happened to blow in, but at the end of the day, meal time, and children, who had been cared for at a church, joined and pots of food and camaraderie. What a gift, for one brief shining moment to experience yet another world.And yes…afterwards I met up with Bill and we swam and swam in fresh clear waters and danced by the light of the moon…so to speak.