Oregon 2005 (10)

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

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13. Fast Forward

Saturday Sept. 24, 2005. Saturday morning Dave and Keli and Karis and Ben and I pile into their van and head for Crater Lake. Traveling with Ben is far easier than it used to be, apparently, but partly this is because they are working from long experience. One of them tells me, the secret is to always have one more thing in reserve, and they have a whole bag of tricks ready.

Ben’s game boy keeps him happy for hours at a time. (Because of the noises the game boy makes, they humorously refer to it as the GDGB.) And there is the miniature TV (it plugs into the car’s cigarette lighter) that plays DVDs that both Ben and Karis like to watch. Those are the two main tricks that stick in my mind. I know there are others. Karis, bless her, amuses herself.

Continue reading Oregon 2005 (10)

Oregon 2005 (9)

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

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12. Dirk

 

 

 Thursday Sept. 22, 2005. Not the least of the benefits I have derived from my connection with The Monroe Institute is that I have begun so many friendships at programs there. The day after Michael and I return from Crater Lake, and he returns to his everyday life, my friend Dirk comes down to see Lost Valley and spend the day. Dirk, who lives in Salem, is a native Oregonian and very proud of it. He sees that I like Oregon, and is unsurprised but satisfied.

 

Continue reading Oregon 2005 (9)

Oregon 2005 (8)

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

11. Crater Lake

Tuesday Sept. 20, 2005. Michael Langevin and I arrive at Crater Lake at mid-morning, coming down the Rim Road that skirts the western edge of the crater. I pull in to the first turnout, anxious to connect with the energy of what I knew had to be one of the sacred places of the earth. The earth has no shortage of power spots, but you don’t everyday come across a place like this drowned volcano crater, so intimately connected with fire and water both. The rim road is far above the surface of the lake, and the lake surface extends four miles in one direction, six in another. Standing as close to the edge as I can, I look out and down, wanting to connect with it, not just gaze at it. I close my eyes and move my energy, feeling my connection to the earth – and am staggered by what seems almost a physical impact. The place has presence! I feel it, and feel instantly more alive, more joyous, as if someone had turned up my rheostat.

Continue reading Oregon 2005 (8)

Oregon 2005 (7)

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

10. Lost Valley

Saturday Sept. 17, 2005. Originally, I timed my visit so that I could participate in Lost Valley’s Community Education Week. But a few days before my departure date, they cancelled the CEW because only one other person had signed up. I came anyway, figuring that if nothing else, I’d get to see Keli and her family. And I was still curious, still trying to feel my way toward the future. Was life in a community the best future for me? Was it even a possibility?

LVEC has been around a good while now, having been founded in 1989. That’s a lot of life experience, a lot of members having come and gone over the years. Anyone who has ever tried to run a small business can imagine the intricacies of a self-governing community held together mostly by shared (or perhaps overlapping, partially-shared) ideals and visions. Ideals are all very well, and are indeed essential, but the exigencies of everyday life have a way of conflicting with them, creating sometimes painful dilemmas.

Continue reading Oregon 2005 (7)

Oregon 2005 (6)

Posted on by Frank DeMarco

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9. Tillamook Air Museum

Saturday Sept. 17, 2005.

Standing on the deck of the lightship Columbia in Astoria, chatting with the caretaker, I had told him I was going to be driving down the coast, and asked him what he would recommend seeing. He mentioned two or three things, but the one that stuck was the air museum at Tillamook. I made a note, and the next day, here I am.

 

It’s huge. The top of that arch is something like 190 feet in the air. Eight full-sized blimps sheltered there during the war, and eight more in its companion building. The buildings were made entirely of wood, because during the war metal had to be reserved for building ships and trucks and tanks and artillery pieces and shells and communication wire and all the million other things needed in an all-out war effort. Each hangar comprised something like two million board-feet of timber, designed and slapped together as quickly as possible, because of the desperate need.

Continue reading Oregon 2005 (6)