I learned early that moving from one world to the next, from one phase of life to the next part of the life journey was difficult but well worth the effort. I believe I hid this story of how my days in seminary began for two possible reasons. One, I was a little ashamed of being so poor and being from a culture that was more worried that I might learn strange things in seminary, rather than seeing anything odd about driving a little mattress flying car across the country. I did not want people to see me as Jethro from the Beverly Hillbillies show. However, two, I think part of my reason for not mentioning all the events that nearly prevented me from making my way to the next phase of my life, was because in the wonderful culture I grew up in, this was simply just another day of finding my way in the world.

Our world changed... and perhaps with it, so all of us has too. I hope for a world where the differences we have with one another do not encourage the harm and threat of those we deem to be different. I am just storyteller and simply offer this story of a long time ago that took place on an island that looked like a turkey.

During the days when I was privileged to see the world through the eyes of my youth, I remember knowing that my friends were both Democrats and Republicans, they were Baptists and Catholics and even an atheist, if my memory is true. I knew some were liberal and others conservative, but those terms seemed secondary and only served as descriptors to our diversity and not impediments to our friendship.

I miss that island! I loved that place for all the things it allowed me to become back then. My love for that island is not the kind that would compel me to give up my future travels just to go back for one more visit. In fact, it was my time on that island with my friends in the Turkey Island Gang that taught me to take risks and walk down lots of other paths to other uncertain possibilities, even if I often had to mow those paths myself. I will always love that island for the way it pushed me to explore other places!

I owe a lot to my grandfather for the person I have become. When I was young, I saw him as nothing short of a superhero with amazing powers to make his and other's lives better. What I did not then, but learned later, is that he really was a hero who saved the lives of millions during World War II. He and so many of that generation fought against evil in this world unleashed by Adolph Hitler. He was one of those soldiers who first came upon the concentration camp at Dachau. The interesting thing is that my grandfather chose never to speak of his time during war, I share it here, in part, because he and so many others deserve to known as hero's. We need more of them in our world.