"Close to Heaven"
Darlington, Maryland
May 11, 1983
Dear Folks,
Walking across northern Virginia in the springtime may be the closest I'll ever come to finding heaven on this earth.
What an incredibly peaceful region, with lush rolling hills, quiet lanes perfumed with pink and white dogwood trees, and apple trees with blossoms whiter than the sun! The large, old stone farmhouses are surrounded by stone walls and white picket fences.
Like the land, the people radiated contentment. Smiling and waving "Good day!" seemed as natural to them as breathing. No one knew who I was or why I was walking, yet you'd have thought they'd known me all my life.
It seemed unreal that only over one hundred years ago, Americans--some in blue uniforms, others in gray--were spilling their blood on these soft pastures.
I took my time passing through the beautiful upper Shenandoah Valley, knowing that all too soon I would on the hot, hard cement and in the roaring traffic of Washingon, D.C. I savored the countryside and delighted in seeing one thoroughbred horse farm after another.
Mark Twain would have been proud of the Huck Finn in me--no pressures, no responsibilities, nothing but warm sunshine and blue skies and flowered meadows. I could hardly resist the temptation to kick off my boots and fall asleep on the banks of each brook I crossed.
Eventually I arrived in Washington where I spent five days in the suburb of Chevy Chase resting at the home of a retired Naval oficer and his gracious wife.
Then on to Baltimore with its steamy neighborhoods of cement block- and-brick houses lining littered streets. In Baltimore I stayed with young Jesuit volunteer social workers who lived in an old convent in the Little Italy section of the inner city. There I learned of the high unemploymemt in that port city and that, despite city government claims, poverty is very common.
As I walked north from Baltimore on my way to Philadelphia, I passed many doorways in which I saw the hard faces of the jobless and the restless.
Now, back in the countryside of northern Maryland, on the banks of the Susquehanna River, once again life seems to be at peace.
Steven