Okawville, Illinois 1984

Whenever my husband and I recall this odd hotel, we remember the 50-mile bike ride that took us there.   We remember the eerie mineral spa, that looked like a set for a horror film. And we remember the middle aged man with a somewhat pained expression on his face. 

Before meeting our mystery man that evening, Don and I absorbed some of the history (and creepiness) of the hotel which was rebuilt in 1893 after a fire.  After checking into our no-frills room we had a number of options in the spa.  I turned down the steam cabinet that reminded me of an I Love Lucy episode. Instead I chose to spend some time soaking in a tub filled with  warm mineral water.  An attendant gave me a robe and delivered me to a dim and dusty room where I sat in an old claw footed tub.  I did more chuckling than relaxing as I sat in that tub.    There was something a little too Twilight Zone-ish about the whole experience.   I wasn't sure I should close my eyes and relax.

It was at dinner that we met our stranger.  As I recall, our restaurant table was in sort of an indoor garden not far from a heated pool.  As we sipped our drinks waiting to order, we absorbed our somewhat quirky surroundings...historic mineral springs spa meets 1970's era "Holidome".

Not far from our table a man of about 50 was dining alone.  We didn't really notice him until he finished his meal and stood to leave.  He paused a moment and drew a deep breath before heading towards our table.  He seemed to be looking more at Don than me when he greeted us softly and apologized for interrupting.  Maybe my memory exaggerates, but he seemed more shaken than delighted when he spoke to Don.  "I couldn't help but notice you."  He sort of shook his head in disbelief.  "But you look so much like my son."

Most of us have been told we look like someone else, but the conversation is usually light and playful...or a light bulb moment.  "Hey, you remind me of..."  But this man seemed overwhelmed as he studied Don's face.  The man asked a few questions about Don's age and where he was from.  We were curious, but asked no questions ourselves, both fearing the son was deceased.  Then before leaving the man reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet.  The photo he showed us of his son showed a clear resemblance towards Don.  But the man's expression made it certain he thought Don looked exactly like the photo.

When the man was gone, he left us with a lingering mood of sad confusion.  Don and I sat and debated all the possibilities. If the son hadn't died then what could have happened between the father and son to make this man so emotional over the reminder of his son?


So Thanks, Dear Worried Dad,  Being young 20-somethings we didn't often think about the world from our parents' view.  We were reminded that day about relationships between grown kids and parents.  We'll never know what happened in the past between you and your son, but it was evident in our brief encounter that you cared for him very much.

1981 in Laguna Beach, California

I don't remember the woman being as pretty as this internet photo, but she was wearing a sari and she smiled.  In fact the woman I remember had an exuberant grin as if she'd just been born again and was sharing the love.

My View

While living in Laguna Beach I had a pretty idyllic job one summer, working with a children's program housed in the cozy American Legion Hall, just a block from the South Coast Highway.  In the afternoons I took the kids outside for activities in the shady yard, surrounded by a picket fence.  We didn't have a view of the beach, but we were right across the street from one of the better known Hare Krishna Temples in the States.

Festivities at the Temple

One summer day, the Temple had a daylong celebration. Saffron colored robes and colorful saris flooded the steps and yard.  The area was alive with waving banners and flowing fabric. The smells of exotic foods and the sounds of chanting, drumming and clinking finger cymbals drifted towards our yard.  When I took the kids out in the afternoon, the kids  were drawn towards the fence to watch.  They looked on quietly with no questions, since they were used to seeing people come and go near the building across the street.  "There are the Krishnas." I heard one child remind another. 

My Own Memories

I let the kids watch a moment, but then encouraged them towards painting and games in the yard. I felt uncomfortable.  It was only a few years earlier that I had my first encounter in an airport when oddly dressed men with shaved heads, smiled and offered their "books" with awkward enthusiasm. 

Over the years I continued to observe Hare Krishna in other public places, always cheerful as they shared their music and chanting.  But I felt leery when they came too close.  I knew there might be an invitation to a meal or a meeting or just another book.  I knew the people chanting across the street were no threat, I just didn't understand them.  Besides, the kids were obviously not bothered.  They happily left the fence and got caught up in other activities.

Winding Down

By late afternoon, the Krishna celebration had thinned.  A little drumming lingered in the air, mixing oddly with the patriotic tunes of a tap dance class that had just started up in the Legion Hall.  As the festival participants dispersed, some strolled down the sidewalk along the fence.  I noticed one woman draped in bright fabric catching the eye of  2 children.  She paused to greet them with an almost trance-like smile.  As I moved towards the kids I heard the woman's eager voice, "Can you say, Hare?"  I felt annoyed as I approached the grinning woman who leaned in to hear one boy mumble a response. "Can you say Hare?!"  She returned with twice the volume and enthusiasm. I ushered the kids away and gave the woman a quick nod that could be interpreted in many ways.  Mostly I didn't want the kids to feel my discomfort.  Why should they learn to be uncomfortable or afraid of people who are different?   Such a teachable moment, and I took the easy route by simply reminding kids not to talk to strangers. 

Thank you Krishna Woman...for making me think.  I didn't like your enthusiasm that day.  You could have just smiled to the kids without inviting them to chant.  But I have thought of you over the years and I wonder how many times you have been misunderstood.  32 years ago, I thought I was open and accepting of people of other races, religions and sexual orientation.  And I feel like I have become even more so over the years. But my memory of you has made me realize that after 32 years, I don't really know any more about Hare Krishna than I did in 1981.  Why is that?