The Man I Met Was John Gardner

We arrived in New York from Puerto Rico.  I was very happy to be leaving for a European adventure. We had saved up a few dollars so we felt free. We had a kind of plan for the autumn. We looked gorgeous. No modesty there. When I look at the few old pictures that have survived the ages, I am in awe of our beauty. We felt great.  We were free. That is the word that comes to mind . We were as free as birds.

I was wearing a short skirt and big tall platform shoes. I mean short. I mean that the whole skirt was about 8 inches. My hair was bleached by the sun and down to my waist. P. was wearing bell bottom pants, long hair also and some silk cravat. Looking back, at least he wasn't wearing a sari as he sometimes did.

The Long Island we went to was not the Long Island of "The Great Gatsby" (that would be later), it was the Long Island of nice suburban houses in nice rows with nice yards and two car garages. It was the Long Island of commuter rails carrying thousands of workers into the City daily. It was very tidy. The Waldorf Institute, The Garden City Waldorf School, the home of the Gardner's were all nice and neat and tidy. It was a bit of a shock, like re-entering the world of "Leave it to Beaver" after living through the 60s.

John met us at the school. We were carrying our backpacks. He showed us around this place where everyone was modestly dressed in expensive clothes with nice neat haircuts and practical shoes. Then he took us to his house to spend the night and meet his wife, Carol.

Carol greeted us warmly, took us to separate bedrooms with twin beds and showed Patrick around while I went in the living room for tea with John. I could tell that we were both judging each other and both coming up with critical opinions. So, I did what I do when I am uncomfortable. I challenged him. (in his own house while he was offering us his hospitality!) I was young, remember. I said something about how I bet he was happy that we hadn't been able to shut down the war in Vietnam. He said something about how I must be insecure to have to wear such revealing clothes. He said something about how disruptive the war protesters were when he was running a school. I said something about how some people were living in a dream world if they thought we should just let those in Washington be in charge.

He allowed as how I was pretty angry and I was using my anger to prop up my lower ego. I said" You are talking to me about EGO! Who are you to talk about big egos?"

Then Patrick came in and Carol invited us into a nice dinner. (meat loaf, potatoes, salad, garden veggies, ice cream. Why do I remember this stuff?) and we chatted and all got along famously. John had invited Lee Lecraw to meet us. By the time we left the next morning, we were going to the Institute in the fall, Mr. Lecraw had offered to pay the fees, we had a plan to rent a house at the beach with Jennifer Greene. Signed sealed and delivered.

I loved Carol Gardner. At some point in the 24 hours, I got an amazing feeling about John Gardner. It was not comfortable, but it was strong. I had met the man who's mind would challenge me like never before. I had met someone important. It was not necessary that I agree with him on anything but it was necessary that I think in a deeper way to meet his questions and that I look beyond my hippie rebellion against the bourgeois lifestyle and see this man. He was my teacher.

Our friendship unfurled at a slow uneven pace. I grew up a lot. John had some intense heart opening experiences. He became one of the most important people in my life. We became great friends. Long after his death I still turn to him when I want a longer view of things, when I want a challenging opinion. A lot of people I met through him quote him or offer what they think he thought about something. I could never do that because I could never predict his thoughts or anticipate his words. He had an original mind. I did, however constantly have the experience that my intuition was sharpened, magnified in his presence. That can still happen when I conjure him up in my heart. Some good teacher.