Another. . . .

For some years, my wife Barbara was a large-caliber gun (!??) in a nationwide peace organization. She was the local director of the Lutheran Peace Fellowship. Although there is no official affiliation between the two organizations, there is a fair amount of cross-fertilization between the LPF and the Fellowship of Reconciliation. Every year, the Western Washington FOR holds a retreat over the Fourth of July weekend at Seabeck. Barbara and I have attended the retreat a number of times.

Seabeck is a conference center located in a beautiful woodland setting on the shores of Hood Canal (Hood Canal is not a man-made canal, it is actually a fjord, an offshoot of Puget Sound). There are several buildings scattered among the trees. Some of them house meeting rooms of various sizes, others contain rooms for lodging those who attend conferences there, and there are a couple of larger buildings. One is a meeting hall / auditorium and the other, formerly an inn, contains more lodging and a large dining area. The setting is perfect for the purpose. When going from workshop to workshop or when just enjoying leisure time, we followed paths through the trees or across wide, rolling green lawns. The waters of Hood Canal were always in view. For three days we met friends there, attended discussions and workshops (Barbara conducted a couple of workshops), ate simple but hearty meals in the dining room, slept soundly in the way one can only in such sylvan surroundings, and in general, relaxed and regenerated. The setting was — well — peaceful.

At various times during the day, but especially in the evenings, there was music. This was provided by singer, songwriter, guitarist, and storyteller, the lovely and inimitable Linda Allen, and singer, storyteller, song-leader, and 5-string banjoist, Tom Rawson. They sang solo, they sang duets, and they led the group in song. At the close of the last full day, the singing went on late into the evening. Finally, as the evening drew a close, Tom Rawson taught us the chorus and got us all singing along on Greg Brown's Rooty Toot Toot for the Moon. Before he led us in the song, though, he said, "It's late, folks, and it's time for us all to go. But as you go, as you leave the building, I want you to keep singing the chorus. And keep singing as you go on your way." Then he led us in song, him singing the verses and the rest of us joining in on the chorus. After singing the last chorus through twice, he stopped playing the banjo and raised his arms while he kept singing. Slowly we all got up and filed out of the building, still singing. Outside, a full moon shone, shimmering on the waters of the nearby fjord and illuminating the night. Several hundred people gradually dispersed through the trees, all singing

Rooty toot toot for the moon,
It's the biggest star I've ever seen,
It's a pearl of wisdom,
A slice of green cheese,
Burnin' just like kerosene,
Burnin' just like kerosene.

Rooty toot toot for the moon,
It's the biggest star I've ever seen. . . .

Magical! Absolutely magical!

Don Firth