The event went by in far too much of a blur. My crew got in place early Sunday morning, to make sure that anyone getting there early would have an idea as to what was going on.
We had four pairs of line monitors. I worked with Tricia Haire, and couldn't tell you who else was paired with whom.
As the event time approached, someone called out that they needed a flag down at the end of our segment. There were two large American flags by Alisa Ulferts and Mike Reynolds. Alisa grabbed the flag, pole and all, and started running at full-sprint towards where it was needed. A photographer for the Dallas Times Herald saw this and snapped what was supposedly a gorgeous shot.
I never saw the photo, but someone said that it was stunning.
We linked up hands, and this electric feeling was everywhere. We sang the "The Star-Spangled Banner," "God Bless America," and those who knew it sang "Hands Across America." We swayed back and forth, and let the emotion wash over us all. And, all too briefly, it was over.
Once the line cleared out -- and they disappeared pretty quickly -- we packed up what gear we had left, and headed back to Dallas. There was an after party scheduled at the Fast & Cool Club on Greenville Ave, and although none of us were close to being able to go in there normally, we were told by everyone from the regional director on down that we HAD to go.
When the regional director was thanking everyone, my team was singled out as the youngest on the roster, and the one with the best retention rate in their segments. We were cheered, and someone picked me up from behind and shook me. I think might have been Don.
That night, I knew that I had a kind of a pull on my friends. If I believed in something enough, I was able to rope my friends along into joining me on the occasional crusade. I would get the "grand idea" from time to time, and through force of will alone, I was able to drag people along with me. This bit me on the ass later on, but it was all for a greater cause
Meanwhile, it's late. The party went on until midnight, and Don politely suggested we get the gang back to DeSoto. We're driving back from Dallas, the cheers and pats on the back and the genuine affection from everyone involved ringing in my ears... and Wendy is taking my chin in her hands and bringing my lips to hers.
We kissed in the back of Don's conversion pickup truck, holding hands, and watching as the full moon rose in our wake. Anything was possible. We could do anything. The world was ours.
When we got back to my grandmother's house, the parents of the majority of my teammates were there, and they were quite pissed. Well, mostly. The news coverage did a little to soften the blow of us being out far beyond our normal curfews. We said our goodbyes and congratulated each other once more on a job well done.
All told, HAA raised $20 million, which was distributed to over 1,600 homeless relief organizations around the country. Seven million people were a part of "the line." My team were responsible for 700 of them, and directly brought 75 to the party. The event may have been looked down upon by skeptics, but I would venture to say that out of those seven million people, at least half of them looked at homelessness in a different way following the event.
I didn't see a lot of Wendy in the months that followed. She moved soon afterward, and I never got to say goodbye. Nothing else came of the kiss.
But the memory remains. (;
A good one at that.
/j #Site Monitor
Posted by: Barbara | August 07, 2005 at 04:26 AM