My mind was wandering as I sorted samples this morning and I suddenly, randomly, remembered a wet, grey Saturday when we lived in the Hudson Valley. We were bored and restless so we drove down to Beacon to go to the art museum. We timed our departure wrong and got stuck in traffic on our way out of town. I had the low blood sugar crazies and was not acting my age.
As we waited in the line of cars at a light I saw the back of a small, hunched man standing near the intersection, holding a sandwich board, in panhandler stance. But instead of the usual weathered, worn clothes, this man had a bright red rain jacket with the hood up. We inched closer but he faced the oncoming traffic and it wasn't until we turned the corner that I caught a short, blurry glimpse of his face.
Pete Seeger, well into his eighties at that point. Standing alone in the drizzle on the side of Route 9. Holding a sign that read PEACE.