Rock-tober 31, 2019

Architecturally, the Seabee memorial chapel sticks out on the base. Typically, government structures tend to be stark and utilitarian, strictly function over form. The chapel, however, has several perimeter walls with floor to ceiling windows that give unobstructed views of the chapel grounds. The main sanctuary's signature design element is a soaring, peaked back wall featuring an immense stained glass window. When viewed from within the main chapel, the backlit image of Christ is stunning.

It also houses a central courtyard. Several of its sides were made of those same floor to ceiling glass panels as the exterior walls so it could be seen from multiple vantage points within the chapel. Its only entry point was through a single door. Most times it was locked, but when I found it open I'd burst through excitedly. Its normally restricted access made it a compelling place for me to be. An elevated walkway carried you halfway over a koi pond to a fountain set in its middle. Looking down you could see koi swimming placidly among the lily pads along with frogs and, on rare occasions, waterfowl. It was intentionally built to invoke idyllic peacefulness.


One of the kids from the chapel that I started hanging out with during this time was a boy named Wesley. He was younger and smaller than me so I took on the role of big brother. I remember him hanging out at our house a lot and at times I'd be over at his. We'd pass the time watching TV, playing with Hot Wheels, or an Evel Knievel motorcycle and action figure. I remember I had to be careful when we were roughhousing because, again, he was much smaller than I was. Apart from that, I didn't think there was anything unusual about him. He was just another goofy kid I enjoyed spending time with.

At some point, they must have moved away, because we stopped hanging out. Years later, Mom shared something that threw me for a loop. Wesley's mom confessed that it took all her strength to allow Wesley and me to hang out together. I, of course, was shocked. Wesley's father was a SeaBee, just like Dad. During his father's battalion's last deployment to the Philippines, something went tragically wrong. A group of Seabees was ambushed and killed by radical Filipino separatists and Wesley's father was one of the casualties.

It explained a lot. The door to the chapel's central courtyard was locked more often than not. When it was open, grownups would enter and shush us kids when we got too rambunctious, infringing on its solemn tranquility. After all, it was, in fact, a memorial garden dedicated to Wesley's father and his brother Seabees, not a playground.

It would have been understandable for Wesley's mom to harbor a deep-seated grudge against the entire Filipino community. I can't imagine what she thought about her young son roughhousing with a Filipino kid whose deeply misguided countrymen murdered her husband half a world away. As Mom unfolded more of the story, she told me Wesley's mom made a concerted effort to reach out to the Filipino community. She refused the fear and anger with which she could have easily cloaked herself. In doing so, she utterly rejected the hate that would have sprung from them.

Today, there's no shortage of voices lamenting our divisiveness. There's usually a subtle intimation that it's the other group that's being intractable, and it annoys me to no end. Actions speak infinitely louder than mere words.

Wesley's mom displayed phenomenal courage by taking willful steps toward healing. She turned her back on fear and anger and hate by welcoming me into her home. In doing so, she healed a jagged rift for herself, her son, and an entire community. I've witnessed what the real deal looks like, so the talking heads can spare me the fake, insincere platitudes crying for unity. If there's no deliberate action behind the words, it just a veneer covering hypocrisy.

"Will they open their eyes, and realize we are one

Lost the faith, Lost the love

But when the day is done

Will they open their eyes, and realize we are one"

I sincerely thank you, the reader, for your time, support, and kind words these past 31 days. It truly is a privilege to be able to share these brief meanderings and musings of my life with you. Rock-tober out.