Save me Stuart
It’s a very reflective time of the year.
I’m thinking about September 11th, 2001. Most of us old enough to remember, know exactly where we were that day.
I was sleeping comfortably in my bed at the Pepper Mill Inn in Reno, Nevada. The phone was ringing. It was 6 am. My dear friend Andy Thibodeau was calling to ask if I had heard the news? Was I watching the TV? Was I ok? In my groggy and confused state, I replied in a sleepy voice “What are you talking about?”
“New York! The World Trade Centre! Turn on your TV.”
As I fumbled to find the remote, I felt panic rush through me. That same feeling you get in the pit of your stomach as you come over the first hill on a giant roller coaster. The television warmed up and the picture of the first tower smoking appeared. Then I saw it live; the second plane hit! The newscaster said “America is under attack.”
Not knowing what to do I called the school I was supposed to speak at that morning. “Sorry Stu, the school is closed today. We don’t know what’s happening and this is not the day to have an assembly.” I jumped in my rented Ford Explorer and dashed to the airport. I thought that maybe I could grab an early flight home, get back to my family, and to the safety of Canada. I quickly found out I hadn’t got out early enough. I saw the long line-ups at EVERY rental car counter, dozens of people deep. I heard their angry voices: “But I need a car. I have to get home! You must have something!” Looking down at the keys in my hand I realized I had a rental, I had a way home. I hopped in my SUV and began the long drive home from Reno to Toronto. Almost 3,000 miles up the west coast to Vancouver then across Canada to Toronto.
Once in my car I turned on the radio. Every channel seemed to be screaming at me: “We are at war”, “It was the Russians”, “Terrorists!”, “6 more planes missing.”
As my drive continued, I watched gas prices rise to 5, then 6 dollars a gallon. I listened to the craziness. People I would meet at service centres talked of not trusting their neighbours, how the government should retaliate, and who they should attack. I felt sick. I turned off the radio and called home but there was no answer —Nothing. I never felt so alone. I drove quietly for hours. Thinking perhaps this could be it, the end of the world.
If you weren’t in the United States during those first 24 hours you may have no idea the terrified panic that gripped the entire nation. I needed to get to British Columbia. Even though I would still be more than 2,000 miles from my actual home, being across the border would make me feel safe. I thought that somehow crossing the 49th parallel would be better. It had to be better than where I was.
My head began to race. I turned the radio on again, hoping for some music. There was no music. Every station became ‘all-news’ networks. Talk radio was even worse than the music stations. The world was in crisis and the worst in people was coming out.
I pulled over to stretch and clear my head. Then I remembered that I had brought CDs with me; a double set of Stuart McLean’s ‘Vinyl Cafe Stories.’ I got back behind the wheel, placed the CD in the slot. The car gobbled it up like it wanted to hear something different too! The second the sound of his voice filled my car, I relaxed. My shoulders dropped and my grip loosened on the wheel. I felt ok. I somehow felt safe. I was no longer alone. I had Dave, Morley, Stephanie, Sam and the neighbourhood with me — My car was full!
I listened to every story 3 times. I don’t think I would have survived that trip, that insanity without those familiar stories. There we were, Stuart and Stuart, driving through the Majestic rockies, the never-ending horizon of the golden prairies, into the beauty and awesomeness of Lake Superior. I was traveling through MY country with the best tour guide I could wish for. Stuart McLean saved me on that journey.
At this time of the year I think of him. I would always try and go to the Christmas live show. He brought us together, not just a Canadians but as humans. He died almost a year ago now. I miss him. Stuart was part of large deposits in my memory bank! We are all better because of him. Perhaps more than anyone else in history, he deserves an Arthur Award; the awards he gave for people being good humans. Here are Stuart’s words that express it best:
We do this thing. We open our hearts to the world around us. And the more we do that, the more we allow ourselves to love, the more we are bound to find ourselves one day - like Dave, and Morley, and Sam, and Stephanie - standing in the kitchen of our life, surrounded by the ones we love, and feeling empty, and alone, and sad, and lost for words, because one of our loved ones, who should be there, is missing. Mother or father, brother or sister, wife or husband, or a dog or cat. It doesn’t really matter. After a while, each death feels like all the deaths, and you stand there like everyone else has stood there before you, while the big wind of sadness blows around and through you.
As we travel through turbulent and divisive times, where people seem to be judged on colour and beliefs, we need more Stuarts. That is why YLCC run events like the
Global Student Leadership Summit - GSLS and
OSLC Spring. It’s why we have incredible speakers on our
Canadian Youth Speakers Bureau - CYSB. We need to bring people together, to Lead Together. I hope that as we reflect on a bizarre and rough 2017, perhaps we can try in 2018 to focus on what we have in common. We are one planet made up of borders made by humans centuries ago, but we really are floating on the same blue marble.
Peace and kindness to all!
