The Q-View

The big question at the counter-vigil was, of course, “Did you get one?”, referring to the pro-Nazi mailing that some had received in the mail.

I had not. But I saw them in the media. Once again the Valley was featured for negative reasons. The occasion was on-the-spot-live reports-satellite vans newsworthy. The mailings were composed of drawings such as a Jew holding a knife at the throat of a white man, text extolling white supremacists’ ideology, and, most unsettling, “personal” salutations such as “Dear Kansas City Chief’s Fan” sent to a house with a Chief’s banner out front.

Some members of the community responded by organizing a peaceful protest on a Sunday evening on the Square.

I stood on the northwest corner of the square that was filled with at least a couple of hundred of concerned citizens. I chatted with a couple of former teaching colleagues and a former student as dusk curtained what had been a beautiful day. We talked about life in general as people tried to keep candles lit while passing cars created flame-threatening breezes.

Which created an interesting metaphor. As most of us try to continue with our existence, forces out of our control randomly try to extinguish our hopes, our beliefs, our sense of right. Yet we do what we can to keep our hopes, beliefs, morality flickering against the darkness that would envelop us. Sometimes we are unsuccessful, but we can re-ignite our candles from those around us and gain solace in the light.

I doubt that the mailers of the hate literature were affected by the vigil. It probably made them more determined to wipe out their perception of the vast rainbow-liberal-multi-national-conspiracy that continues to make America less than great, again.

But they were not the audience. It was reassuring to know that for one hour on a calm Sunday night, the light from candles kept the darkness of hate at bay in our little valley.

Even if the TV satellite trucks were not there to breathlessly report on it.