That was the question posed to me by my good friend Dave Bernstein about a week ago when I was telling him about the Red Ball Express and the improbable cross-country journey that an old dirt track racer Javelin was just starting out on. He said it in that laughing kind of way that a guy who understands this stuff can. It wasn’t exactly disbelief, but it wasn’t exactly total support either.
I told my wife about it and she asked me how I responded, I told Dave not really. When I said that to her she whacked me in the leg and said emphatically, “YES IT IS!” That was not spoken by someone who understands this stuff at all, but who has been around me long enough to expect it by now. Maybe she was right. I’m still on the fence.
The way I see this type of thing is akin to the way barns were built many years ago here in New England, and presumably across the country. There were barn raisings that drew just about every man and boy from all the villages around the area that the barn was being built. There was no mass communication, so word spread from village to village by people chatting and talking. When the day arrived, every able-bodied person stepped up with their tools and took on a particular task. Within a couple of weekends, teams of men and horses were raising trusses, installing clapboards, and framing out horse stalls.
Their pay was nothing more than the ability to ride by that barn on their buggy and know they had done something to better their community, help a resident, and set an example for the younger generation that was there working on the project.
Where the hell did we go wrong from then to now?
We’ve actually gotten to a point that this type of activity is not only rare, but in most cases seen as odd or abnormal. Thankfully there are enough of us “weirdos” left that still believe in those basic values that were put to use in the construction of the old barns (hundreds of which still stand, some nearing 200 years old) to carry the torch today.
The fact that I can look out to see the Javelin, riddled with the signatures of great people from across the country (and Canada!) who came out and donated their time, money, and trucks to this event, makes me smile. It also makes me realize that I have some semblance of responsibility to see this project through, to whatever degree that it’s going to be done. (Those of you who have laid your eyes on this mother know what I am starting with).
The hardest times that this country has faced all seem to reset to some degree our ability to realize that being part of an active community is an important part of life. It certainly does not have to be cars, trucks, or even tractors for that matter, but really any type of activity that draws you to do things for reasons other than your own personal gain.
I believe strongly that it was not the barn building or the Javelin hauling that brings people like us together but more the sense that we’re being presented with a unique opportunity to engage others who share not only the same common interests, but really the same basic core beliefs about many things in life, and this has nothing to do with politics. I’d venture to say if this were a 1985 Yugo, you all would have performed the same flawless duty as you did with this gem of a Javelin.
The world has enough crappy stuff going on these days to get really down on everything. It’s pretty easy to do for most people whose only contact with society is through the evening news. Those of us who strive to do and accomplish great things, no matter how trivial or weird they may seem to others have an advantage that they many people do not.
Simply put, we’re engaged in what’s happening around us and have the balls to make decisions that others are too afraid to make.
As I said in a previous column, you are all men (and women) of action. Never be deterred by someone’s opinion of what’s “right” or “normal” because if you did, your life wouldn’t be half as much fun as it is right now.
To everyone who followed along, cheered, prayed, and participated on this nutty trip, a hearty thanks goes out from Chad and I. What you told us was that you’re all the real deal and that we have a high standard to hold ourselves here to be worthy of your company. That’s the kind of pressure we like.
Now let’s go build a barn.
