ON AMTRAK ROLLING EAST ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥” ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œSo what kind of work do you do?ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥ I made bold to ask the hefty sixtyish gentleman who had plopped down beside me. The conductor had warned me that my time as a solo seat occupier would soon be up on the D.C.-bound Cardinal.
ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œIÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™m retired,ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥ he said, ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥˜ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥after 34 years from the shipyard in Newport News.ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥
ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œWow, what did you build?ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥
ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œBig stuff. Submarines, destroyers, aircraft carriers.ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥
ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œAIRCRAFT CARRIERS! ThatÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™s incredible.ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥
It was to be the first of several intriguing conversations I had as I headed for Washington. Despite the train falling a full two hours behind schedule, making the trek 12 hours instead of the usual 10, the time just melted away.
The shipbuilder, who went by ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œMike,ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥ got into some of the intricacies of his particular job, which I cannot replicate here. But I was so impressed to be sitting next to a guy who, along with his work mates, was responsible for a number of big ships passing inspection and sliding into Atlantic waters.
The carriers he built would carry 5,000 crew including pilots to match up with 80 or more fighter jets and other aircraft, ready for combat anywhere in the world.
As I had spent several weeks on a carrier in the Mediterranean on a film shoot and watched takeoffs and landings and got to know some pilots, I was just amazed to be having such a conversation on Amtrak.
Next up came an extended chat with a coed from the San Francisco Bay Area whoÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™d come east to study astronomy at UVA in Charlottesville. Somehow I let drop that I was writing a catechism for my capstone project in a masterÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™s degree in theology program at The Catholic University of America. She wanted to know more.
My first question to her, naturally enough, was, ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œDid you grow up in a church? Do you have some background in Christianity?ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥
No, in fact, she did not. ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œI guess IÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™m what youÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™d call an agnostic,ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥ she said. ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œIÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™ve actually read parts of the Bible, but IÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™m not in any church.ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥ Her parents, it seemed, had not been ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œinto church.ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥
I suggested to this young gal, whose name was Rae, that there were, to my mind, two kinds of agnostics: the kind that is hostile to hearing about Christian beliefs and the kind that was open to learning about the Jesus of the Gospels. She was definitely the second kind, she said. In fact, she had good Christian friends at UVA, Catholic mostly, with whom she liked to hang out.
I showed her some of the catechism draft I had with me, and talked about my discovery of Natural Law as the basis for all human morality. We were just getting started on that when she decided to get back to her own seat, farther back in the coach. ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œJust keep hanging out with your Christian friends,ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥ I said. ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œI think youÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™ll find some answers.ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥
The third conversation had me trialoging with two women from Virginia on their way to the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine in Baltimore, sisters-in-law Pam and Barbara, both in their 60s.
Barbara needed a bone marrow transplant to curb the advance of her bone cancer. Pam was her companion and moral support. I ended up praying for Barbara and her doctors that all would go well. Subsequently, Barbara insisted on giving me a hug. ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œPrayers,ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥ I told her, ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œwill continue.ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥
John Patrick Grace is a regular contributor to The Herald-Dispatch Opinion page. He lives in eastern Cabell County.
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