Author Archive: Bill Black
I'm a baby boomer, lefty Democrat, Boston Irish Catholic, born in 1953. I work as a public affairs consultant in Washington.
A Graceful Finish
Connor tries to fix Anna’s bike
The last day of the Fuller Center West Coast Bike Adventure offered an example of selflessness that helped define for me the overall experience of doing this ride.
First, it should be understood that, in addition to supporting the mission of housing for the poor that animates the Fuller Center, people on the ride bring different personal goals to this adventure. For instance, some people are dedicated to ride every mile on their bike. Others are willing to ride the support van for some segments, for physical or mechanical reasons. There is no pressure to ride every mile, not by the Center and not by the other riders. It’s a purely personal goal.
Here’s what happened.
Anna Lea Little rode every mile on this trip, over mountains, through craggy bike trails, into and out of
Ann Coleman getting Anna started
canyons, in 100 degree sun and 50 degree rain. On our last day, as she began the climb up the biggest hill of the day at Torry Pine, her derailleur broke in a way that couldn’t be fixed. She was 18 miles away from the finish after riding more than 1,600 miles over the course of a month. Our young leader, Connor Ciment, tried diligently to get the bike fixed, even trying to turn Anna’s bike from a 22 speed into a one speed. Nothing worked. Anna was devastated.
First Good Samaritan helps with the climb
Not to be deterred, the group working on the problem came up with a solution that preserved Anna’s goal. Anna got on her chain-less bike, Ann Coleman held her up and ran along side her to get her up to speed and Connor put his hand on Anna’s back and began to push her up the hill. It was tough going. Even Connor acknowledged, he was struggling.
Then, an added bit of grace occurred when two other bikers encountered the scene and offered to help. Essentially, they formed a flying wedge, with one pushing Connor and one pushing Anna to get them over the hill at Torry Pine. Connor continued to push Anna for seven miles to the next rest stop, where they did, in fact, turn Anna’s bike into a one-speed. And she rode the rest of the way, which still included some pretty big hills. She achieved her goal and we all got the most inspirational story of the trip.
Connor, Anna and the chainless bike
The Best Shower….Ever!
Now, THAT’S a shower!
It is difficult to overstate the importance of showers at the end of a day of riding. Fuller riders rely primarily on donated shower facilities in the cities and towns where we stay. Sometimes this is a local Y, sometimes a nearby school and sometimes the churches have shower facilities onsite. Occasionally, the church community enlists its members to offer their homes. On this trip, particularly in Washington Oregon, we used campgrounds. A couple of times, we ended up with only cold showers. Those were memorable and not in a good way.
Today, I and my fellow rider Lauryn Kostopoulos scored big time. The United Methodist Church of Vista
Patricia, me, Lauryn and Victor
enlisted its community to open their homes to the riders for showers. Lauryn and I were among the last out and traveled to the home of Victor and Patricia. He’s a retired conservationist and she’s an amateur genealogist, a very cool couple. They also appear to appreciate good showers because their shower had about 8 nozzles, up, down and sideways. It was the best shower of the trip, maybe the best shower facility I’ve used this year. Nice that it came at the end of the ride.
The Great Escape
The view I first encountered from the bike path
This is why they call it an “adventure.” Today, we confronted a challenge when the bike path we were on stopped abruptly at Camp Pendleton. Apparently, there were some maneuvers and they closed the path. I was toward the back of the pack, so can take no credit for the ingenuity of the faster riders in coming up with a solution.
We had to move our route to I-5, an eight lane highway that the bike path was designed to avoid. The riders at the front of the pack found a gate in the chain-linked fence that divided the bike path from the highway, which gave us access to the highway. However, in addition to the chain linked fence, they had to carry the bikes through heavy underbrush, across railroad tracks and then through a barbed wire fence. I came by later after the system was in place and it worked pretty smoothly, although I did get caught in the barbed wire.
Crossing the tracks, underbrush and barbed-wire fence
In tradition of mutual support that is part of the ethic of the Fuller Center, all the riders waited on the highway until everyone got through. We then had to ride 10 miles along I-5, with cars and trucks constantly roaring by, before we were able to return to our more civilized riding off the highway.
Whitey’s Place
Whitey hid in plain sight at this apartment building
I found time to stop by Whitey Buler’s “hideaway” in Santa Monica. It took a little research to find it, since the owners changed the name of the apartment building from the Princess Eugenia to the Barbas Apartments. And I did have to backtrack a bit, which annoyed my fellow rider, a young woman who had never heard of Whitey Bulgar. But it was worth it.
If you want to hear a hilarious story told by the manager of the Princess Eugenia about when the FBI came calling, check out the episode of the Moth Radio Hour where he tells what it was like.
https://themoth.org/stories/call-me-charlie
Best Biking Songs
Music was enormously influential in helping me complete the West Cost bike ride. I had a bluetooth speaker mounted on my handlebars that played music from my IPhone. I learned the power of a good song at the right time in one of the early days’ rides when I was riding – typically – at the back of the pack and we were beginning to climb a hill. Just then Bruce Springsteen Thunder Road started to play and I cranked up the volume. It was like the afterburners kicked in. I began to pedal furiously. I caught up and eventually passed a group of more seasoned riders up the hill. It was exhilarating.
Of course, going forward, I had to use this device carefully. I couldn’t keep going back to the same few songs as they would lose their power over time. But this discovery helped me clear some pretty big hills.
These were my “go to” songs when I had a big climb in front of me:
- Thunder Road – Bruce Springsteen
- Jungleland – Bruce Springsteen
- Sympathy for the Devil – Rolling Stones (Live version)
- Diminuendo in Blue and Crescendo in Blue – Duke Ellington (Live at Newport)
- Casa Loma Stomp – Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra
- Maniac’s Ball – Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra
- White Jazz – Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra
- Dawn – The Four Seasons
- Walking Blues – Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
- The Love I Lost – Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes
On one occasion, Bruce also helped with a downhill ride. The good news about climbing hills is that there is often a long downhill ride on the other side. Once in Oregon, I got to the top of about a 2 mile climb and, as I began to descend, the Springsteen song came on coincidentally that has the refrain, “I’m goin’ down, down, down. I’m goin’ down, down, down…” This added to the euphoria and racking up some distance without pedaling.
Finally, I couldn’t get Willie Nelson out of my head when I finally got my new bike and was “On the Road Again.”
FCBA – Day 1
Today was a relaxed day in Seattle. We were mostly just getting ourselves situated. Still a few riders trickling in, which involved a trip to the airport for pickup. It was technically a “build day,” but that meant moving boxes for a few families whose apartments had been renovated by the Fuller Center. I skipped the “build” to assemble my bike with the help and guidance of my friend and partner, Peter Asmuth.
Peter Reconnects with 2016 FCBA rider, Joseph, also known as “Pui”
One surprise visitor was Joseph, aka “Pui,” who rode across country last year. He was one of the “Three Stooges,” which included Peter, Pui and Fred Smoak. They were inseparable during the ride. Since I arrived in Peoria, I was not eligible to join their fraternity. I guess I was Shemp.
After getting the bike outfitted and making an aborted run to the airport, I connected with my cousin, Paul Campbell. Paul’s like the big brother I never had. He’s the second oldest of my 40 or so first cousins on my mother’s side. I was close to his brother Gerald, who was born 2 days before me, and did a lot of sleepovers at his house. He was, and is, a huge outdoorsman, which is probably why he moved to Seattle decades ago. Given the distance, we don’t get to see enough of each other.
We did a driving tour of Seattle, including a stop at the Troll Under the Bridge, a landmark little known
Paul and Me at the Troll Under the Bridget
outside of Seattle. It was constructed by a group of local students. When we went, there was dozens of people taking their pictures with the statue. It is also an important site in that it is the place where Paul and his wife, Helen, were married. Yeah, Paul’s a bit funky, which is one of the many reasons I love him.
As to the ride, I have been interested with the role of “team leader” for a chore group. My chore this week is “Snack Bins and Coolers,” both of which I need to ensure are full for the riders.
Tomorrow we ride to the Space Needle and back, 24 miles, not too many hills and extraordinary views of the harbor and Seattle skyline.
A Note to Supporters of the Fuller Center
Heading to Seattle with Bike
To get myself into the swing of things, I am posting the note I sent to those who have supported my bike rides on behalf of the Fuller Center for Housing.
If you are getting this email, you have supported me in some way in my bike rides for the Fuller Center for Housing.
As I write, I’m flying over the “Trump Belt” on my way to Seattle for the ride to San Diego. While I did a similar ride last year from Peoria to DC, this one is a bit more daunting. On the other hand, I have a new bike with much lower gears (for the hills) and I actually did some training in advance. So, I feel like I’m reasonably prepared. I’m still not sure how we’re going to get across Big Sur, since much of it has slid into the ocean. But mine is not the reason why…. I’m sure they’ve got it figured out.
I do hope to do a better job of “journaling” along the way this year than last. Don’t worry, I’m not going to be sending any more emails. It’s a purely “opt in” system. My plan is to post regularly to Instagram and Facebook with short updates. When I’m feeling more literary, I will post to my blog. There’s a subscription option on the blog if you would like to be notified when I’ve posted. The more who do that, the more incentive I’ll have to post.
Here are the links:
Blog www.preferentialoptionblog.com
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/bill.black1
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/guynoir53/
The Fuller Center also maintains a blog for a less subjective account of the ride:
http://www.fullercenterbikeadventure.org/category/blog/2017westcoast/
Having experienced last year the Spartan lifestyle that the Fuller Center bikers enjoy on the road, I can assure those of you who contributed that your money is well spent. Imagine St. Francis on a bike, sleeping in church basements and eating donated food. None of the money goes to creature comforts. Frankly, our only real indulgences are the bikes. They are pretty high end, but we obviously pay for those ourselves.
So, I’m off and, again, thank you.
Bill
Feeling Old
Another 
story from ThriveDC. This morning I was working the shower station with another volunteer who came with a group from the Coast Guard. He was a soft spoken young man wearing a Red Sox cap. So, naturally, we talked baseball. I asked if he was from Boston. He said, “No, Alabama.”
I asked how a guy from Alabama becomes a Red Sox fan. He said he was the son-in-law to a former Red Sox player, Dave Stapleton. He reminded me that Stapleton was a first baseman who alternated games with the infamous Bill Buckner. For non-baseball fans, Buckner is the guy who muffed a ground ball that cost the Red Sox the World Series in 1986. Clearly, like many Red Sox fans, his in-laws believe that if Red Sox Manager John McNamara had played Stapleton, rather than Buckner in that game, the Red Sox would have won the Series in 1986.
I was duly impressed and said “Wow, that’s amazing. You married his daughter?!” He said “Yes.” I blurted out, “Did you know her when he was playing for the Red Sox??” He said, “I wasn’t born, when he was playing for the Red Sox.”
Ouch.
A Moment of Grace
William S. Taft
Thrive DC is a very special program that provides for the needs of the homeless in Washington, DC. It operates in the basement of St. Stephens Church on 16th Street, NW and offers food, laundry services, showers and a number of training programs for its clients.
I volunteer weekly at the program and one of my jobs is to take the names of the guests as they arrive for breakfast in the morning. I love this job because it allows me to get to know the guests and to learn their names. Many are regulars and I derive great satisfaction when I can greet them by name and even have a brief conversation as they check in.
A couple of weeks ago, there was an incident that was so touching, I wanted to share it here. On this day, most of the guests had arrived and the dining room was pretty full. As usual, there was a lot of conversation and laughter. I was having a conversation with Brian, a staff member, and William Taft, another volunteer. William is a handsome man who has a radio voice, dreadlocks and a winning smile. Years ago, William was a client of Thrive and, in appreciation, he returns to the breakfast program almost every day to provide emotional and spiritual support for the guests. William thrives on intellectual discourse and, when he’s not encouraging clients and staff, he is engaged in deep philosophical discussions.
We were probably talking about the meaning of life when a woman came in who was clearly in pain, not physical pain, but emotional pain. Her face was wracked. She was so stressed she couldn’t speak. I asked her for her name, but she didn’t – or couldn’t – respond. She just stood there looking like she was carrying all the anxiety in the world on her shoulders.
William asked her if she was alright. No answer. Just pain in her face. He asked her again. Nothing. Then he said, “You need a hug,” and walked over and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. She leaned into him and put her face on his chest. They held that pose for a long time. Her face softened a bit. After a while, they separated and William kissed her on the cheek, saying, “You need to pray, dear, just pray, and you’ll be fine.” She proceeded to her table, seemingly somewhat relieved, and William departed.
The incident illustrated what, for me, the best thing about Thrive DC. There is a spirit of community that surrounds the organization. The direct services provided are necessary for the body, but the community serves the soul. Who’s to say which is the more valuable? Both are necessary and both can be found at Thrive DC.
A Letter to My Kids on the Occasion of the 2016 Election
Dear Danny & Bridget,
It’s now two days from the election of Donald Trump as our next president. As I’ve said to you, the
Bridget accompanying Rita to vote. Bridget voted in PA
magnitude of this event makes it hard to keep all the negative consequences in your head at the same time. I keep thinking of new ones that I hadn’t considered or forgotten about. Most of them are things over which we have no individual control. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change…”
But one thing we can control is how we remember this campaign, particularly the last few days. As you know, I am always proud of you. But my pride was literally bursting as I heard of the things you were doing to support the election of the first woman president. Danny in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. Bridget in Pennsylvania. Me in Cleveland and
Photo accompanying NBC story about Bridget and the Springsteen rally
Mom holding the fort in DC, anxiously watching us all from home. I was moved to tears more than once. I loved the fact that we all stayed in such close touch, even in our various locations. It was truly a family affair.
You both threw yourselves, heart and soul, into this election. From the day I heard that Mom was pregnant with Danny, I have always said that my fondest hope is to have children with passion. Of
Rep. Joe Kennedy greets VP Joe Biden in Scranton
Photo by Dan Black
course I was hoping that your passion would be consistent with mine, but that wasn’t a prerequisite.
And boy did I get my wish. You both are passionate and showed it in this campaign. Danny, your 3,000 miles logged with Rep. Joe Kennedy will be something you remember your whole life. And, Bridget, your enthusiasm for canvassing is one of the things that brought me to tears. Frankly, I hate canvassing, but I do it because we have to. Fortunately, I moved up to “management” on this campaign and only had to dispatch canvassers, not canvas myself. That was nice. And I loved hearing about your volunteer gig at the Bruce Springsteen concert, including getting on the news as a result of your Hillary socks.
What I want you both to promise me is that you will compartmentalize this experience. A bad outcome on a campaign can taint the whole experience. Don’t let that happen. I’m not just preaching to you. I’m preaching to myself, as well. Let’s all draw a bright line between the campaign and the election. And lets remember this experience with the fondness it deserves.
You are both extraordinary people and you showed in your “passion” the big-hearted values that were the engine of the Hillary Clinton campaign. No outcome can change that fact.
Bill meeting Hillary at Kent State University
Yes, she lost and it was devastating. I honestly don’t have any words of comfort on that point. Our friend Luke said it was like a sudden death in the family. The only way through that experience is time, the time to absorb it until it becomes part of the new reality. We’re all going to have to go through that process in our own way.
America is heading into a rough patch politically. But we’ll get through it. I would just ask you to keep the values you fought for in the campaign. And keep that passion. I love you both more that I can express.