Ella Rydzewski, click here
to update your web pages on AuthorsDen.
Blogs by Ella Rydzewski
Meeting in Carmel 9/1/2016 2:33:31 PM
Meeting John Denver was a highlight of a trip to Carmel. He was one of my favorite musicians—a singer of ballads with a spiritual bent. Sometimes his songs exhorted us to take care of our world. Other times they awakened our awareness of majestic mountains, streams, and the beauty of living in the west.
When my husband noticed John Denver in an auto shop in Carmel, California, a few years ago, I wanted to meet him. We had stopped to look at a wood carving exhibit next to the garage. My husband walked over to introduce himself. I held back, hesitant to disturb a celebrity going about his daily business. But John seemed friendly and open to the idea of having my husband take his picture with me. I apologized for taking his time, and he assured me that he was only waiting for his red Porsche to be repaired.
We talked briefly about Carmel and the enjoyment of visiting this lovely place. We supposed he may have come to town for a golf tournament nearby, but we didn’t pry. He didn’t offer any information about himself as people often do when meeting for the first time. But John was not the usual person one meets on a trip. At the same time he seemed so really average, wearing a patterned tee shirt that revealed a small paunch in his middle. His blond hair and sun tan gave him the look of a middle-aged surfer.
As we posed for the photo, he put an arm around my waist. Rather than think of any celebrity status, I was a bit unnerved by this assertiveness. But relaxing, I became aware of the fragility of the man. Of medium height and slight build, I wondered at the news stories that had him driving fast cars, riding fast horses, and occasionally drinking too much. They seemed out of character for the gentle, melancholy, soft-spoken man. I can’t say he looked sad, but his round face wore a half smile as though it was all he could muster.
After the photo-taking, we parted company to go look at the carvings, but he soon followed us to talk. When we left, I told him how much I appreciated his interest in ecological concerns, the topic probably closest to his heart. He smiled with his whole face then. “Thank you,” he said.
In October, months later back in Maryland, we heard on the news that John Denver had died. He had died in a small experimental plane that had dropped into the Pacific not far from where we had talked that day. This news came not long after hearing of the accidental death of a friend who served God to the end. For days I wondered more about John’s destiny than that of my friend. His seemed precarious. In spite of his good works for the environment, had he known anything about the real Christ? Should I have told him about a loving God at our meeting? What good would it have done? Did Christ die for all humans, or just those who had the good fortune to hear about His love from a truthful source?
