Serendipity on Wheels
It was one of those surprising moments that seem to swirl around Liberty like benign dust devils. Bob and I were expecting that Liberty would allow us a one-day leave of absence to take care of a few housekeeping chores before doing battle with the scorching heat assaulting the Alamo City – even as we planned to spend the next day letting Liberty kick up her heel at Alamo Plaza: a chance for two iconic symbols of freedom and independence to share common (and sacred) ground.
We received an invitation by Miss Roxy Derek and Blonde Creative Marketing Group to share Liberty for a collaborative presentation to a college marketing class at the building they share. (see pics of the day: http://missroxyderek.blogspot.com/) This ultra-hip boutique and cutting-edge advertising agency enjoy a dynamic alliance, sharing not only a common space but also an intuitive gift for not just spotting trends but creating them.
The high-voltage synergy of these two enterprises provided the kind of vibrant ambience Liberty herself exudes. Jody Marmel, a charismatic and captivating marketing instructor, had the visionary business savvy to see that Liberty’s visit provided serendipity on wheels: an emblematic example of marketing in motion that could provide a teachable moment (actually two hours!) for fashion design and marketing students from IADT, a popular local career college.
After an informal exchange with=2 0the students and a brief cool-down in the air conditioned oasis of our RV, I returned to my hosts’ chic environs, where I was warmly greeted with a Texas-sized embrazo by Blonde Creative’s warm but ultra-cool founder, Louis Cardenas. Moments later, he introduced me to his close friend Jason Cox. Cox is a tall, slender presence sporting a black t-shirt emblazoned with “Will you Marrow Me.” The bright white letters imprinted on the dark fabric matched the ebony eyes and brilliant smile of its bearer. After literally sweeping me off my feet with yet another sunny embrazo, Cox shared with me his moving story—one in which his indomitable spirit not only triumphed over the life-threatening challenges of childhood leukemia, but led him to a successful career in ballet. Even more impressive was Cox’s life-affirming mission to “give back” that seemed to echo Liberty’s own calling. For Cox, this mission includes weekly motivational work with children and participating in triathlons to raise awareness of the critically important need for bone marrow donors.
We began to exchange individual visions and found– no surprise– that we were seeing eye to eye. Seconds after we wished Just as we wished each other success at pursuing our respective dreams, he made an elegant, upward-bound leap up the spiral staircase to Blonde Creative’s nerve center, returning with an autographed copy of his book, “The Puppet”– a poignant, moving story about=2 0freedom I enthusiastically recommend. As Louis Cardenas suggested with a parting smile, “Remember — Liberty is nothing if not Creative.” Amen, mi amigo . . .
Finally — The Alamo!
Long morning shadows seemed to cling to the courtyard of the famous old mission like the t-shirt clinging to my back as we began setting up early on the last day of our 26-day tour. The Alamo’s thick stucco walls once sheltered 180 brave souls from a fierce onslaught by Santa Anna’s soldiers for 13 endless days, days but the world-famous fort offered little relief from the sweltering heat besieging the Alamo City. We situated Liberty just across the street from Alamo Plaza in the shade of the large green cast iron awnings of the Historic Menger Hotel. As shaved ice vendors began wheeling their carts under the generous canopy of interlaced branches of old oak trees, we calculated how long the hotel’s massive facade would shield us from the sun’s lacerating rays.
Not Your Typical Tourist Trap
Tourists would soon be spilling into the streets and onto The Riverwalk that meanders near the old mission. However, while they still lingered on cool bed linens, city workers, groundskeepers and tour guides trickled out from side streets and paused to welcome high-kicking Liberty with broad smiles, spontaneous laughter and many an animated, “thank yew” (with a Texas accent) for visiting their lovely and unpretentious city. As word spread quickly a mong the guides, Liberty became an impromptu stop throughout the day. Tourist after tourist gave us hearty thumbs-up and Hook-‘em horns signs from the tinted windows of their air-conditioned buses. One Segway driving guide stopped to chat and extended an invitation to join his two-wheeled herd “anytime you’re in town…with our compliments”.
Several Policemen and the Hotel’s security guards also made a visit. We had reserved the spot weeks in advance and were armed with necessary permits, but that was not their focus. Like everyone else, they just wanted photos and an opportunity to find out what we were all about. Despite pedestrians dashing into the middle of the street for a photo op, the authorities remained cheerful, accommodating and happy for Liberty’s upbeat interruption of the normal flow of traffic. A Hispanic bicycle cop showed particular appreciation as he told us how troubled he was by the level of ingratitude and ignorance about freedom that he perceived – especially in those generation that have followed the “greatest generation” of World War II. As a way to compensate, he has taken it upon himself to informally “home school” his children and their peers on the price and privilege of liberty. Leaving with a handful of Liberty brochures for those youngsters and a patch for his son’s jacket, he gave us a “happy trails” wish for safe travels. A short while later, a group20of teachers dropped by requested 150 brochures to share with their students, mirroring the same enthusiasm and motivation we’d enjoyed from the liberty-loving police officer.
Visitors Beware
The pulse of the city increased along with temperatures and young families began appearing. A large group stepped one by one onto Liberty’s trailer for photos. This created a small panic when their combined weight caused the tail end to lift into the sweltering air before landing back on the pavement as they shifted about. This was no small feat considering Liberty’s hefty stats.
After the sun had seared its way onto the sculpture’s pedestal, my seat was set ablaze when accommodating a teenager’s request to pose on it for a photo. The 1” steel plate had become a “bun”-frying, sizzling skillet. But, given that the photo was going to be sent to a soldier still serving in Afghanistan, I consider my charred tush an insignificant sacrifice for boosting his morale. But before I could enjoy a cooling-off period, I heard a commotion behind me. A woman was blowing on her fingers as she let out a lady-like yelp! After picking up the ballpoint pen beside Liberty’s guest book and finding it hot as a branding iron.
A Long Road Traveled
A woman and her three daughters who had learned about the tour and followed the blogs to find us, drove 25 miles to downtown S.A., then trudged 10 city blocks in the scorching heat to reach us. The purpose of this pilgrimage was the kind only a mother could have: to teach her three little girls a lesson on the value of going after their dreams with “manly” gusto. I asked them one by one what they hoped to accomplish with their lives. From artist, to scientist, each were well on their way, with scholarships and dreams of impacting their world in wonderful ways. This single-parent family had their own private history of overcoming obstacles, a mission galvanized by searching out positive affirmations such as Liberty’s visit as a frequent reminder that perseverance is the key to any pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.
Another woman braved a safari-long trek across town shaded only by a sun visor to see what “freedom looked like in action.” We both stood there with sunburned shoulders, eyeliner melting into our crow’s feet and sweating like my granddad after a day of harvesting wheat in the fields of Washington. We looked into each other’s determined faces and clearly saw Liberty on the move– motivating each generation to take their dreams a giant step further than the one before it.
More Than A Tale of Hat With a Tail
We stood round Liberty all day on ground that was purchased with the lives of valiant men. Children skipped about sipping on Raspas and waving Liberty Let’s Roll postcards in the air wearing Coonskin hats purchased at The Alamo gift shop. Daniel Boone and20Davey Crockett had joined the effort to gain freedom from oppressive rule while today’s reproductions of their novel headwear and weaponry are liberating money from many a mother’s purse.
The Alamo defenders resisted a government whose constitution did not recognize or protect certain inalienable rights. Their top three grievances were the omission of trial by jury and the right of the accused person to bail, the perpetual union of church and state requiring every loyal citizen to be Roman Catholic, and bestowal of supreme powers to the military. To be free from these and other oppressive laws, they were willing to give their lands, their fortunes, their sacred honor, and their very lives. They had tasted freedom in Northern states and chose death in defense of liberty. One of the flags they flew, “Liberty or Death” – obviously borrowed from Patrick Henry’s famous cry – succinctly communicates this passion. (Let’s hope that the kind of selfless courage that this literally “warm and fuzzy” headwear represents will never be relegated to dusty attics as my own sons’ coonskin caps, purchased eons ago when I first visited the Alamo as a young mother.) The authentic support that we were shown by a number of active and retired soldiers and their families stopping by to pay their respects to Liberty today only reinforces what has become abundantly clear on this incredible journey: that we live in the midst of heroes who are usually, lame ntably, unsung.
Sisters on a Mission
By four o’clock, the temperatures were peaking and The Menger’s expansive awning seemed to sag in surrender to the belligerent late-day sun. Just as we were packing up, I crossed paths with a Roman Catholic Nun in a long white habit emerging from a Baskin Robbins sporting a melting Jamoca Almond fudge cone and a suitably benevolent smile. Together, we marveled at the disparity between the 1834 battle that ensued so long ago and the Alamo today. There was irony, too, in the fact that the Sister’s mission helps to liberate mankind from their fears and failings, by way of the same Catholic faith that Santa Anna had hoped to enforce by decree. Yet that same religion now thrives in a land known for every kind of freedom — including freedom of religion.
A greater irony is the fact that people from the government that Santa Ana helped establish fled by the millions to the very republic he tried to destroy. The tiny army of legendary heroes who fell at the Alamo had grown in such numbers they now completely dwarf Santa Anna’s once-overwhelming force. We parted with a loving “God bless!” as we went about pursuing our respective callings that blur the line between secular and spiritual. As with all such artificial categories, freedom knows no boundaries…
Savior or Prison Guard?
I’ve listened to thousands of people on these tours whose passionate voices for freedom now=2 0echo as a unified chorus in my mind and heart. There is a sense of collective frustration that has grown into a mounting crescendo, which the sculpture seems to provoke. In sum, it encompasses a simmering dissatisfaction with how we as a people have collectively traded liberty for predicable security. We have become averse to the risks that come with dreaming big; instead, too many of us settle for mediocre promises from others. Only now, we find a very dear price is being exacted for our lackluster visions: the sanctuary we sought in exchange is not quite the safe-haven we expected.
The uncertainty that accompanies freedom lost its appeal when rescue from life’s natural consequences obscured its beauty. We are seeing that our “saviors” have also become our prison guards, and dreams have shrunk to fit within the limited confines they offer. Therefore, when an altered image of a beloved icon of freedom is depicted kicking through those barriers, it rouses innate desires to reclaim it: Liberty in action, criss-crossing America’s highways, stopping in towns, gas stations, art galleries, military bases, Wal-marts and RV parks piques imaginations and possibilities.
Epilogue
It has been a profound privilege to travel with Liberty waging war against such inevitable obstacles as heat, wind, controversy, fatigue, gas prices, misunderstandings and the occasional malcontent. The shoulders of the courageous men and women (made of no different stuf f than the rest of us) upon which we stand teach us how to move confidently beyond the prison walls of our latent fears. We confine ourselves behind obstacles, becoming victim to needless suffering.
In order to be truly human, we must rise above the feel-good, benevolent ideology of a duck pond where freedom is traded for fat bellies, and dreams are reduced to dry crumbs scattered by chubby little hands. Would you rather be taken care of by kindly zoo keepers or take your chances in the unpredictable, sometimes frightening but limitless, breathtaking beauty of the wilderness? Your answer reveals what kind of stuff your dreams are made of and if you are ready to courageously embrace Liberty and honor the lives who have gone before.
How Shall We Then Live?
From the luxurious insulation of 175 years, it is easy to critique the raggedy edges of the early American flags that were flown at The Alamo as they are whipped about by cultural winds of change. We have sprouted in bright profusion from the loamy soil from which their lives where heaped. How, from our supercilious vantage point, can we discern the motives of the lives that lent their bodies now turned to compost for our breathtaking freedom? In honor of them we must sink our roots deep and grow into the glorious and fragile bloom they watered with their blood.
