Onward and Upward

Wednesday, 8/20/08

We left Simi Valley and made our way through lush farm lands of ripe crops on Route 1 toward the coast of California. Migrant workers donned the appropriate protective clothing while harvesting strawberries and other delicious foods that are often shipped east. It is somewhere along this route that we picked up another riding companion-- Inez, the fragrant hula girl, who doubles as our air freshener.



Once near the water, we saw kite surfers riding the wind and the peculiar site of elephant seals napping on the windy beach. At first, they looked dead, but after a while their hilarious characteristics (like snoring) were observable. The coast is gorgeous. It was hard not to pull over at every vista. Cyclists whizzed by, and we even met (after being initially scared by) a stray dog who refused a piece of bread that Melody tossed him. However, he was content to lay down near the car and watch us as we took pictures and reveled in the beauty of God’s creation.

We had intended to make San Fransisco by nightfall, but instead settled in Monterey after taking in the sunset over the Pacific. We crossed the street from our hotel for a late dinner at Denny’s, where we could rest and recount the adventures of the day. After being seated, we could not help but notice a dirty and disheveled man seated at the bar who appeared to be homeless by the large pack at his feet. He would intermittently fluctuate from calmly sipping his coffee to jumping out of his seat, flailing his arms wildly, throwing punches in the air, and mouthing words at some unseen force that seemed to taunt and torment him. Other customers would steal looks for a few minutes and then look away. The staff would silently refill his coffee cup and ignore his behavior completely.

After observing him for some time as we ate, we quietly discussed what, if anything, we might do to help or comfort this man. Not wanting to make a scene inside and not knowing how he would react, we prayed for an opportunity to speak with him away from the crowd of the restaurant. As we paid our bill, he left his stool at the bar and walked outside. We walked through the door, and found him standing by a trash can nearby. Dan asked him his name and shook his hand. He introduced himself as Eric Josh. We asked how he was doing and he admitted that he wasn’t doing so good.

With some difficulty, he explained that he was a Marine who had suffered great injury, including head trauma, during conflict in his service to our country. Through our conversation, we learned that he was originally from Alaska and he was trying to make his way home. He said that he wasn’t afraid of the street, but he wanted clean pants and a tent to sleep in. When asked if he believed in God, he said no. However, when Dan told him that we believed in God and asked to pray for him, he immediately grasped Dan’s hands with both of his. We bowed our heads and prayed for Eric Josh and specifically for the things that he had asked for. Not once during our entire interaction did he slip into the tormented man we had originally seen. We bid him goodnight and crossed the street back to our hotel, continuing to pray for him. In the morning, we saw him at the bus stop, backpack in hand, seemingly in a right mind, and waiting for his ride out of town.