TUESDAY, JANUARY 20, 2015

AN ATTACK OF CONSCIENCE
 

Rick Archer's Note:

I would like to summarize why the story of Maria Ballantyne is so important to me.  I firmly believe Maria Ballantyne touched my finger in the same way Sam Maceo once touched hers. 

Mrs. Ballantyne's 1968 intervention felt so much like a miracle that I began a three-year search for the meaning of life during my college years.  Thanks to a series of very strange coincidences such as Vickie's ghost story, I came away with a firm belief in the existence of God and the existence of Fate as well.

In 1978, I received an invaluable lesson in the power of a "A Simple Act of Kindness".  First she explained how Sam Maceo's gift of an education was the origin of the phrase.  Then I witnessed first-hand how the gift of a couple hours of my time meant the world to Dr. Ballantyne.  This lesson inspired me to do acts of kindness throughout my career.

After I left that day, I assumed I would never see her again.  I was wrong.  27 years later she reappeared.  In 2005 I wrote a story about how I met Mrs. Ballantyne in my grocery store parking lot and published it on my dance studio website.  To my surprise I received more praise than anything else I had ever written.  It crossed my mind that maybe I should write more stories like this.  Lord knows I had a treasure chest of other strange stories to share. 

Several months later the 9 year old daughter of Maria's son Christie discovered my story on the Internet and told her grandmother.  Intrigued, Mrs. Ballantyne took a look.  Deeply touched by my tale of her immense impact on my life, Mrs. Ballantyne found me in the phone book.  We met for lunch the next day and renewed our acquaintance. 

Mrs. Ballantyne spoke for over an hour about memories from the St. John's years, many of which involved her close friendship with Mr. Salls, my Headmaster.  Fascinated by her revelations, I went back and updated my story to include the new information. 

In 2009, we met again.  When Mrs. Ballantyne discovered I was teaching her son Christie how to Swing dance, she asked to come along.  This was the night she dropped a bombshell.  Mrs. Ballantyne's off-hand mention of the day "Charlie" had been sitting in her living room was a signal that she knew my Headmaster far better than I had realized.  Two questions was all it took for me to learn that Mr. Salls, "Charlie" to her, had secretly arranged my college scholarship 40 years ago.  I was stunned.  Good grief, I had graduated thinking Mr. Salls was seriously angry at me when in reality he was my greatest benefactor.  Now that I knew the truth, I was overcome with sheepish embarrassment over my inability to figure this secret out on my own.  Once I got over my sense of foolishness, I wasted no time adding the role of Mr. Salls, a man I had long revered, to my 2005 story.  At this point, the size of the original story had doubled in size

Mrs. Ballantyne liked my revisions.  In early 2010, she asked her son Christie to bring her to my dance studio to discuss her thoughts about my updated version.  Expressing great satisfaction over having her friend "Charlie" highlighted in my second draft, she encouraged me to consider writing a book about my nine years at St. John's. 

For a moment there I thought she had read my mind.  During our conversation, the same thought had crossed my mind.  So that is what I did.  I began writing an expanded version of my original story to detail the importance of St. John's. The important thing to note is Mrs. Ballantyne's  strange obsession with revealing the details of her life had launched my writing career.  A Simple Act of Kindness was the title of my first book.  Given the importance of Maria Ballantyne to my life, no other title would do. 

The next revelation came from a different source.  In 2014, Kim Salls Jr contacted me.  Identifying himself as the son of Mr. Salls, he was excited to discover my Internet memoir included my admiration for his father.  Deeply touched by my account, Kim offered to sit with me and share whatever he could about his secretive father.  Several days later Kim's daughter Catherine Salazar sent me a copy of the diary her grandmother had written during a 1937 summer trip to Europe.   It told the charming story of how Catherine Morgan had met her future husband, "Charlie Salls", in a Munich beer hall.  As I read along, I was stunned to discover a reference to Fate. 

So far I had kept the tone of my stories rooted in conventional Reality.  For example, I had deliberately kept the word 'Miracle' out of my 1968 story.  In addition I kept the word 'Coincidence' out of my 1978 updated story.  However, the moment I discovered Catherine Morgan's passage about Mr. Salls and Fate, that became a thing of the past.  How was I going keep the word 'Fate' out of my ever-expanding tale about the people who helped me overcome my difficult childhood?  Quite frankly, these events had led directly to my belief in God.  There had to be a reason that Mrs. Ballantyne kept sharing all these details.  There had to be a reason Catherine Salazar felt moved to share her grandmother's journal.  I felt compelled to share my personal belief that "Fate" was not some mythological concept, but rather an active part of what we call "Reality".

This was the moment I decided I had a spiritual obligation to share my personal beliefs.  I knew this was risky step to take, something that would push me into the realm of the much-lampooned stories of UFOs and alien abduction.  I could just hear the laughter when people read the story of Rick Archer met the ghost of his dog at a seance.  No doubt there would be critics who would say my mystical mumbo jumbo ruined what had been an interesting story.  Others would challenge my right to speak of metaphysical things about which I knew little.  Plus there would be doubts about my sanity. 

However, my conscience said it would be dishonest to remain quiet my mystical beliefs.  After a great deal of thought, I finally gave in.  It was the right thing to do.  How could I write a book about Maria Ballantyne and fail to point out that our 1968 coincidence practically screamed "Miracle"?  Why would I want to write a book about my 1968 parking lot meeting and fail to mention why I considered this event to be a clear-cut case of Divine Intervention?  Indeed, as the years passed, the astounding Parking Lot Event had become the cornerstone of my belief in God.  Although the shift in my writing style invited ridicule, for better or worse I had to tell the truth as I saw it. 

My decision to add 'Fate' to the story of Maria Ballantyne required me to completely re-write the story.  When I finished, now I had another problem.  Mrs. Ballantyne had not read my new version.  What would she think?  My original 2005 story had avoided any hint of Divine involvement.  However, my updated version expressed my belief that the Hidden Hand of God had led her to my side that day.  How would Mrs. Ballantyne feel about being included in a book which covered controversial territory such as Divine Intervention?  Would my decision to include mystical possibilities offend her? 

Well aware there was a chance Mrs. Ballantyne would prefer not to be associated with my far-out ideas, she deserved the right to express her opinion.  To appease my conscience, in early 2015 I asked her son Christie what he thought I should do.  Christie replied this was not his decision to make.  He also added that his aging mother did not have much time left.  If I wanted her permission, this was the time to ask.  Christie said he would run it past her and get back to me.  The next day I got a reply.

From: Ballantyne, Christie Mitchell
Sent: Sunday, January 18, 2015 8:18 PM
To: Rick Archer
Subject: Regarding your visit to see my mother

Rick, I talked to Mom and she said that it would be fine for you to come by and talk to her. Her phone number is 7135244568.  I must warn you that her memory is often poor, very much hit or miss.   She may or may not be able to remember enough to help you as she is 94.  Some days she is very lucid so it is worth a try.

I suggest you try to see her some time after 10 and before noon when she is at her house on Tiel Way.
 

On Monday, January 19, I called Mrs. Ballantyne.  She gave me permission to visit her the following morning at 10 am.  It had been five years since I had last seen her. 

I was very tense as I drove to her house on Tuesday, January 20.  She deserved to know what I was doing.  Plus I felt sad to be told my aging friend was in poor health.  Christie had said she was frail.  This was no surprise.  After all, the lady was 94.  At that age, something was bound to go wrong.  With a heavy heart, I feared this would be the last time I would ever see her.  I was greeted at the door by a maid.  Ushered in, I found Mrs. Ballantyne sitting at the kitchen table.  Although I was glad to see her, Christie's warning was correct.  The seemingly indestructible Maria Mitchell Ballantyne was human after all. 

Fortunately, her mind was sharp that day.  Mrs. Ballantyne recognized me immediately and gave me a warm smile.  Her first words were, "Rick Archer, I know you!  You were in Katina's class at St. John's."