The Last Homely Home Mackinac Island, Michigan Day 58-65: July 29 - August 5, 2002  Back   |   Next

The Grand Hotel from Fort Mackinac We return to Mackinac Island with the Pope's message in our hearts. Everybody is pumped up. Though the week in Toronto was exhausting we are highly charged with our mission. I decide to stick around so that I bike the island trails, hang with friends, and witness the War of 1812 Battle of Mackinac Island reenactment. Sunset Over Mackinac Island The Marina I get to meet Br. Jim's great uncle. A Jesuit priest, Fr. Jake, who has been working in India since 1939. He knew Mother Theresa and Gandhi. Before he leaves, he invites me to work with him at a leper colony in India. I tell him that I must complete this journey before I go on a new one. Fr. Jake tells me how one time he had to defend himself. Some sacred cattle trampled his cornfield and in order to protect his food supply he sicked his German Shepard's on the cattle. The Indians came after him, and he was forced to pull out his club and prepare his dogs for battle. Luckily, nobody attacked and a temporary peace ensued. Downtown Mackinac Island It is now Sunday evening. Tomorrow morning will be August 5th and I will again set out west for Minneapolis. I have had a hell of a time updating this website because there is so much to do on this island and I have made so many friends. The last thing I wanted to do was lock myself up in a room and type all day. Rich Gallagher sent me an email while I was in Toronto. He has since moved on to Wisconsin and is probably well on his way to Glacier National Park in Montana. Yesterday, August 3rd, my good friend and Alpha Phi Omega big brother Dan Miller (DM), turned 22 and is now getting ready to tour Scotland. I have just finished a dinner--an Italian pasta feast of spaghetti with a red wine sauce of sautéed vegetables and sausages, which I made for the Rectory in appreciation for their hospitality. The Straits of Mackinac I find it harder and harder to leave this Mackinac Island. It enchants me. It calls to me. I find it harder to leave this island than I do my own home in northern Virginia. But the ride must go on. Mackinac Island is my movable feast. This island, Buggeyville as DM calls it, is my Tintern Abbey. If anybody is still reading this I hope that you pray for me. Don't pray for my safety, just my survival. So ends my summer fling with Michigan. Tomorrow I ride and we'll again see what new adventures the road will bring me to.