Blog

S.O.S.

Not long ago I stood where the ripple of a far-away tragedy would soon wash ashore—just as we will send the Pacific rippling back westward when—not if—our time comes.

We received the echo of Japan’s catastrophe like the other end of a tin-can walkie-talkie, string pulled taut. This time the waves are faint at our end of the cable, but the distress call is loud and clear.

It’s a one-way game of telephone. Operator? There is no ripple to relay back along the string. No words of comfort to speak into the mouthpiece. So we send out a beacon instead—and hope the message reaches the far shore.

On our coast, and in our hearts, we’re leaving a light on for Japan.