THE TRIQUETRA OF LIFE: Wisdom, Wealth, and Wellness

An Excerpt from Chapter Thirty–Five

Path Perilous: My Search for God and the Miraculous

One hundred four years after the Civil War, equality still had not reached the front seats of a bus.

September, 1969

The weather warmed, flowers bloomed, and my thoughts turned to leaving my family and stomping grounds—perhaps forever. It had become painfully obvious that my spirit and flesh had reached a crossroads, making it impossible to fulfill the hopes of my sorrowing parents by settling down, working a trade, marrying, and raising their grandchildren.

I reread Genesis and began to inhabit the call of Abraham to leave for another land.

I took it on faith that God would meet my needs and protect me along the way. Being thousands of miles from my family might help me remain on the path of austerity. How painful it was to realize I might never see them again—like a man knowing he was going totally blind.

I aimed for Florida, ticket in hand, leaving that Combat Zone hamburger joint behind for the fourth—and last—time. Boarding the Greyhound felt momentous; it was my first journey alone beyond the bounds of New England.

The long ride south carried me through unfamiliar landscapes—pine forests, red clay roads, small towns that looked weathered by time. At each stop strangers boarded and departed, their accents thick and slow, reminding me how far from Boston I had traveled.

When my bus pulled into downtown Atlanta, I felt immersed in a completely different culture. It had been almost a year since Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated in Memphis. Despite his sacrifice, putting anti-segregation laws into practice had proven difficult in the Southern states.

The injustice stirred my anger. I stepped deliberately to a water fountain marked “Colored Only” and drank my fill. When I turned from the fountain, a small crowd had gathered, necks stretched, waiting to see what might happen. Nothing did.

On the bus to Miami, I watched Black passengers directed to the rear. I followed them back and sat with them. The white riders glared at me, making their judgment plain. One hundred four years after the Civil War, equality still had not reached the front seats of a bus.

From the memoir-in-progress, nearing publication:
Path Perilous: My Search for God and the Miraculous
—a spiritual epic for truth-seekers, contemplative mystics, and all who long for God.

Visit www.RMDellOrfanoAuthor.com and pass it forward.