Smeared Type

By Jian Ping

Site of Accident

I took the 1^st outbound Metra train at 5:55 this morning to give a talk at a Rotary Club in Algonquin, a northwest suburb of Chicago. Randy, a Rotarian at the club, graciously agreed to meet me at the Fox River Grove Station. It was a beautiful morning. As I read a book on the train, I couldn’t help from raising my eyes and looking at the trees and the buildings that passed by, their colors turning quickly from a light gray to bright gold with the rising of the sun.

As the train moved closer to my destination, I left Randy a message, telling him I was 10 minutes away. But shortly after I put away my phone, the train halted to a stop in the middle of nowhere. Passengers got restless after five minutes and I heard people talking over their phone, trying to find out what was going on. I picked up words such as “an accident,” “a pedestrian being hit.” The speaker on the train was eerily quiet. Just as I reached Randy over the phone, the train started moving. But my relief didn’t last long—the train pulled into the Barrington Station and the conductor got everyone off the train, saying this was as far as it could go. Fortunately, Randy offered to drive over and pick me up at the Barrington Station.

We managed to get to the breakfast meeting at Algonquin 20 minutes late. With the help of another Rotarian, I was able to hook up my computer to a projector and gave my talk after a quick breakfast. We rushed through a Q & A session and book signing. Donald, another Rotarian, gave me a ride back to the Barrington Train Station. We watched one train moving out of the station as we pulled in, and I was surprised to see the bright headlight of another train approaching. I thanked Donald and walked toward the platform. As I settled in a seat five minutes later, I heard a male announcer’s voice: “This is the 6:48 a.m. train. We are being delayed for more than two hours.” He didn’t give any reason for the delay and a conductor told me a high school student was hit and killed by a train earlier in the morning. My heart sank at the news.

Looking out through a window, I could see a few clusters of high clouds against the blue sky and the sun was shining beautifully, oblivious to the tragic loss of a young life. I couldn’t bring myself to imagine the fatal moment when the teenager decided to step onto the tracks as a fast moving train approached.

“Once again, sorry for the delay,” the male voice from the speaker brought me back to reality when the train moved into the Chicago Station. “We’re doing everything we can to manage the situation,” the voice continued. “It’s still a beautiful day out there. Let’s make the best out of it.”

I got off the train, nodding farewell silently to the conductor. Streams of people rushed out from the platform and moved quickly to get to their offices or other destinations. My thought turned again to the teenager who lost his or her life earlier in the day. I felt keenly aware of the vulnerability of life.

Yes, I thought of the announcer’s words, we sure need to “make the best out of it,” out of every day of our life.

(Only later in the afternoon I found online that the death of a senior from a high school was ruled suicide. His car was found 20 feet away from the accident site and an engineer on the train saw him walk onto the tracks as the train approached!)

Jian Ping, author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China. Visit www.moraquest.com, www.mulberrychild.com.

By Jian Ping

Ron Koller and me at Crystal Lake Rotrary Club

I talked with Ron over the phone a couple of times before meeting him in person. He called to invite me to speak at his Rotary Club at Crystal Lake and offered to pick me up at the Metra Train Station. As promised, at 11:30 A.M. on the day of the event, I saw a silver-haired man approach and extend his hand to me.

“You must be Jian,” he said.

It was not difficult to spot me, the only Asian, at a main street in Crystal Lake, close to the train station.  

It was a hot summer day, and I was surprised to see Ron wear a jacket. Most of the Rotary Club members I had met were in their forties to sixties, professionals who gathered regularly over breakfast, lunch or dinner to participate in club activities and networking.

“I’m 79,” Ron said, as if he had read my mind. “I’m the oldest member and have been active in the club for 40 years.” As we drove toward our meeting place, I learned that Ron was the owner of a car body shop at Crystal Lake and had been playing an active role in the local commerce and communities over the past 40 years. He was also a veteran who was at the Korean War in the early 50’s. “The U.S. and China were enemies then,” I blurted out. He nodded, appearing to be deep in thought as he looked ahead.

He soon changed the subject and told me he loved photography and two of his photos had won “honorary” mention and would be shown at the local theatre in an upcoming exhibition. One photo was submitted for “Peace for Children” in which he presented his two adopted Korean grandchildren; and the other was a scenery shot he took when he was traveling with his wife in Europe. As he mentioned about his wife, his voice softened. “We celebrated our 50^th anniversary two years ago,” he said. I congratulated him. When I received no immediate response, I turned to look at him. He was dabbing away tears at the corners of his eyes with his fingers. “My wife passed away last year,” he said.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. I was touched by his genuine feeling for his wife.

I lost my father two years ago and knew how painful it was to loss a loved one.

“We traveled to Europe three times and I’m glad we did it,” Ron said.

The talk at the club went well and Ron gave me a ride to the train station afterward. His grandfatherly manner drew me to him and I felt like we were friends. Ron asked me to notify him when the docu-drama film based on Mulberry Child would be released. “If it is okay with you,” he said. “I’d like to show the film to my local community.”

Ron bought a hardcover copy of my book and said he’d like to share it with his grandchildren—a total of 17.

Meeting with people like Ron and sharing our life stories for inspiration and understanding make the time and effort on writing and public speaking worthwhile and rewarding.

Jian Ping, author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China. Visit www.moraquest.com, www:mulberrychild.com