As we entered the quant Fresh Start Diner on Main Street in downtown Oberlin, Ohio, bells jingled as the door shut behind us.
“Just sit anywhere” the server said.
A quick glance around indicated that “anywhere” may have been a hallway in a former life but was recently transformed into an immaculate eatery with a long row of tables along the one wall and an equally long counter along the opposite wall. Fortunately a tall ceiling alleviated any sense of claustrophobia.
Off in the distance at the other end of the restaurant – not far from the vanishing point of the naked eye, we could make out two or three other people, presumably diners. Rather than heading in that direction, my partner Gail turned around and chose one of the two tables directly behind us. These tables were butted up against the sill of an imposing plate glass window that spanned the front of the diner. There we had an excellent view of Oberlin’s two-lane Main Street (aka State Route 58).
Menus appeared quickly. “Could I get you something to drink while you decide what you want?’
“Some unsweetened ice tea and a glass of water, please.” my partner responded. “I’ll have the same” was my response.
We ordered lunch. As Gail excused herself to wash up, I glanced out the picture window expecting to watch the afternoon traffic. After a few moments, it dawned on me that the only car within sight was our car parked a few spaces to the north of the diner. Well, it was a Monday afternoon in midsummer, and Oberlin is a college town so its students were gone for the summer.
Growing a bit weary of this two-week road trip that started in Colorado, stopped for a reunion in Ohio, and then continued on to Massachusetts and New Hampshire to visit more family, we were both glad to be heading back home. I could sense the weariness of traveling 3000 miles with 1500 miles yet to go. As my mind drifted, I began thinking about why we were sitting here in the Fresh Start Diner, sipping unsweetened ice tea and waiting for a tuna wrap.
Why did we venture off Interstate 80 and stop in Oberlin?
As elders, newly retired, parents of wonderful children who have grown to be thoughtful independent adults of whom we are very proud, our lives have now focused on Thomas Berry’s “Great Work.” Berry suggests today’s work is “…to re-invent the human at a species level, … to carry out the transition from a period of human devastation of the Earth to a period when humans would be present to the planet (and all life on it) in a mutually beneficial manner.” For Gail & I, Berry’s work translates to first becoming more aware, more conscious of our personal actions that are causing devastation to the planet, and then learning how to change our behavior so that we live the remainder of our lives more sustainably – with some degree of mutual benefit to our planet.
Now as we travel cross country to visit family, attend reunions, spoil grandchildren, or visit with friends, our secondary mission is to seek out examples of sustainable living. So we ended up in Oberlin, Ohio. Oberlin and “sustainability” are often linked together thanks in large part to David Orr.
A little over a decade ago, Gail attended the annual General Assembly of our church denomination that was held in Cleveland. As a part of that year’s program, the convention offered a side trip to nearby Oberlin for a tour of Oberlin College’s then newly constructed Adam Joseph Lewis Center for Environmental Studies, the brain child of David Orr. In the late 1990s, the Center became known as the first substantially green building on a U.S. college campus. 
On the way into town, we had driven through campus but did not locate the Lewis Center so we decided to stop for lunch.
Orr currently serves as the Paul Sears Distinguished Professor of Environmental Studies and Politics at Oberlin College. Just last month (June 2012), at the American College and University Presidents’ Climate Commitment Leadership Summit, David Orr received the Visionary Leadership Award for his pioneering efforts in the field of sustainability.
As I waited for Gail to return, I was gazing mindlessly out the window, still hoping to spot some sign of traffic, when I noticed a helmeted woman, probably in her 60s, was just getting off her bicycle in front of the diner. She leaned her bicycle up against a green iron lamp post and then disappeared. A moment later the bells jingled again.
“Just sit anywhere” the server said.
“I’m just waiting to meet a friend” the helmeted woman responded and sat down at the table behind me.
No one anticipated it at the time, but the Fresh Start Diner was about to become the confluence of an East fork of the quest for sustainability and a West fork – at least for a few brief moments.
Gail returned to the table, but along the way stopped and added a marker to the map on the wall to record the home town of yet another diner visitor. As we began planning our next step, our food arrived. Gail and I began to eat and strategize how we might locate this sustainability Center she has visited 10 years ago.
“Are you new to town?” the helmeted women behind me boldly asked.
Had our Colorado license plates given us away? Had she seen Gail at the Visitors map? In any case, Gail saw her chance to explain we were looking for the Center. To our surprise, the women indicated she was very familiar with it and kindly came over to our table, helmet in hand, to converse.
“Oh sure. To get there, just go up to College Street, turn left. Continue on to Professor Street, turn left again and then turn right on Oak [it was actually Elm but when you see one tree you see them all 🙂 ]. So why are you interested in the Environmental Center – what’s your story?”
Gail had just taken a large bite of her sandwich and with a full mouth, looking directly at me, I think she mumbled “Whydon’tyougofirst.”
So I gave a brief history of our recent experiences trying to live more sustainably – that a year ago we had added solar photovoltaic panels to our home, then a geothermal heat pump, and a few months ago replaced an old 1983 Volvo with a plug-in hybrid (Chevy Volt). I expected by now her eyes would be glazing over much like when I tell this story to our friends and family. But no. This complete stranger seemed to understand everything I was saying and even asked amazingly astute questions and commented at the end of my story that she and her husband Carl had just bought a plug-in Prius. I asked, “Why a Prius?” Her answer was right on, “Less risk with the technology. The Prius has been around a lot longer than the Volt – even though it only gets 13 miles on electric.” Wow! This person was a member of our tribe. [We had considered the same risk before buying the Chevy Volt, but the benefit of the Volt’s larger battery that provides 40 miles on electric-only fit our specific around-town driving needs better – we also wanted to promote U.S. technology and trusted the 100,000 mile / 8 year GM warranty.]
By this time Gail had swallowed and was able to say, “I’m Gail and this is Milt.” The helmeted women identified herself as Mary. Gail followed with her story, noting that she too owned a Prius.
Mary then proceeded to tell her story of moving to Oberlin from New York and how she and husband Carl built a Positive Energy Solar Home here in town. I expressed my enthusiasm in learning more about their experiences and asked if we could drive by and see their place? She looked at her watch and noticed that the friend she was supposed to meet had still not shown up.
“Let me call Carl.”
After a noticeably long number of rings, Carl picked up and Mary explained her friend did not show up but that she had meet two people who were very interested in stopping by to look at the house. There was a long interval of silence, several minutes at least with Mary nodding her head in obvious concurrence.
“Carl was out working the garden and doesn’t think he has time at the moment to provide a tour of the house. He reminded me that the reason he wrote a book about the house was to provide details of our experiences. He said that if the book didn’t answer all of your questions to just email him and he would be glad to provide additional information.”
“Carl wrote a book? That’s fantastic! Can we buy it from Amazon or Barnes & Nobel or….?” I asked.
“Sure, it’s titled ‘Trail Magic,’ by Carl McDaniel. They have it at Ben Franklin’s here in town” Mary indicated. “Just continue up Main Street two blocks and turn left on College Street – it is right there across from Tappan Square.”
Somehow during all this story telling, we had finished our lunch. As we left the diner, we felt a certain kinship to this fellow tribe member and thanked Mary for her story, as well as her directions to the Lewis Center and Ben Franklin Bookstore. Mary got on her bike, we wished each other the best, and she rode off to work in her garden. We drove off toward Ben Franklin’s just a few blocks away, found a parking place adjacent to the park just across the street from the bookstore. As we entered, we looked at each other and knew immediately we were in trouble. Bookstores can be a dangerous place – and it turned out that Ben Franklin’s / MindFair Bookstore ranks near the top of the list. There we purchased Carl’s book along with a half dozen others we just had to have.
When we returned to the car with our load of books, an elderly man approaching 90 years I’d guess, was hovering over the Volt. As we approached, he quietly said, “Does it have an extended battery pack?” He was probably wondering how an electric car from Colorado made it to Oberlin, Ohio.
“No, I said. On long road trips we just treat it as a regular gas powered car. It has been getting about 40 mph as a gasoline car so far this trip.” This kind, inquisitive, very friendly stranger and I talked for 5 or 10 minutes, standing in the shade of an old Oak tree in Tappan Square park on this hot humid summer day. I learned that before he was born, his parents owned an electric car – probably in the 1920s – but in his words, “Things changed. I’m glad to see electric cars are back.” We could have talked much longer, but he sensed we were eager to get back on the road, kindly excused himself and continued his walk in the park.
We did find the Lewis Center, took a self-guided tour, picked up some literature about the Center, and left with a general sense of how David Orr’s vision over a decade ago had been turned into a reality that in turn influenced our current awareness of the necessity to live more sustainably – assuming we homo sapiens wish to thrive on this blessed planet for more than just a few hundred years.
The Fresh Start Diner provided more than healthy, good tasting food for our bodies. The diner linked us to other people exploring ways to live more sustainably. As we headed back to the Interstate leaving Oberlin behind us in the rear view mirror, we carried with us an emotional connection to those we had just met – members of our tribe – people concerned about the future of the planet – people trying to be present to the planet (and all life on it) in a mutually beneficial manner.
When we arrived home, we were able to restart Berry’s Great Work refreshed.
For detailed information about the McDaniel Solar Home in Oberlin, see “Trail Magic,” by Carl N. McDaniel, Sigel Press, 2012.
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