Yesterday I was early for a meeting so I stopped at Martin Luther King, Jr. Park in Winter Park. I haven't been there in many years. This is a lovely 23 acre park with a lake, sports and recreation facilities and a community built bridge.
Twenty or so years ago my husband, Ken, and I, along with many other folks, belonged to a group called Bridge Builders. It was formed to build better relationships between the traditionally African American section of Winter Park and the other part.
One of the projects, along with the city, was building this park. It was originally called Lake Island Park and was designed to bring these two communities together. And now, twenty years later, here it is, still doing it.
As I walked in the park yesterday, I remembered how, in the midst of this project, we learned that Ken was suffering from an illness that would eventually take his life. And that it would be an expensive process. How did we react? One of the things we did was to buy a separate brick for the bridge honoring every member of our family to symbolize the coming together of people and our hope for the future. I know some of our kids thought we were crazy.
But here I was yesterday, with the help of one of the caretakers, finding all of the bricks at the foot of the bridge. It was quite an experience.
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