LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 1

Jon walked down Broadway Thursday toward Tom’s to eat breakfast. He had taken this stroll hundreds of times after being at Columbia for five years during which he had eaten breakfast at all possible alternatives and found Tom’s to be categorically the best in Morningside Heights. It was a beautiful Fall morning. Monday he would begin the second and last school year at Columbia and in the Spring he would receive his MFA from the School of the Arts.

When Jon entered Tom’s, he was stunned. Sitting three down in aisle 3 on the right side in a booth by herself was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. After standing still for a few moments, Jon slowly walked toward this woman and stopped, then spoke.

“Hi, I’m Jon Witherston. May I join you?”

The young woman responded, “Sure.” Jon sat down.

“I’m Bian Ly. It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“I’m assuming you’re a student at Columbia,” said Jon.

“Yes, I’m a senior at the College. Are you also a student?” asked Bian.

“Yes, I am. In fact, I graduated from Columbia College a year ago. Next Spring, I’ll be receiving my MFA from the School of the Arts. I’m a poet,” said Jon.

“A poet! How wonderful!,” exclaimed Bian.

“Thank you, Bian. What’s your major?” asked Jon.

“I'm majoring in Human Rights,” replied Bian.

“The world needs to major in Human Rights!” said Jon.

Bian smiled.

At that point, the waitress came over and took their orders. Both wanted breakfast.

“That is a beautiful ring you are wearing on your little finger,” said Bian.

“That a Nacoms ring,” said Jon. “Nacoms is a senior society at the College. I was selected to be a member,” said Jon. “I was Head of NSOP. Where are you from, Bian?

“I’m from Hanoi,” said Bian.

“Hanoi is a long way from Topeka, Kansas where I grew up, but I did come East to attend Andover,” said Jon.

“I also attended boarding school, but in Hanoi, not Massachusetts. I graduated from Hanoi International School,” said Bian.

“It seems we have a lot in common,” said Jon.

The waitress brought their breakfasts, which they started eating.

After finishing their meals, the two chatted for about twenty minutes, then Jon said, “Bian, before I bid you a good rest of your day, I’d like to ask you if you might like to join me to visit the Guggenheim Museum to see a showing of Vasily Kandinsky’s paintings this Saturday afternoon then be my guest for dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant in Morningside Heights.”

“I’d love to,” replied Bian.

“I’ll pick you up about 2 p.m. Where do you live?” asked Jon.

“I live in Harley Hall,” said Bian.

“Hartley Hall–that’s where I lived all four years during my undergraduate days,” remarked Jon. “ You’ve got a couple of days to pick out your favorite Italian restaurant,” added Jon. “I’ll wait in the lobby for you.”

Bian smiled again and got out of the booth.

“See you this Saturday at 2,” Jon said as he waited for Bian to leave first. Then he just sat in the booth for a while and smiled, too.


Jon arrived at Hartley Hall a bit early Saturday afternoon. He sat in the lobby on a soft leather sofa. Hartley Hall. Columbia. Four years. It had been an amazing time. Chad Willington, a fellow Andover graduate from Richmond, Virginia, was his roommate all four years. A tremendous swimmer, Chad had been elected captain of the team both his junior and senior years. He was now working at Goldman Sachs on Wall Street. Jon’s most cherished honor while he was at the College was being elected by his 1,400 classmates to be one of 15 Class Marshals to lead the Commencement Procession.

Bian came into the lounge. She looked beautiful.

“How are you, Bian? Are you ready to go see Kandinsky?” asked Jon.

“Indeed, I am,” said Bian.

“Let’s go, then,” said Jon.

The two walked across campus on College Walk to Broadway where Jon hailed a cab.

“Please take us to the Guggenheim Museum,” Jon told the cabbie. The cab cut through Central Park to upper 5th Avenue.

“We’re here,” said Jon and paid and tipped the cabbie.

The Guggenheim itself was a spectacular piece of architecture designed by Frank Lloyd Wright that spiraled into the blue sky. Jon paid for the admission tickets, then both entered the museum and took the elevator to the top of the building. Then began the slow descent to the bottom on the long, spiraling walkway, pausing when they wanted to the see a Kandinsky painting closely and talking with each other about it.

Vasily Kandinsky was a Russian painter and theorist, becoming prominent in
the early decades of the 20th Century. Having moved first from Russia to Germany, he then went to France. Kandinsky was a pioneer of abstraction in Western art. He was keenly interested in spiritual expression:  “inner necessity” is what he called it.

It took quite a while to make their way down the spiraling ramp, stopping at almost every painting to share their views. Finally, Bian and Jon reached the bottom.

“Well, that was most interesting,” said Bian.

“I agree,” said Jon. “Have you decided which is your favorite Italian restaurant in Morningside Heights, Bian?” asked Jon.

“Pisticci,” said Bian.

“Let's go!,” said Jon.

They took a cab to Pisticci. The waiter brought them menus, which they began to peruse.

“You first,” Jon said to Bian.

“I would like the Insalata Pisticci (bed of baby spinach tossed with potatoes and pancetta with balsamic reduction). Then Suppe Minestrone (with a clear tomato base and al dente vegetables). Finally, I would like the Fettuccine Al Fungi (handmade fettuccine tossed with a trio of warm, earthy mushrooms and truffle oil),” concluded Bian.

Jon followed. “I would also like the Insalata Pisticci, then the Suppe Minestrone, followed by the Pappardelle Bolognesse, then the Burrata Caprese. Thank you.”

Bian and Jon ate their meals in candlelight.

“Tell me about growing up in Hanoi,” Jon asked Bian.

“I am an only child, Jon. My father is Minh Ly and my mother is Lieu. My father was the youngest General in the war;  nevertheless, he rose to second in command. He has been a businessman now for a long time.

“My childhood was like those of most children. As I grew older, I loved playing volleyball. I read a lot. I began learning English at an early age. I had lots of friends. I love my father and mother very much.”

“Why did you come to Columbia,” asked Jon.

“Columbia, as you know, is one of the greatest universities in the world, and it’s in New York City,” said Bian.

“Why did you choose to major in Human Rights, Bian,” asked Jon.

“The world, and the people and all other living creations on it, need kindness and love to heal. All have been sick for millennia. I would like to help heal Earth,” said Bian.

Jon was struck by Bian’s words. He felt the same as Bian.

The two continued to share more with each other. Finally, it was time to go.

They took a cab back to campus and Jon escorted Bian back to Hartley Hall.

“I’d like to exchange phone numbers with you. Is that OK with you?” Jon asked.

“Of course,” said Bian.

“Thank you for a wonderful day, Bian,” said Jon.

“And you the same, Jon,” said Bian.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 5

Jon sat in the stuffed chair by the fireplace for a long time. Bian had driven into Hyannis to do some shopping.

When Bian had mentioned during one of their chats she had wanted to “heal the Earth” during her life, that phrase–that particular phrase–had pierced his being, bringing fully into his consciousness the same overpowering sentiment.  Once she had uttered those three words, Jon’s life had been profoundly and permanently affected. He had even written what he considered to be a “commentary,” a brief, concise pathway that humankind could follow to save the world, to create Peace on Earth forever. He had had no intention of ever sharing it with Bian, until now. Jon rose from his chair and went into the bedroom and opened the closet door and pulled out the big cardboard box in which he kept all of his poems. Near the top, he saw his commentary. He lifted it out and sat down on the bed and began to read it again.

PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE

Turning the World Rightside-In

By

Jon Witherston


PREAMBLE:  All we have is our little planet, Earth. For the vast majority of my life, I have thought, “What would it be like to have Peace on Earth?” But for only two, maybe three, weeks every year, usually around Christmas, I would see the phrase “Peace on Earth," usually on Christmas cards. But after Christmas, I would not hear or see that sanguine notion for 11 more months. The longer I lived, the more this annual ritual bothered me. At Andover, I had studied European history. At Columbia, I had majored in American history. Over time, I increasingly came to the realization that in both prep school and college, I had essentially been studying about wars on top of wars and their aftermaths:  millions and millions and millions of human beings being killed. Then, when I got curious, I used my computer to find out that, according to many scholars, only a little over 200, out of roughly 3,400 years of recorded history, were deemed “peaceful.” Humanity, I concluded, had a horrible track record when it came to effectuating “Peace on Earth.” And during my lifetime things have not gotten any better.  
      
SPIRITUAL ECOLOGY:  There is one land, one sky, one sea, one people. The boundaries that divide us are not on maps, but in our minds and hearts. John Donne was prescient. Earth is as impoverished as its poorest Citizen, as healthy as her sickest, as educated as her most ignorant. If we pollute the upper waters of the Mississippi, then ineluctably we shall pollute the Indian Ocean. If we continue to pollute our air, the current 8,000,000,000 Citizens on Earth will die. All species will be accorded the same concern and care as Citizens of Earth. The imminent threats of nuclear holocaust and catastrophic climate change we need urgently to prevent. This is the truth of Spiritual Ecology.  

CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH:  If we can wage war, why should we not wage peace? Nations are anachronistic;  therefore, there will be
none. There will only be Earth and Citizens of Earth. Each Citizen will devote a sizable number of years of her/his life to the betterment of humankind and Earth. All military weapons--from handguns to hydrogen bombs--will be destroyed, and any future weapons will be prohibited. All jails and prisons will be closed, replaced by Love Centers (see below). Automation and other technological advances will enhance the opportunity for all Citizens to realize exponentially their potential, personally and spiritually. There will be no money. All precious resources and assets of Earth will be distributed equally among all Citizens. The only things Citizens will own are the right to be treated well and the responsibility to treat Earth and all its Citizens well. All Citizens will be free to travel anywhere, at any time, on Earth. All Citizens will be free to choose their own personal and professional goals, but will do no harm to Earth or other Citizens. All Citizens will be afforded the same resources to live a full, safe, and satisfying life, including the best education, health care, housing, food, and other necessities throughout Earth.

LOVE:  The only way to change anything for the good, for good, is through love. Love is what every living creation on Earth needs. Love Centers are for those Citizens who were not loved enough, or at all, especially at their earliest of ages. Concomitantly, they act out their pain hurtfully, sometimes lethally, often against other Citizens. Citizens who are emotionally ill will be separated from those who are not. Jails and prisons only abet this deleterious situation. Some Citizens in pain may need to be constrained in Love Centers humanely while they recover, through being loved, so they do not hurt themselves or others. In some extreme cases, Citizens may be in so much pain that they remain violent for a long time.  Thus, they may need to be constrained for the rest of their lives, but always loved, never punished. In time, Citizens, when loved enough, will only have love to give, and the need for Love Centers will commensurately decline.

EARTH:  In 1948, Eleanor Roosevelt chaired the commission that wrote the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. UDHR, with some updates and revisions, will serve as the moral and legal guidepost for Earth.

GENERAL ASSEMBLY:  To remember the former nations on Earth, one member will be elected by Citizens from each of these former nations to serve a one five-year term as a member of the General Assembly. In succeeding elections, Citizens currently residing at that time in areas that were formerly nations, will again, in perpetuity, vote for one Citizen also residing in that area, for a one five-year term as a member of the General Assembly.

FIRST VOTE:  The first vote of all Citizens will be to establish CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH. Majority rules. All Citizens will have access to Internet voting, as well as access to cell phones and other types of computers. Citizens will have her/his own secured ID codes. Citizens will have to be 18 or older to vote. Citizens will be encouraged to bring before the General Assembly all ideas and recommendations, as well as any concerns or complaints, which will be considered and responded to promptly. Citizens’ ideas and recommendations will be formed into proposals drafted by members of the General Assembly. Citizens will vote on these proposals of each month during the first two weeks of the following month. Citizens of Earth will be Earth’s government. Members of the General Assembly will be facilitators who will work with millions of volunteers. There will be no president of Earth.

ALLCOTT MOVEMENT:  If the multinational corporations that now rule Earth do not abide by the outcome of a majority vote in favor of CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH, Citizens of Earth will instigate the Allcott Movement, a one-at-a-time mancott, womancott, girlcott, boycott--hence, Allcott--against each multinational corporation unwilling to relinquish control of its global business and give it, and all its assets, to Citizens of Earth. Citizens will continue the Allcott Movement until all multinational corporations have done the same. All personal and smaller-business wealth will be converted into resources to be distributed equally to all Citizens. All proceeds in excess of what’s needed reasonably by each Citizen will be saved for future generations. No violence of any kind will occur during the transfer of these resources. Citizens will take these steps because they are the moral, the right, steps to take to save all living creations on Earth, and Earth itself.

CELEBRATE AND SHARE: If you were to take a photograph of humanity and gaze at it, you would see a beautiful mosaic of mankind of different, beautiful colors. If you could step into the photograph, you would hear a melody of languages and dialects. You could have a worldwide picnic with all your sisters and brothers and experience different customs and taste different, delicious foods. And in moments of silence, all of you could pray in your different religions, separate but together at the same time. You would also share the same human laughter and joys and feel the same sorrows and cry the same tears, all in Peace on Earth eternal. All of you would come to delight in these differences, not dread them. You would look forward to celebrating and sharing with your family, not killing them. The spiritual whole would be larger than the sum of its sacred parts.

A QUANTUM LEAP:  The world, over millennia, keeps evolving. Over 3,400 years of recorded history, powers, nations, keep shifting, sometimes seismically. Now is the time for not only the grandest seismic shift ever, but also the one that will save Earth and all living creations upon it. It is time for Earth to become one Earth--not a scattering of over 200 nations with artificial borders. Technology, with its innumerable advances, has made us into a world when all can become one. We are free to be our real selves, to spend our variegated lives not aggrandizing, but sharing and giving. Rather than dreading our superficial differences--our different skin colors, our different cultures, our different religions, our different languages--we can explore and enjoy them. Let us finally be what we truly have been forever, one big, worldwide family of humanity. No more wars, no more weapons, no more killing. No more hunger, no more homelessness, no more hopelessness. No more ignorance, no more illnesses, no more social classes. This is the quantum leap of which I speak.

PEACE ON EARTH:  Wealth is not worth. The mansuetude of loving and being love is. When love is your currency, all else is counterfeit. Citizens will be able to go about creating their own happiness that is built on love-based personal relationships and professional activities. No longer will human beings be able to profit from another’s pain. With love at the center of being and living, there will be no more wars, no more dictators, no more corruption. Finally, there will only be Peace on Earth forever.

Copyright 2026 Jon Witherston.


Jon heard the front door open and shut.

“Bian, I’m in the bedroom,” said Jon. “I’ve got something I want you to read.”

Bian came into the bedroom. “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s something you inspired,” replied Jon.

Bian kissed Jon on the cheek then sat on the bed.

“Read it, then we’ll chat,” said Jon. He handed the commentary to Bian who began reading it.

“Jon, when did you write this?” asked Bian.

“I wrote it after you shared with me your desire to spend your life trying to heal Earth,” said Jon. “At Tom’s. Do you remember?”

“I’ve always dreamed of this ever since my father told me about the war,” she said. “What I remember about Tom’s is when I told you I was majoring in Human Rights, you said the whole world should be majoring in Human Rights.”

“Of course, I remember that, too,” said Jon.


What Bian came to realize about her father as she grew up was he had become anti-war. He had come to hate it.

Two things she had never known about him, though. First, her father was one of the wealthiest men on Earth. Yes, she knew he was well-to-do:  she had grown up, after all, in a large, comfortable home, and her father had had the money to pay for her expensive educations,  Second, he had belonged, for almost two decades now, to a secret, worldwide group of extremely wealthy and influential men and women who wished for, and were working toward, a world that would never know war. This group was called SOCIETY FOR PEACE.

Jon did not dare tell Bian about what Chad had shared with him over the phone, about her father’s mega-wealth. Bian had never known about;  indeed, her father obviously had never mentioned, let alone flaunted, it, though he frequently traveled to many destinations around the world. Bian had always thought those trips had to do with his businesses, about which he never talked explicitly.

“I’d like to elaborate a bit on what you’ve read in my commentary, Bian, if you care to,” said Jon.

“Of course,” said Bian.

“I’m thinking about the poor,” Jon said. “The poor, and the extremely poor, on Earth, as the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund has put it,” Jon said, with more than a tinge of contempt. “Out of 8 billion human beings on Earth, roughly 2 ½ billion fall into these two ‘statistical’ categories. That’s more than 1 out of 4 human lives on Earth desperately trying to survive day-to-day.

“Here’s my idea, Bian,” said Jon.

“There are more than 7,000 languages and dialects spoken on Earth. Most of the poor speak those dialects. How to communicate with them is the biggest challenge. In broad strokes and succinctly, this is what I have in mind. I want to share this with you and hope you’ll be my partner.

“I want to travel Earth with you. I want to meet first the poor of Earth with you, speak with them, eat with them, live with them, answer all their questions about creating one land, one sky, one sea, one people. I want to talk with them about all Citizens of Earth cooperating with, not competing against, one another, creating Peace on Earth through love forever. If ever we can create a vote on CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH, I’m sure the vast majority of them would vote for it.

“We would start in Mexico, then visit the nations of Central America, then those of South America. Then we would go to Africa where there are so many poor and do the same thing. Then the rest of the world.

“Does all of this sound audacious, Bian? Well, it should, because it is,” said Jon. “Logistics will be beyond enormous, but in my heart, I believe there will be eventually millions and millions and millions of volunteers around the world who will wish to join in.”

Bian had sat on the bed taking all of this in, paused, then said to her husband whom she loved and admired so much, “Jon, you are a genius, but all of this does sound audacious. My first idea is to share all of this with my father and get his reaction to your commentary and what you’ve just shared with me. He knows the world probably as well, if not better, than anyother person on Earth.”

“A great idea!” said Jon.

“I’ll call him at 10 p.m. tonight. It will be 9 a.m. in Hanoi,” said Bian excitedly.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 3

Jon had fallen in love with Bian the instant he saw her. Staring at the Hudson River in early evening through his living room window, Jon wondered how it could have happened. Then he thought he could wonder forever, but it would never matter:  Jon knew he was in love, completely in love.

Jon was not only extremely bright, he was also extremely handsome. Beginning in junior high and then at Andover, he had had a number of girlfriends, which was also the case when he was a Columbia undergraduate.

But Bian was magically different from all his former girlfriends, ineffably so. As a poet, he had come to realize one should never force any creation. By extrapolation, he now realized the same was true about being swept away by Bian. It had happened. Rather than try to understand the miraculous, Jon now should just feel blessed and let himself be awash with joy. Let things naturally unfold, Jon concluded.


“Bian?” said Jon.

“Yes, this is she.”

“This is Jon. Do you have a moment to chat?” asked Jon.

“Yes, I do, Jon,” said Bian.

“How are you? How’s your week going?” asked Jon.

“It’s been busy, but that’s the way it usually is. How are you doing?”, asked Bian.

“The same. I have a question. This Saturday night, the New York Philharmonic is performing Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto. Would you like to go hear it with me?” asked Jon.

“I’d love to,” replied Bian.

“Wonderful!” replied Jon. “The performance begins at 8. If we take a cab, we should leave about 7:30, so I’ll pick you up about 7:15 at Hartley. How does that sound?” said Jon.

“It sounds great,” said Bian.

“Good. I’ll see you then,” said Jon.

Jon sat in the Hartley lobby waiting for Bian. He had gotten there a bit early. He began to reminisce about how Chad enjoyed playing classical music in their dorm room. Jon’s favorite was Beethoven. Over the years, Jon had listened to about every piece Beethoven had composed:  all of his nine symphonies, all of his piano concertos, all the sonatas, and his “Cycle,” all of his chamber-music pieces. Jon had even seen and heard Beethoven’s opera, FIDELIO. Though Beethoven became deaf, he never lost his “passion,” a quality Jon modestly thought he shared with Beethoven.

“Good evening, Jon,” said Bian as she entered the lobby.

“Good evening, Bian. You look lovely,” said Jon. “Shall we head out?”

Bian nodded.

The two walked to Broadway and caught a cab. They arrived at Lincoln Center in minutes. Attending a performance by the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center was quintessential New York City. Hundreds of music lovers–some in tuxedos and gowns, other in blue jeans–flooded into David Geffen Hall. After the audience quieted down, Jaap van Sweden, the conductor, strolled to the podium accompanied by generous applause. Then the orchestra began to play.

For Jon, listening to any live concerto by Beethoven put him into a dreamlike trance. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The glorious music wafted over him. In one sense, the performance lasted but seconds; in another, it never ended.

When the performance concluded, Jon asked Bian, “I’d like to take you to Terra Blue, a nightspot in Greenwich Village. Do you think you’d enjoy that?

“Sure. Sounds like fun,” said Bian.

As the two sat at a table in Terra Blue, Bian said, “You know, Jon, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund state that on average 10,000 children around the world die of starvation every day. These global agencies, to my mind and heart, care more about statistics than the well-being of children on Earth. This is unconscionable, and it’s only one of hundreds of injustices perpetrated on the poor throughout the world.”

Jon sat in silence for several moments assimilating both the statistics Bian had just shared, as well as the deep, emotional effect they were having on him.

“I remember too well the stories my father told me about the war as I was growing up–not just the killing, the endless brutality on both sides, the utter destruction not only of human lives, but also of entire villages and the human lives that were ended by both bullets and ******, and the world is continuing to commit atrocities on every continent, in every nation, in countless cities, in small towns–everywhere. Humanity now faces the existential threats of climate change and nuclear holocaust.”

“You’re right, Bian. You’re absolutely right,” said Jon.

The two continued talking about these and other related issues, and Jon realized anew how much he loved her, and now, how much he respected her as a human being.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 6

Bian spoke with her father that evening. Bian thought she had detected a good measure of surprise, if not excitement, in his voice. He would be in Toronto on business in mid-September. He could meet his daughter and Jon at 10 a.m. at the Ritz-Carlton on Monday, the 11th. He said he would leave a note at the front desk telling them which room he was staying in. He told Bian he always used aliases when he traveled, a fact she had not previously known. Understandably, Bian was thrilled.

Bian and Jon had enjoyed immensely the rest of the summer, as only on Cape Cod one can. They flew from Logan Airport to Toronto the morning of Sunday, 10 September. They arrived at the Ritz-Carlton around 9:45 Monday morning.

“I believe you have a note waiting for Bian and Jon,” said Bian.

“Just a minute, please,” said the clerk.

“Here,” said the clerk and handed it to Bian.

“Thank you,” said Bian. “Father’s in room #715.”

The two took the elevator to the 7th floor, found the room, and knocked on the door. In a moment or two, Minh Ly opened it.

“My dear daughter, Bian! How are you?” said Mr. Ly as he gave his daughter a big hug. “And you, Jon, how are you?”

Jon shook Mr. Ly’s hand as he entered the room.

“So good to see you, sir,” said Jon.

“Come in. Make yourselves comfortable,” said Mr. Ly.

“Mr. Ly, the first thing I would like to share with you is my commentary. It is an overview of what I would like to pursue with Bian,” said Jon.

“Let me read it,” said Mr. Ly.

It took a couple of minutes for My Ly to finish reading. He paused for several moments, then exclaimed “Jon, this is extraordinary!”

“Bian inspired me,” said Jon. “You know, Mr. Ly, I’m a poet, not a financier. It would take untold amounts of money and the best technology on Earth--unbelievable amounts of it--to realize this dream.”

“Don’t worry. I have friends,” said Mr. Ly.

"I envision Bian and I traveling around the world visiting the poorest sections of most of the biggest cities on Earth, using a translator when necessary to explain how we collectively can bring lasting peace to Earth. Furthermore, I expect not only the worldwide, but also the local, media to be informed of these gatherings," Jon said.

"You need to know I must always remain anonymous. Bian, you, and I shall need to meet periodically. I and my friends have developed ways always to be in touch, but will never be able to be detected. I wish not to elaborate. Jon, you inspire me the way Bian inspired you,” said Mr. Ly.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 20

"Jon...Jon," said Bian.

"Yes, Bian," replied Jon.

"Jon, you really do love everyone, don't you?' asked Bian.

Jon paused--a much longer pause than usual--then said "Yes, Bian, I do. It's because Maggie, our Black maid as I was growing up, loved me so much.  

"I love all 8 billion human beings on Earth. The problem is that I just haven't had the chance to tell each one of them this. Realizing our goal of passing CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH will be my first opportunity to do so.  

"I believe every child is conceived with the innate capacity--"the seed of love" I call it--to love, but that "seed" can only be germinated by being loved, usually, but not necessarily, by one's biological parents. If the child is not loved enough, or tragically not at all, then the child will not be able to love her/himself or others;  rather, the child will carry unconsciously varying degrees of pain caused by the child's lack of being loved for her/his lifetime, unless the child is later loved fully by someone else.

"The collective effort we are now undertaking is different from the aforementioned only by degree, not by kind.

"Earth, and the vast majority of human beings who inhabit it, suffer terribly from the dearth of love--not only emotional love, but also from the paucity of compassion, which is a form of love. Witness poverty and hunger and homelessness. Lack of universal quality education and universal free medical care. Profitting from the pain of others. Unbridled corruption and seemingly endless wars. Catastrophic climate change and the existential threat of nuclear holocaust. Life on Earth doesn't have to be like this."

Bian put her arms around her husband and gave him a big, long hug, then the two sat down together on their sofa.

"Bian, would you mind if I played my tape of MOOD INDIGO by Duke Ellington?" asked Jon. Beethoven was Jon's favorite, but he also enjoyed jazz.

"I would enjoy that," said Bian.

While they listened to the music, Jon reached in his satchel and pulled out his pen and a piece of blank paper and began writing a poem. Jon finished writing the poem as the music was ending.

"Would you like to hear the poem I just wrote?" Jon asked Bian.

"Of course," said Bian.

"The title of my new poem is JAZZ LIKE A RIVER.


JAZZ LIKE A RIVER

Jazz like a river, headwaters of ragtime
and blues, new orleans, chicago, harlem,
kansas city, armstrong and ellington, holiday
and fitzgerald, cotton club, 52 street, rapids
and rhythms, ******-induced sweetness
and savagery, swinging swing, rivulets
of cords and discords, til 3 in the morning,
mourning the demise of Bird, litany of
gillespie and davis, brubek's west coast
tributary, coltrane, roach, mingus,
ameriica's sinuous contribution to the
nile and amazon of world's music.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

Chapter 4

Bian and Jon began studying together in Butler Library. They read, they wrote, they laughed together. They got to know each other increasingly well. Their relationship, seemingly effortlessly, became romantic. They began to spend more time in Jon’s apartment. They became lovers.

Bian brought Jon a sense of happiness into his life that he had never experienced before. Not surprisingly, the same was true for Bian in a similar way, who previously, but not consciously, had always felt somewhat on the periphery of life in America. They complemented and enjoyed each other, so much so that full-blown love blossomed.

This is how the rest of the semester flowed. When Christmas break came, they decided to fly to Paris and spend the holidays there. Of course, they visited the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, and Notre Dame. They strolled down Champs-Elysees and through Montmartre, ate mostly at bistros, and took a trip to see Versailles.

Among other excursions, they traveled to Amiens to see the famous cathedral there. Overlooking the Somme River, the Amiens Cathedral was built between 1220 and 1270. It was the largest cathedral in France, twice the size of Notre Dame. Jon said the skyscrapers in New York City paled in comparison to Amiens Cathedral.

Back to Columbia, New York City, and Spring semester. When the weather warmed, they spent many week-end afternoons in Central Park, visited many other sites, ate all kinds of ethnic foods, and, of course, had breakfast at Tom’s often. Furthermore, Bian’s parents were flying from Hanoi to New York City to attend Commencement.

But the highlight not only of the moment, but also, and most importantly, of the rest of her life, was Jon proposing marriage to her the week before they were to graduate, which, in a state of both shock and pure joy, she accepted. He gave her a diamond engagement ring he had bought at Tiffany’s.

“It is such an honor and a pleasure to meet both of you, Mr. and Mrs. Ly,” said Jon. Mr. Ly translated for his wife who knew no English.


Commencement at Columbia was always a transcendental exercise. That evening, the four of them celebrated by having dinner at Eleven Madison Park, courtesy of Mr. Minh. Three days later, Bian and Jon were married in St. Paul’s Chapel on the Columbia campus.

Bian and John rented a cottage on Cape Cod for the summer. A summer of love it was. Sailing, relaxing, chatting, making love–all that two human beings could wish for.

Early on, Jon had called Chad Willington, his roommate for all four years at Columbia, to thank him for coming to the wedding.

“Jon, I just have to ask you this one question,” said Chad. “Is Bian’s father, by any chance, Minh Ly?”

“Yes,” said Jon.

“Jesus, Jon! Did you know that Minh Ly is one of the richest men on the planet?”

Silence.

Finally, Jon said, “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Not only is Minh Ly one of the richest men on Earth, but he is one of the most connected in the entire world. But most people, even the richest, don’t know how internationally influential he is. He keeps an extremely low profile.

More silence.

“I didn’t know any of this, Chad. Bian never mentioned to me even an iota of what you have just told me,” said Jon.

“Well, Jon, I had to ask,” said Chad. “I hope you’re not disconcerted.”

“No, no, Chad. I guess I’m just flabbergasted,” said Jon.

“I found out about Minh Ly when I was invited to join members of the top brass at a Goldman Sachs luncheon and Minh Ly’s name popped into the conversation for a minute or two. That’s all,” said Chad.

“Fine, Chad. Thanks for telling me this,” said Jon, then hung up.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 11




“Do come in! How wonderful to see you both again! Your visits are becoming the highlight for me every month,” exclaimed Mr. Ly.

Bian, before she said a word, rushed forward into her father’s open arms to be hugged by him. For almost a minute, Bian stayed silent in her father’s arms. She did not want him to stop hugging her;  it felt so good. Finally, Bian stepped back and, almost in a yell, said, “I love you!”

“My dear Bian, I love you too, with all my heart,” said Mr. Ly. “And you, Jon, it is always special to meet a person like you. You are my only son and I am blessed to have you now as part of my family. Please, both of you, have a seat.”

“Thank you, Mr Ly. I am honored now to be a member of the Ly family,” said Jon, then joined Bian on the sofa.

Jon spoke again.

“Mr. Ly, I have for you the information you will need to prepare the press releases you will send to all media and people you wish to inform about our imminent sojourn ? January 202. Here it is,” said Jon, and handed the pages to him.



Mr. Ly continued.

“Bian and Jon, I need to share with both of you the following. My friends and I will create our own Starlink-like internet company so no “Citizen of Earth”--as you, Jon, call all 8 billion human beings on Earth–can be blocked when each votes on CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH. Furthermore, we will provide cell phones to all CITIZENS OF EARTH.  And Bian and Jon, you will be able... to visit safely in all the more than the 50 totalitarian nations. How is this possible, you ask? It is possible because I and my friends have our ways. In addition, we shall translate your commentary PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE into all 7,000 languages and dialects and, beginning ? January 202, will send it monthly to all media according to which each uses. This will continue until the vote on CAMPAIGN ON EARTH takes place during the first two weeks of 202?. And, as you have told me, Jon, only love can save Earth.”

“Mr. Ly, you are, with the exception of your daughter, the most intelligent, the most compassionate, the most self-effacing human being I have had the honor ever meeting. You know, I’m sure, the difference between personhood and behavior. Everyone’s personhood is sacred, inviolable, intrinsic, whereas so many peoples' behavior is often uncaring or hurtful, or even much worse. It is not unusual to react to one’s untoward behavior with at least displeasure, if not outright hate, even on rare occasions with violence. But this latter response is unknowing. When one encounters bad behavior to any degree and wishes it were not so, do not exacerbate what is already deleterious by making it even worse through punishment. Instead, constrain this negativity, but love this forsaken person. Love is the cure for all those who suffer pain. It may take a lot of love to heal a hurting soul, even a lifetime, perhaps even longer. But love is the antidote for all emotional maladies. But for one to be able to love others, one must first be loved, preferably by one’s parents. This dilemma is what our world suffers from the most. Wealth, fame, power–all are illusory and therefore feckless. They are but unconscious efforts to compensate for lack of love, and that is why our world has been turned inside-out for millennia. Only being loved, and then being able to love, will we be able to turn our world right-side in. Then and only then will we have Peace on Earth forever, and for the first time.

“I lavish praise upon you, because you are a beyond-magnificent human being, Mr. Ly,” concluded Jon.

Mr. Ly sat in silence, stunned. Finally, he said, “Thank you, thank you, Jon.”

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 7


“Read me some more of your poems,” said Bian.

“OK,” said Jon and went to get the box that contained his poems in the  closet. He looked through the stack and selected several of them, then sat down next to Bian on the living room sofa.

“The first one I’d like to share with you is titled SOUTHWESTERN KANSAS.


SOUTHWESTERN KANSAS

When you fly to southwestern Kansas,
you see a different kind of Kansas.
The land is flat,
the sky is big and blue,
and the folk, the common folk, well, they get along,
the common folk get along in southwestern Kansas.

On a ranch down near Liberal,
the black night roars
and the wind is wet.
All are happy tonight, for there is rain
and tomorrow the pastures will grow greener.

In the morning when the sun first shines,
the hired hands
with leathered countenances
and gnarled fingers
awake in old ranch houses
made of adobe brick
and slip on their muddy cowboy boots
and faded blue jeans
to begin another day of hard labor.

On the open prairie made green by rain,
tan and white cattle huddle together,
munching on green grass and purple sage.
A new-born calf bawls.
Her mother, the Hereford cow,
is there to care
and the baby calf ***** her belly full
of mother’s milk.

About 60 miles to the north
and a little to the west,
The sun stands high in a blue sky
dotted with little puffs of white.
At noon in Ulysses,
folk eat at the Coffee Cafe:
Swiss steak, short ribs, or sweetbreads
on Tuesdays
with chocolate cake for dessert.

The folk, the common folk, well, they get along,
the common folk get along in Ulysses.
They got a new high school and a Rexall drug store,
a water tower and a drive-in movie theater.
They got loads of Purina Chow,
plenty of John Deere combines,
and co-op signs stuck on almost everything.
And they got a main street several blocks long
with a lot of pick-up trucks parked on either side
driven by wheat farmers
with silver-white crew cuts
and narrow string ties.

Things are spread out in southwestern Kansas.
A blanket woven of green, brown, and yellow
patches of earth,
sown together by miles of barbed-wire fences,
spreads interminably into the horizon.
Occasional, faceless, little country towns,
distinguished only by imposing grain elevators
spiraling into the sky
like concrete cathedrals,
are joined tenuously together by
endless asphalt streaks
and dusty country roads,
pencil-line thin
and ruler straight,
flanked on either side
by telephone poles and wind-blown wires
strung one
after another,
after another
in monotonous succession.

But things, things aren’t too bad in southwestern Kansas.
Alfalfa’s growing green
and irrigation’s coming in.
Rain’s been real good
and the cattle market’s really strong.
The folk, they got the 1st National on weekdays
and the 1st Methodist in between.
The kids, they got 4-H clubs and scholarships to K-State.
And Ulysses, it’s got all that the big towns got–
gas, lights, and water.
So the folk, the common folk, well, they get along.
the common folk get along in southwestern Kansas.


“The next poem is SIMONE, SIMONE," said Jon.


SIMONE, SIMONE

Simone, Simone
I’m all alone.
Simone, Simone
I’m all alone.
Simone, Simone
please come to me
and bear your breast
for me to rest
my weary head
and shattered heart
upon a part
so soft and warm.
Simone, Simone
I’m all alone.
Simone, Simone.


“The final poem, Bian, is TREE LIMBS,” said Jon.


TREE LIMBS

A long time ago,
I used to lie on my bed
and look out my window
and watch the big elm tree
as it died slowly.

And I used to watch the cars
as they traveled by,
some fast, some slow,
from right to left, and left to right,
and wonder where they were going to
and coming from.

Once from my window
I hit a bus with my BB gun.
I was scared
because I knew I wasn’t
supposed to shoot buses,
even though it was kind of fun.

And sometimes I used
to hide behind my curtains
and watch the pretty
girls walk by my house
in their swimming suits
coming back from
the pool in the park.

But mostly I just used to lie
on my bed and think,
and watch the big elm tree
as it died slowly.


“I love not only your poetry, Jon, but also how you read each one,” said Bian.

Jon gave her a kiss.

They drove to the tip of Cape Cod to watch the sunset, then drove back to the Twenty-Eight Atlantic to have dinner. Bian ordered oysters, lobster “Carbonara,” kale salad, and scallops. Jon had salmon tartare, chowder, baby green salad, and grilled octopus.

“Well, I’m excited!” Jon said. “We have a tremendous amount of planning to do, but we will have the experience of our lifetimes, and my greatest pleasure will be sharing it with you.”

“D’accord!” said Bian.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 10


Jon was thinking about Minh Ly. Jon knew he was beyond genius, but more importantly, Ly made Jon think of what Jorge Luis Borges had once written, that every person’s most important task was to complete successfully the transmuting of her/his pain into compassion. Ly had been the youngest General ever appointed by ** Chi Minh, and, in short, General Ly had had to order North Vietnamese soldiers into battle. 1,100,000 of them had died during the long, ugly, brutal Vietnam War. Minh had spent many days in tears. That he had had the fortitude to persevere and ultimately transmute his unbearable pain into compassion is what Jon most respected about Minh Ly. Because he was so brilliant, Ly initially threw himself into the throes of worldwide business at war’s end, amassing, over a number of years, massive wealth:  billions and billions and billions of dollars. Concurrently, however, Ly, overtime, experienced a life-changing metamorphosis. He came to realize that wealth was not worth, as Jon had written in his commentary PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE, that compassion was humanity’s most important goal, that only love could save Earth. And that was why he ultimately decided to use wealth not to buy as much of Earth as he could, but to use it to save Earth, to eradicate all the vicious inequities that had ineluctably killed billions of human beings over many millennia. Moreover, he secretly went around the world and met with his mega-wealthy friends, asking them to join him in this lifelong endeavor that he titled SOCIETY FOR PEACE, and many of them did join him. Now Ly and his friends were warring against war, fighting every injustice that caused horrid hell into which all the poor, all who suffered from myriad forms of racism through torture and death, fell. Ly was hell-bent on saving Earth and all living creations upon it. Then he met Jon.  

Bian, thought Jon, was as incredibly intelligent as her father. Of course, she was soft-spoken, but that belied her brilliance. After all, Bian has just completed the most rigorous, as well as the best, undergraduate liberal arts education to be found on Earth, graduating Summa *** Laude, an incredible academic achievement. Jon knew how much she loved her father, and he believed as well that his wife yearned, probably unconsciously, to emulate him. That notion alone was enough to cause Jon to fall in love with Bian, then propose to and marry her. Now she was co-parthers with Jon and her father to realize her wish:  to heal Earth.

“I wrote a new poem yesterday, Bian. Would you like to her it?” said Jon.

“Of course,” said Bian.

“OK,” said Jon who then reached into his satchel and pulled out the new poem and began reading it.


SOLITUDE AND GRACE

I will wander
into wilderness
to find myself.
I will leave behind
my accoutrements,
memories of medals,
of past applause
and accolades,
accomplishments that
warranted degrees
and diplomas
portending future
successes. I like
who I am, who
I have become. No,
I love myself, and that
is my greatest achievement,
the acme most men
are blind to as they
mistake wealth for worth.
Most would say
I will be lonely,
but they are wrong,
because I will always be
with my best friend ever,
my real self. And I will
share my joy with
squirrels and rabbits
and deer, with bushes
and broken branches
and brush, with rills
and rivulets and rivers,
with rising and setting
suns and countless
stars coruscating in
night's sky. I will say
prayers to piles of pine
and sycamore limbs
that once were live,
but now make monuments
I worship. I am at one
with all I prize.  My eyes,
even when they are closed,
see their beauty. I know
I will be blessed forever.
I lie on my bed, Earth,
and wait to join all
in solitude and grace.


“That was beautiful, Jon,” said Bian as she sped toward Logan.

“Thank you, my dear,” replied Jon.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 8


Bian and Jon began preparations with gusto.

Mr. Ly and his friends would  pay all expenses;  they would handle all details, such as reservations for air travel and hotels and rental cars;  they would contact the best interpreters in each country and pay them; they would contact leading newspapers and other news organizations in the world, including, but not limited to, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Le Monde, Times of India, China Daily, Russian Today, BBC, CNN, and MSNBC;  and they would contact the leading media–newspapers and TV and radio stations–in the largest city of each country prior to Bian and Jon’s visit there.  

Somewhat tired, but extremely gratified, they sat on the sofa in early evening to listen to Jon’s favorite Beethoven Symphony, #7. The Symphony’s second movement “was a jewel,” Jon said. Of course, he leaned back and closed his eyes as he listened.

When the recording was over, and after a silent pause, Jon slowly stood up, and without ever saying a word, reached down and picked up Bian, and holding her in his arms, carried her carefully into the bedroom where he stood her up beside the bed, then, slowly and softly, undressed her, and after he had pulled back the bed sheets, picked Bian up again and lay her on the bed. Then he undressed and got into bed beside her.

The room was dark and full of silence. Then Jon turned toward the woman who had brought limitless joy into his life and said to her, “Bian, who in the Heavens made you?” And then he kept leaning until he gently lay upon his wife, and these two lovers made love deep into the dark of night.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 12


Jon was thinking of Mietek as he and Bian were flying back to Boston from Lima, Peru. Bian, beside him, was asleep.

It was on a Saturday morning in early spring that Jon, then an Upper-Middler at Andover, decided to walk to the Andover Bookstore at 74 Main Street. He wanted to purchase THE AGE OF REASON BEGINS, Volume VII of the eleven volumes that constituted THE STORY OF CIVILIZATION written by Will and Ariel Durant from 1935 to 1975. It was a beautiful day, Jon remembered, a perfect day to go on a walk.

When he entered the bookstore, Jon asked the manger where he might find the book he wanted to buy. The manager told him he could find it down aisle Three halfway down on the right side. Jon thanked the manager, then found aisle Three, turned left, and walked down the aisle until he found the book he wanted. He pulled the book from the shelf and began perusing it.

Several minutes after Jon began reading, a man came down the same aisle and stopped about three feet to his right and began, as Jon had done, perusing a book he had pulled from the same shelf. Several minutes went by before the man said, “Excuse me, may I introduce myself? My name is Mietek.”

Jon was a bit startled, but nonetheless he responded. “My name is Jon. Nice to meet you, Mietek.”

Then ensued what turned out to be a long conversation between the two. Mietek was from Krakow, Poland and had been in the United States for about three months he told Jon and was in his mid-thirties. Mietek seemed like a cordial fellow, Jon thought, and continued to converse with him. Mietek had begun his tour of America. He had heard of Andover, as well as Exeter, and wanted to see the former, the oldest prep school (1776) in the United States. The two talked of many things. Finally, after a pause, Mietek asked Jon, “Jon, I’d like to stare into your eyes.”

“What?” Jon said.

“I’d like to stare into your eyes to read the tapes that will tell your future,” said Mietek.

“Tapes?” asked Jon quiizzically.

“Yes” replied Mietek. "Everyone has tapes in his eyes that tell that person’s future, but very few can see and read them. Obviously, I’m one of them.”

Jon paused more than a moment, then said to Mietek, “OK, let’s do it.”

Mietek had Jon stand directly in front him and asked him to open his eyes widely. When Jon complied, Mietek began staring into his eyes. Mietek stared into Jon’s eyes for several minutes, then stopped.

“You can relax now. I’d like to share with you what I saw,” said Mietek.

“Sure, Mietek, I’d like to know what you saw,” said Jon eagerly.

“I saw joy, Jon” said Mietek. "The rest of your life will be full of joy.”

Jon was dumbfounded. He could not say a word. Finally, he said, “Joy? My life will be full of joy?

“Yes, Jon, that’s right,” said Mietek.

The two stood facing each other in silence for several minutes. Then Mietek told Jon had to go and slowly walked out of the Andover Bookstore.


Jon came out out of his reverie and looked at Bian. She was still asleep.

“Jesus, I think Mietek was right. Ever since I first saw Bian, my life has been full of joy,” Jon thought to himself. “Joy, pure joy!”

The rest of November and early December were full of much research, comparing each other’s thoughts and ideas, and the building excitement as the two anticipated the beginning of their two-year trip around the world.

Cape Cod was now cold, but the hearts of Bian and Jon were increasingly warm.

LOVE AND LOVERS (31)

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 31


All people live downstream.

The greatest rage is when you scream so loud you cannot hear the scream.

Danger has anger in it, tragedy rage.

Anonymity vitiates worth.

First, do no harm.
Second, do no harm.
Third, do no harm.
Fourth,....

Pills are now our pillows.

FORTUNE 500 vs. MISFORTUNE 7,000,000,000

Knowledge sees that all are different, wisdom that all are one.

You cannot hoard love.

We are ordained when the sun touches our brow.


Back in their hotel room, Bian sat down with Jon.

"You know, of course, Jon, that the poor and extremely poor of the world earn less than $2 a day. That's about one-in-four of all Citizens of Earth. Unconscionable!" Bian said.

"You know as well inequalities such as fewer rights and resources are primarily  based on caste, gender, ethnicity, and tribal affiliation. Decades of civil war across the globe have exacerbated these injustices.  Now violence on local levels has become
increasingly injurious. Hunger and malnutrition stunt the lives of billions, weakening their strength and energy while debilitating their immune systems making them all the more susceptible to illnesses that hinder or **** them.

"Moreover, without viable health-care systems--especially for mothers and children--illnesses like malaria, diarrhea, and respiratory infections can be fatal. Furthermore, pregnancy and childbirth can be death-dealing.

"Over two billion Citizens of Earth don't have access to clean water at home. Contaminated water leads, of course, to waterborne diseases. Poor water infrastructure abets this deleterious situation.

"The catastrophic climate crisis Earth is now enduring, say experts, will push more than 100 million people into poverty over the next decade."

Jon stood up and gave Bian a big hug and a sweet kiss.


Mr. Ly and his friends had many, many other friends, large groups of whom lived in every nation on Earth. All were anonymous and all were devoted to creating  PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE.

Concomitantly, these groups discreetly followed Bian and Jon into the country the two had just left and began helping the poor:  food, water, housing, health care, education--in any way they could.

Love is contagious.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 25



"Of course, all people are different one from another, each in her/his own way," said Bian to Jon, "but in a superficial way, only. But where it matters--that is to say, in their hearts--they are one. All need love. All are love."

"All is love. Cosmos is love. When I am in your presence, Bian, I am enveloped by love. When I chat and laugh with you, when I hold and kiss you, when I make love with you, all becomes love," said Jon.

"Read me another of your love poems, Jon," asked Bian.

Without a word, Jon walked toward his satchel, opened it, found the poem he wanted to share with his wife, and began reading.


BETWEEN MY HEART AND HANDS

Between my heart and hands, I
hold you. I told you so yesterday,
a day that lasted longer than a long
summer. I come to you with no noise,
no pretense. I am poised to press you
against me and let my hair mingle with
yours. I am aroused to put my lips on
your neck, my hands on your curves.
I am satisfied for a moment, but then you
overwhelm me, and again I am insatiable.
This clarion call is to consume you. Do
I dare lay you down in the grass, to love
you, alas, 'til day becomes night, and
night tomorrow?


In bed, their world became timeless. Moments became murmurs, minutes cries of passion.


Over breakfast, Bian and Jon enjoyed talking about Pablo Neruda and Che Guevarra whose hometowns they would be visiting in Chile and Argentina, respectively.

Pablo Neruda was born 12 July 1904 in Parral, Maule Region, Chile. He was a poet, diplomat, and politician. In 1971, he won the Nobel Prize in Literature. Among the most famous of his collections is TWENTY LOVE POEMS AND A SONG OF DESPAIR. Neruda was a  close adviser to President Allende. Concurrent with dictator Pinochet's coup d'etat in 1973, Neruda left the hospital where he was being treated for cancer, fearing he might be killed by one of Pinochet's agents. Neruda died on 23 September 1973 in Santiago at the age of 69. The cause of his death is still being debated.

Che Guevarra was born on 14 June 1928 in Rosario, Argentina. He was a physician, a writer, and a Marxist guerrilla leader. He traveled as a medical student throughout South America and was enraged by the hunger, poverty, and disease he saw everywhere. Later, he met Fidel Castro in Mexico City and joined the "26th of July Movement." In Cuba, he became second-in-command to Castro. Guevarra was murdered by CIA-affiliated Bolivian forces on 9 October 1967. He was 39-years-old.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 28  

TURNING THE WORLD RIGHTSIDE-IN

"I will never **** another human being, but I will die any time to save any other human life," said Jon to Bian.

Bian paused, then hugged her husband in silence for several minutes. "I will love you forever," said Bian as tears poured down her face.

They sat down together on the sofa. Neither had need to utter another word for a prolonged time.

Finally, Jon said, "We ought to have a Worldwide Picnic before the vote on CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH. Citizens of Earth from what are now nations would be chosen by lottery to attend. All expenses would be paid for. Facets of each ethnic culture would be shared through programs and other offerings. Living arrangements would be provided. Translators of all languages and dialects would facilitate communications."

"Jon, this is a great idea! I'm sure Father and his friends would feel the same."

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 15

Please read to me again A CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, one of my most favorite poems you have shared with me, Jon,” asked Bian.

“Sure,” said Jon. He reached again into his satchel and pulled out the poem.


A CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

I makes $7.50 an hour. I sweep up behind others.
I's gittn to be an ol man. My two uncles got lynched outside Greenville.
I quit school when I were 13, but I served my country in Vietnam
to **** our enemies. Lost most of my left arm. Makes it harder
to push a broom. I takes the bus to home and work.
Thanks to Mrs. Parks I don't have to sit in the back no more.
I go fishin to get away from it all.
Catfish--that's what I like to catch.
Fry 'em up real good.
When I was a kid, had to get off the sidewalk
to let them white ladies go bye.
To be honest, things hasnt changed much in Mississippi.
Don't go out in the night--you might get shot for no good reason.
I's stills remember the KKK in them white robes.
All them burning crosses.
Now them folks where coats and ties.
Well, I gots to *** back to work or theyll kick me out.
You have a good night, ya hear.
Thanks for bein so nice to me.

“Thank you, Jon,” said Bian.  “That’s one of my most favorite poems you have shared with me so far.”

“You’re more than welcome, my dear,” replied Jon.

“Here’s another one I wrote especially for you,” said Jon.


CHIAROSCURO  LOVE

Chiaroscuro love, embrace
me with your body sensuous,
kiss me with your eyes chocolate,
hold me with your being candescent,
undress me while we're dancing in
the night chiaroscuro. Light and shadow
illuminate our love upon more love.


“Oh Jon, how do you do this?” asked Bian.

“I do it because I love you,” said Jon.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 29

"Have I told you about Hechamiah Moore?" Jon asked Bian.

"No," said Bian.



"It was in the Fall of my junior year at Columbia. I was heading to Tom's to have breakfast. As I walked toward 112th Street on Broadway, I saw a tall Black man holding a styrofoam cup hoping those who walked by him might drop a quarter or two into it.

"When I got to where the man was standing, I stopped in front of him. My stopping right in front of him surprised him, I'm sure. I stuck out my right arm hoping to shake his, and as I did, I said, 'My name is Jon Witherston. What's your name?' The man was incredulous. Finally, after a long, awkward pause, he said, 'Hechamiah.' I said, 'Hechamiah what.' There was another long pause. Finally, he said, 'Hechamiah Moore.' I then said, 'It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moore. I'm on my way to have breakfast at Tom's Restaurant. Would you like to join me and be my guest?' Mr. Moore was stunned. Another long pause. Finally, Mr. Moore said, 'OK.' So we began walking down Broadway toward Tom's Restaurant, and as we walked, we started chatting.

"I found out Mr. Moore was from North Carolina, had married his sweetheart when both were 16, then came to New Jersey where Hechamiah got a job in some kind of factory. But ten years prior to our meeting, his wife died unexpectedly. Hechamiah told me he just couldn't stand it, so he started drinking and couldn't stop. Eventually, he was fired, and for the past eight years had been homeless.

"At this point, we reached 112th Street and had to cross Broadway to enter Tom's Restaurant. We crossed half of Broadway in the middle of which was sort of an island on which there was a couple of benches. There, Hechamiah just stopped. I asked him, 'What's wrong, Mr. Moore?' Hechamiah, after another pause, said to me, 'I don't think they want me in there.' I paused this time, then I said, 'Mr. Moore, there are two reasons why you are going into Tom's with me:  First, you are my friend. The second is the United States Constitution.' Another pause. Hechamiah then stepped off the curb of the island and began to walk across the other half of Broadway. I followed him.

"We entered Tom's, first Hechamiah then I. I saw an empty booth in the rear of the restaurant. I walked ahead of Hechamiah to the booth, then we both took a seat. I could feel and see Hechamiah was extremely nervous. A lovely middle-aged waitress came over and handed each of us a menu. When she returned a few minutes later, she asked what would we like to order. I told her Mr. Moore was my guest. She looked at Hechamiah and asked him what he wanted to order. "Some coffee and a glass of orange juice," Hechamiah said. "That's all you want, Mr. Moore?" Jon said with surprise.  He nodded yes. Jon ordered his regular breakfast.

"The waitress brought our meals in a matter of minutes. Hechamiah having drunk his cup of coffee and drunk his glass of orange juice, I said, "Are you sure you don't want something else to eat, Mr Moore?" I could see and feel Mr. Moore was becoming increasingly at ease as we shared our food and conversation. He said, in fact, he would. When our waitress came by again, Hechamiah was so relaxed that he had started to joke with her. "I'd like what Mr. Witherston had," said Hechamiah. The waitress smiled, then said, "Great!"

'Hechamiah finished his meal in short order. It was time to leave Tom's. When we reached the entrance, Hechamiah tried to push the door open, but when he had the door just half open, he turned around and said to me, "Mr. Witherston, you are a kind man." I said to Hechamiah, "Mr. Moore, you are a good man." We both stepped onto the sidewalk and shook hands and began to walk in different directions into the same sunlight, but with our stomachs, and our hearts, much fuller than they had been."


Jon turned out the lamp next to the bed, then leaned over and gave Bian a kiss on the cheek.

"Good night, my love," Jon said, then laid his head upon his pillow and closed his eyes.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 30


Humanity has had a hard time growing up, Jon thought as he stood looking out the hotel window.

"Jon...," said Mr. Ly.

"Yes, Mr. Ly," replied Jon.

"I have updates I'd like to share with Bian and you," said Mr. Ly.

"Of course," said Jon.



The three took a seat.

"I have extremely good news. First, let me talk about Earth's greatest existential threat: nuclear holocaust," said Mr. Ly. "My friends and I know the whereabouts of every hydrogen bomb on Earth. Many are known worldwide; others are kept secret. Further, we have developed a way to render everyone of them useless, whether launched or not. Our method cannot be detected. Earth will never be destroyed by hydrogen bombs.

"Further, we have developed a way to desalinate ocean water, thereby creating potable water, cheaply and limitlessly, for human consumption and agriculture. Nuclear power will need not be used to realize this goal."

All three sat silent. Bian and Jon, stunned, joined hands.

Finally, Jon said, "Mr. Ly, this is, of course, incredible news! It will be hard not to shout this to the world now and forever!"

"You are correct, Jon, but we will not make these discovers public until several months before the vote on CAMPAIGN FOR EARTH takes place.

"My friends are as smart as Bian and you. They are determined to save Earth. They use their power to empower others, not to oppress them. Now they will use their genius to right all other wrongs that afflict humankind. Their wisdom, their fortitude,, their bravery--all are love!"

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 26

"I still suffer from PTSD. I take medications to help me sleep. Those bodies, all those bodies, arms, legs, bodies with no heads, old people, young men, children slaughtered, so many burnt to ashes and blackened bones by ******. Screams as loud as bombs exploding, silence louder than children laughing, a nightmare that has lasted years. And I ordered thousands and thousands and thousands of young men to their deaths, and now I cry myself to sleep. The medals, the ribbons pinned on my chest I came to detest. I have long ago burnt all my uniforms, but I cannot extinguish the horrors I planned and ordered. Love, and only love, gives my some solace. Love is my salvation, my only salvation."

Mr Ly then sat down on the sofa, wiping tears pouring down his checks. Bian and Jon sat on either side of him, holding him, hugging him. Not a word could be said. Only silence could be shared.

Finally, Bian said to her father whom she loved so much, "Father, forgive yourself. Love is the weapon against war. Killing, murdering, mutilating have been the way of human life for millennia, but now you and many others are fighting to right this wrong and bring everlasting peace to Earth."

The sun was beginning to set in Johannesburg. The three walked out on the balcony.

"After we defeated the French, I remember walking with my best friend to the beach. We threw rocks into the ocean. We were just boys having fun. We would roll up our pant legs and walk into the waves, splashing each other with our hands. We laughed. We were boys. Little did we know that we would be next, that so many who had been our childhood friends would also need to fight the fire of battle and death, that so many of them would have to perish."

The sun set below the ridge of Witwatersrand and the three walked back inside.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by  

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 19

"Racism is the worst form of mental illness, and, as such, is, *****-nilly, the origin of all invidious forms of worldwide inequality and iniquity," said Jon said to Bian.

"Take slavery and genocide as examples. If a human being believes her/his worth is rooted in the color of her/his skin or the slant of her/his eyes, then she/he is sick, terribly ill. Concomitantly, their behaviors toward others flow, usually unconsciously, from these odious falsehoods.

"Moreover, take our own nation:  slavery and genocide were the immoral engines that fueled both the economic growth and the territorial expansion westward. By1861, there were 4,000,000 black slaves in the Confederacy, not one of whom had a single legal right. "Manifest Destiny" in reality was the period between 1860 to 1890 when the U.S. Army decimated those indigenous peoples still alive, either slaughtering them or forcing them onto "reservations."

"Racism is but the child of slavery, and racism permeates today not only all of America, but also all of the world. To realize Peace on Earth forever, we must help the billions who suffer still from these myriad forms, not through penalties and punishment, but only through unconditional love."

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 18

They lay side-by-side on the bed. Bian was sleeping. Jon, also asleep, was dreaming.

(...an old white lady in a white uniform tried to teach me how to tie my shoes, a red wagon, lying in the space above the back seat of the chevrolet, coming back from grandma's watching the tree limbs go by above as we drove home, snow--lots of it--sliding down the big hill on our sleds, saying hello to darrell, the bully, in 3rd grade as other classmates ran away from him because they were afraid of him, my friend, Bruce, who would not trade nolan ryan for my george brett, ms. perrin, my 4th grade teacher, one of the best I ever had, who died of cancer two years later, virginia bright, my first girlfriend, who took me to her church sunday nights to learn how to square dance, my dog, cinder, my best friend growing up, my red bike that took me everywhere, embarrassed at the y because my right ******* was not fully descended, maggie, my black mother, who fed me breakfast--two poached eggs, buttered wholewheat toast, grits--every morning washed my ***** clothes, spanked me when i needed a spanking, hugged me when i need a hug, loved me when my mother couldn't because she was so depressed, always making straight-a's, dad taking me to kansas city to take a test (he never told me it was an iq test), asking patty to dance the first two dances--we danced alone at the center of the basketball court as the music began to play at the "snowball dance" when none of our other classmates would ever get near her--being elected co-captain of the football team and the city-championship basketball team, being elected president of the student council at roosevelt junior high, elected president of the sophomore class at topeka high school by my over-800 classmates, pushed by dad to andover my junior year, choose columbia over yale (the core curriculum and new york city), a member of blue key, nacoms, and elected by my over-1,400 classmates one of 15 class marshals to lead the commencement procession...)

LOVE AND LOVERS

by  

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 16

Jon was reflecting on the Peloponnesian Wars between Athens and Sparta in ancient Greece that he had studied as part of Columbia College’s CORE CURRICULUM.

Plato’s interest in ethics and political philosophy was greatly affected by Athens's abuses of power against weaker people, the exile of relatives, the disintegration of democratic values, and the rise of the oligarchy. Athens was eventually defeated by Sparta.

So what has changed, for the better, Jon thought. Essentially nothing. If anything, things on Earth have gotten progressively worse. All in all, this was why he was so moved, so adamant in his, and Bian’s, shared desire to turn the world “right-side in.” A Herculean task? Of course it was! But, in truth, every endeavor worth undertaking was, in its own way, a Herculean task. And what better task was there than righting wrongs, than saving our only home and all creations upon it.

During these solemn, solitary interludes, Jon often found both solace and renewed fortitude by reading poems he had written. This was one of those moments.


WE HAVE MINED OUR MOUNTAINS

We have mined our mountains,
we have fished our seas,
we have felled our forests,
we have gathered our grains,
but we have not yet embraced
the infinite energy of our souls,
which is love.


EVENING

It will get dark soon.
The white, yellow, and pink
houses will turn grey,
then black. The cacophony
of car horns will turn into
the chorus of locusts.
Summer's night will lay
a sheet of tranquility over
a city harassed by exigent
matters that matter not.
Soporific silhouettes will
soften the cityscape,
allowing us to escape
the frazzle of the hot day,
exchanging the frenetic
for the peaceful, the welter
for a sense of the well-being.
The susurrus of the evening
breeze blows the exhaust
of our polluted lives into
a distant day. Children play
in yards back and front and
laughter wafts through
neighborhoods like the sweet
smell of barbeque, not the
fetid odor of finance and
foreclosures. There is a
sense of closure to this day.
As the sun sets, our eyelids
close, and we pray for the
soft rain of forgiveness.


ARE WE ALL NOT IDIOMS

Are we all not idioms,
peculiar to ourselves
in construct and meaning?
Are not all of us
syntactical anomalies?
Do we not all have elliipses,
lacunae, egregious gaps
in our beings? Lack of
parallel construction in
our lives, dangling like
participles, a pronoun
without its antecedent?
Are not our lives run-
on sentences handed
up by unconscious wishes
and unmet needs? Too
bad we could not be
more declarative and
less rhetorical or
imperative.


THOSE WHO RULE

We shall keep the poor poor.
We shall be on them like
a master's whip on the backs
of slaves;  but they will not
know us: we are too far and
too close. We shall use the
patois of patriotism to patronize
them. We shall hide behind our
flags, while we hold only one pole.
We shall have the poor fight our
wars for us, and die for us;  and
before they die, they will **** for
us, we hope, enough. In peace,
we shall piecemeal them, and serve
them meals made of toxins and tallow.
For their labor, we shall pay them
slave wages;  and all that we give,
we shall take back, and more, by
monumental scandals that subside
like day's sun at eventide. We shall
be clever, as ever, circumspect and
surreptitious at all times. We shall
keep them deluded with the verisimilitude
of hope, but undermine always its
being. We shall infuse their lives
with fear and hate, playing one
race against another, one religion
against a brother's. Disaffection is
our key;  but we must modulate our
efforts deftly, so the poor remain
frightened and angered, but always
blind and deaf and divided. And if,
perchance, one foments, we shall
seize the moment and drop his head
into his hands, even as he speaks.
This internecine brew we pour, there-
fore, into the poor to keep them drunk
enmity and incapacitation. Ah,
eternal anticipation! Bottoms up,
old chaps! We, those who rule,
shall have them always in our laps.
We are, as it were, their salvation.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by  

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 22


"Except for you, Bian, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen was Ingrid Bergman in my most favorite movie, CASABLANCA. It's about 20 minutes into the film when you first see her as she enters Rick's Cafe Americain with her freedom-fighting husband. As I recall, she was in real life in her early 20's. She, like you, is ethereally beautiful, absolutely stunning. I was mesmerized, just as I was mesmerized when I entered Tom's that fateful morning and saw you sitting alone in a booth.

"In the movie, Bogart meets Bergman in Paris just days before the German army enters the city. It is a lovely flashback when the two meet and fall in love. But for reasons not disclosed until the end of the movie, Bogart and Bergman do not get married as they had hoped to do. Bogart finds his way to Casablanca, thinking all the while that Bergman had jilted him.

"The movie was made in the early 40's. Virtually every scene is iconic. Bogart, embittered, is externally tough, but deep within, he is compassionate. There is an incredible scene in which a young wife from Bulgaria married for only eight weeks speaks with Bogart about the plight of herself and her husband seeking letters of transit to get to America via Lisbon. Bogart arranges for her husband to win at the roulette wheel, a scene at once tender and powerful.

"At the end of the movie, Bogart evinces fully his real self and forfeits his future life of love with Bergman by giving his letters of transit to Bergman's heroic husband, who, by now, we find out Bergman had been married to for a number of years.

"In the movie, Bogart personifies qualities that I would call love, and by so doing, epitomizes our common goal of this, our journey around the world to bring PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE.

"Further, Newton Minow, former chair of the Federal Communications Commission, said in a speech in 1961 that TV was a "vast wasteland." Of course, he was right.

"By contrast, Ken Burns, has made 30 documentaries to date. He has, in my opinion, put Hollywood to shame. As I had majored in American history, I was eager to watch Burns's first documentary, THE CIVIL WAR. It was brilliant. Then he made 29 more. Everyone one of them has been extraordinary. Burns deserves to receive the Medal of Honor.

"I have written a love poem about you. I'd like to share it with you now."


THERE IS A TENDER WAY TO TOUCH YOU

There is a tender way to touch you,
not more than a brush across your cheek.
I seek a gentle kiss so not to miss your soft
and red-rose lips that meet mine, the glory
of your darkened hair that falls upon my face
as I unlace your flowered blouse to place
my fingertips upon your silk-like skin to begin
to love the rest of you. I lay you down on soft,
blue sheets, your head upon pillows made of
wild willow leaves softer than robin's feathers.
I bare you beauty slowly that glows like a candle's
flame in a room that is at once so dark and bright.
The light comes from your luminous eyes that smile
at me as I reveal the rest of you from waist to knees
to heels and toes. No one knows the tender touch
I bestow upon your gentle being that I alone am seeing.

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 17

Mr. Ly opened the door slowly and greeted his beloved daughter and son-in-law warmly. He said to both, “Come in and have a seat and make yourselves comfortable.”

Of course, a hug and a handshake were sine qua non. The three chatted with one another for quite some time about the final preparations Bian, Jon, and Mr. Ly and his friends had recently completed before this monumental, two-year, worldwide journey began on 2 January 2024. Then all three relaxed.

“Mr. Ly, I have a rather unorthodox question I’d like to ask you,” said Jon.

“Please, go ahead,” said Mr. Ly.

“Do you have a favorite American author?” asked Jon.

“Interesting you should ask me that question, Jon. Indeed, I do. My favorite American author is John Steinbeck. I think I’ve read every novel he wrote. There are many American authors who have written well, but Steinbeck not only wrote well, but also, in my opinion, ‘felt first,” then wrote. In short, he imbued all his works with passion.

“My favorite Steinbeck novels are THE GRAPES OF WRATH, EAST OF EDEN, CANNERY ROW, IN DUBIOUS BATTLE and OF MICE AND MEN. Steinbeck wrote, did he not, of the human condition, which, interestingly enough, is what we three, as well as billions of other Citizens of Earth are, and soon will be, willing–indeed, determined–to “turn right-side in” Earth for the first time ever--as you, Jon, so eloquently penned in your PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE commentary. Steinbeck won the Nobel Prize for his writings. We, humanity, will win Peace on Earth forever.”

“Mr. Ly, if I may, I’d like to add a few corollaries:  Why–why in the hell–did a select group of intelligent, wealthy, socially and politically distinguished males in 1787 sign the Constitution of the United States of America, thereby legalizing the pernicious institution of slavery through the infamous “3/5ths clause” in all 13 nascent states of our nation? The list of those signatories included none other than George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and James Madison.

“Did you know that 12 sitting U. S. presidents were also, at some time in their lives, slave owners themselves:  George Washington;  Thomas Jefferson (who owned over 600 slaves);  James Monroe;  Andrew Jackson;  Martin Van Buren;  William Henry Harrison;  John Tyler;  James Polk;  Zachary Taylor;  Andrew Johnson;  and Ulysses S. Grant (to whom General Lee surrendered at Appomattox)?

“On the 4th of July of every year we Americans celebrate the birth of our nation. We gather together, family and friends alike. We have parades in virtually all towns and cities from the Atlantic to the Pacific. We fly our flags proudly. We shoot off fireworks when evening turns into night’s sky. But do we ever read the list of the 12 U. S. presidents who once owned slaves? No, because apple pie and vanilla ice cream leave a better taste in our mouths….”

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 24

"Why not help others instead of hurt them?" Jon asked Bian and her father rhetorically.



Jon continued.

"I believe in a class society. It's just that I believe there is only one class--First Class--and everyone on Earth belongs to it.

"There is a difference between personhood and behavior. Personhood is the sacredness that every human being possesses innately, inviolably. Behavior, on the other hand, is reflected by how one lives her/his life. If one is loved, especially at an early age, love, the core of personhood, will flower, allowing that person both to love her/himself and begin to love others. If one is not loved enough, if at all, that person will suffer unconsciously the pain of this grievous, emotional deprivation, and in all probability, will begin to act out socially in superficial or hurtful or even lethal ways.

"For example, those who never experience love will unconsciously compensate for the lack of it. Three major examples of this are 1) megawealth;  2) great power, not to empower others, but to oppress them;  and 3) fleeting fame. None of the three will make up for the lack of love. Lethal consequences mean deaths."

Mr. Ly spoke up.

"Jon, I found your comments cogent. Let me now give the two of you updates from my end.

"I and my friends have many, many other friends in all other countries on Earth. They are, as it were, all invisible volunteers.

"You will be pleased to know, I'm sure, we have placed through all major media outlets--newspapers and TV and radio stations--ads of the PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE commentary every two weeks. Moreover, in every nation you have already visited, the leading media outlets in them have received the commentary, as well as information related to your visits. All outlets that communicate in specific dialects receive our message in the one they read and speak. The feedback we have received has been most encouraging. Finally, we are making great progress in building our own Starlink-like social media site."

LOVE AND LOVERS

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


Chapter 13


Mr. Ly greeted them warmly. Then the three sat down.

“I understand you are a poet,” said Mr. Ly.

“That’s right,” said Jon.

“Please recite one of your poems for me, if you’d be so kind,” Mr. Ly said.

“Surely,” said Jon and reached into his satchel where he always carried some of his poems.

“I’d like to share this poem with you, Mr. Ly. It’s titled EARLY MAY

Early May.
Grass now green.
Lilacs bloom.
Red, yellow, blue
tulips supplant
winter's constant cold.
Warmer air
now through
her hair
fair and golden.
We kiss.
Robins, bluebirds
try out
their wings.
Skies take on
blue's hue.
Hope palpable
fills fields
once buried
in silver snow.
We know
wheat and barley
begin to grow.
Maple tree leaves
are being born
only weeks ago
were barren limbs.
Spring sings.


“That’s beautiful!” said Mr. Ly.

“Thank you,. Mr. Ly,” said Jon.

“You know,” said Mr. Ly, “your forthcoming trip reminds me of Homer’s IILIAD, but in a kind way, not a destructive way. You and Bian will travel the world not to plunder and ****, but to share love and the hope for peace.