The mood of the room and the field, belied my emotions this morning. Surrounded by NBA players present and future, as well as Olympic hopefuls, the banter was jovial. Players like Frank the Tank of Wisconsin, Oregon's Joseph Young, and Arizona phenom Stanley Johnson, all waiting for yoga class to begin, were easily zinging putdowns, jokes and friendly talk to anyone and everyone. Hours later, on the field of Pershing Park, a place where the mighty Babe Ruth once hit a home run, an exciting baseball playoff game was being played. The home team, the Santa Barbara City College Vaqueros were joyfully playing out an eventual 5-0 win over the Rio Hondo College Roadrunners.
it was great to be a fly on the wall of both atmospheres. Because it helped me to momentarily forget what I experienced the previous two days. Spending both days looking for a young man that would later be found death, was as traumatic an experience as I want to experience for now, was a grueling grind.
t was a frustrating few days prior, especially for his family. Yet there was still hope that Cody could be found alive. We all felt that way. Watching the helicopter fly above me on a trail between East Camino Cielo and Paradise Road on Thursday, I had a belief that somehow there was a chance...albeit slight. When hearing of the news it was like a punch in the gut, and then utter sadness for the family I have never met. Tonight, after it all been cleared away, I went to the spot trying to fathom why a young life full of promise was suddenly over. The only solace I had was to accept the impermanence of all things. And then eventually I smile, remembering the other occurrences of the previous two days.
