Personal Stories

Vigil for Stephen Wayne Anderson, San Quentin (Kate, Jan. 2002)

As soon as I heard about this vigil, I knew I had to be there. It was ridiculous timewise, but I kept on accepting the guidance. Claudia, Jan, Malcolm, and I drove together to San Quentin. We were prepared as if for a Himalayan trek and looked padded, marvelous and comical. There were many other chubby-looking elves there, seemed like at least 500. All in a very special space; gracious to other humans if jostled but appearing inwardly focused. The moon was glittering brightly directly overhead with huge illuminated cumulus cloud banks all around us. And it was very, very cold.

Right away, I felt myself panic. Even though I had spent a small fortune copying all the appropriate songs on sheets to pass out, the numbers of folks, the darkness and dense nature of the bodies in the crowd, the dreaded microphone and the sadness of the moment all served to make my inner voices chat about "going home, too cold, never mind, lots of other people want to talk..."Claudia was the most stalwart, just kept loving and supporting me. As soon as I checked in with the stage manager, I went right on the stage.

When I said the Threshold Choir sang at the bedsides of people who are dying, and would they join me in singing the Prayer of St. Francis, I started to relax, realizing I was, in fact, in the right place, doing what I needed and wanted to be doing. And I could tell the crowd was grateful to be invited to sing. They sounded very soft and sweet. "May I be an instrument of peace." Over and over.

And it was terribly sad. San Quentin seems like such a dumpy yet complex place, paint peeling, funky buildings on fancy real estate. It was sad that we have contributed to a society where so many people end up in a place like that. And more, that a man of awareness and sensitivity and poetry like Stephen Wayne Anderson should have to live for so long knowing how and when his life would end.

As always, I was grateful for the extra prayers and songs I could feel swirling around us in the minutes around 12:30.