Published: February 26, 2008 07:03 pm      

THE WAY I SEE IT: Standing firmly on principle

Last week, I wrote about the city of Berkeley, CA, attempting to rid that city of military recruiters, which they called "uninvited and unwelcome intruders." I made a vague reference to my own experience in Berkeley that could be the subject of another column. Oddly enough, several readers asked me to tell that story. Since the statute of limitations has undoubtedly run by now, I feel free to meet those requests.

It was August 1968, and I was cutting across the Berkeley campus on my way to a business appointment. My neatly pressed suit, white shirt, necktie, hat and spit-shined shoes clearly identified me as a young marketing executive. Obviously, I was not a participant in those "Days of Rage." As I walked through the landmark Sather Gate, taking a shortcut to my meeting, I never anticipated what was about to happen.

A short distance ahead, a small group of people gathered around a young man who was selling paper-backed Bibles for a dollar apiece. He wasn't evangelizing and he wasn't speaking loudly. Suddenly, a man who could have passed for Charles Manson almost collided with me as he ran toward the vendor. He was shouting the foulest obscenities at the top of his lungs. He was hurling the worst imaginable profanities, and his targets were the vendor, the Bible, God and Jesus. Everyone, myself included, was stunned.

Hurling people aside, he reached the vendor and snatched the Bible from the young man's hand. Still shouting curses, he pulled a lighter from his pocket and knelt on the ground, trying to burn the object of his hatred. By the time I walked up beside him, he had ignited the Bible. As the book caught fire, his curses grew louder and louder. The people standing around the shocked vendor just stared in fear and disbelief. They were obviously very frightened, and for very good reasons.

I handed the terrified young man a dollar bill and told him I wanted to buy a Bible. He started to reach into his knapsack for a new one. I pointed to the ground and said, "I'll take that one." Knowing instinctively that the deranged pyromaniac would not hesitate to set my clothing on fire, I stepped on the hand that was holding the lighter. Applying every one of my 228 pounds, nicely distributed on my six-foot-two-inch frame, to that radical activist's right hand had an immediate effect. I removed the burning Bible from his left hand, patted the fire out, and thanked the vendor. Only then did I remove my foot from his hand. No one said a word as I casually strolled away.

I continued my walk across the campus lawn, carrying the still-smoking little book. The sun shone brightly. The sky was very blue, and there was a soft and refreshing breeze off the bay. My appointment would be quite successful, resulting in a very desirable contract. Anyone who has ever sold knows the advantage of having a positive attitude. I could hear the screams for at least two blocks. As I left the campus, I stopped and looked back. I could see the man still lying on the ground. The small group of people had grown considerably. But, instead of reacting in fear, they appeared to be buying Bibles.

Robert Evans Burnette is a Crossville Chronicle columnist. His column appears on Wednesdays.