In this chapter, two friends who had not seen each other in years joined a wildlife rescue team to determine security of bald eagle fledglings in a vast natural recreation area. After the work was complete they went camping as a reward. What happened that evening in the rugged wilderness taught as much about nature, as it did about strength, precision and determination, in a man named Peter Churchfield. Who made a fortune while all those around him were losing theirs. Continuing the conversation from last time…
Crisp, cool air captured the mist rising from the waterfalls that poured off the Pocono Plateau into the pools below. Millions of years of seismic uplift and glacial activity had formed an S-shaped pass through the mountains called the Delaware Water Gap. It was here where Peter had found a place to retreat and enjoy leisure time. Nestled within a ravine, we’d set up a camp surrounded by hemlocks and rhododendrons past their blooming stage, in late July. Peter’s deluxe trailer (equipped with top-notch gear) was quite a contrast to the camp we’d just spent three nights at—we’d gone from one-star to five-star accommodations in a distance of twelve miles.
After three days of monitoring the environment of bald eagles with a rough-and-tumble group and sleeping on the ground, I was ready for a rest. In fact, I was feeling under the weather, still fighting the aftermath of search-and-save fatigue. While Peter gathered tinder to build the evening’s campfire, I sat on a rock and used my rolled-up sleeping bag as a cushion. “You have the energy I wish I had. Thanks for setting up camp,” I said as I looked at my cell phone to see it was 3:30 p.m., a perfect time for a nap.
“No problem, buddy. When I bring Wendy and Kimberly up here, they sit around and watch me work too!”
“What are they doing this weekend?”
“Kristopher is coming in tomorrow for a short visit. You know, he drives up by himself once a year to spend a few days with his sister. It gives Wendy a break—Kimberly’s cerebral palsy doesn’t ever improve. Now that I’m retired, I’ll get to spend time with him too. We’ll send Wendy out for a few days at the spa. So the timing of this trip with you worked out well for me.”
While he worked, he talked about the place we were in that he had come to love. The Gap, as he called it, reminded him of his childhood, when he’d play on the shore of Lake Erie. In both places, he told me that he could take a deep breath, focus, and consider things according to how he felt about them, not how society thought he should feel.
“We were both fortunate to grow up near natural places where we could escape,” I said. “For me it was the surrounding bays, inlets, and miles of beach break on soft white sand. I missed it terribly when I moved west.”
Continued here next time.
Read the complete story in the book, The Quiet Rich: Ordinary People Reawakening an American Dream.
Kevin J. Palmer, Author
