Sunday, March 03, 2013
Chelsea at The Park
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Poway senior that day. Reported missing while jogging, it was as if her life had been stolen away. And when they found her discarded clothes, Day turned into night and night turned again into day, A sickly silence fell upon the San Diego Bay. A straggling few hung around their TV to hear some good news. A picture of a suspect even brought a hail of boos. But when the breaking news indicated a body had been found And the startled few could barely make a breathing sound. And when the dust had lifted, They saw what had occurred. Chelsea had been murdered as had Amber and there was fear of a possible third. And then from 6,000 throats rose up a joyous cheer. It bounded off the mountaintops and recoiled at the Pier. Brent and Kelly were once again here. Twelve thousand hands clapped so loud when Brent thanked the crowd for soothing his family hurt. All eyes were focused on the legislative advocate when he held up high the Finish Chelsea’s Run T-Shirt. And while responding to the cheers he lightly doffed his hat. No stranger in the crowd could doubt where Brent and Kelly sat. The first wave of runners assembled and Amber’s little sister, Allison, yelled “Go!” Emotion charged the crowd and that is all they needed to know. One runner stood his ground and refused to make the start. He kept looking up at Kelly, pointing to his heart. Close by the emaciated runner, I noticed that he lagged instead. “That ain’t my style,” were his very words. “Second wave,” the starter said. From the park filled with people, there rose a meteoric roar, Like the beating of a storm upon a stern and distant shore. “Start the race, you imposter!” Shouted someone from the stand. And it was likely he would have left the race— When Kelly raised her hand. With a smile of Christian charity, Chelsea’s vision was seen for all. She stopped the rising tumult, She bade the race go on. She signaled to the starter and he did what he had to do. But the old man still froze in his tracks And the official yelled “Wave Two!” “Fraud!” Cried the maddened thousands and the echoed answered “Fraud!” But one startled look from the grizzled runner and the audience was awed. They saw his face go stern and cold. They saw his muscles strain. And they knew the grizzled competitor wouldn’t ignore the starting gun again. The sneer is gone from the old man’s face, His teeth are clenched in hate. And as the starter readies the final group, he can hardly wait. Somewhere in this joyous land, the sun is shining bright. And somewhere bands are playing and somewhere hearts are light. Somewhere men are laughing. And somewhere children shout. But the joy in Poway is bittersweet . It is why we all came out.
Posted by Steve Tarde at 12:59 AM