As the pace of lighting these campfires increases—and the goal of lighting the “last campfire” on May 13th approaches--I realize what a luxury it has been to meander slowly through the memories and discoveries of a lifetime.At this campfire I talk about becoming part of a Civil Rights Pilgrimage in the fall of 2014. Preparing for those nine days on the bus awakened countless memories and connected me in new ways to who I had been and what I had thought and believed in 1968 and 1969. Looking back I realized how much faith I had in March of 1968. When I turned twenty-one that first day of spring I believed that Robert Kennedy would become the President, that Martin Luther King, Jr. would live long and eloquently. The recently released Kerner Report, looking at the Detroit riots of a year earlier, offered a road map to racial reconciliation. I also believed that the Viet Nam War would soon be over. I mean, even Presidential candidate, Richard Nixon, tapped his coat pocket and talked of a secret plan for peace. Twelve months later so much had changed. I also learned during that time that my father had been in a mental institution when I was born and much of what I believed was suddenly in doubt.To be able to see that time from this place is enlightening for me both from a perspective of where I was and we were then as well as shining a different light on where we are now.Understanding what it means to be part of a larger Pilgrimage has also helped transformed my personal journey into a Pilgrimage. That realization fills me with gratitude.