FOREIGN EXCHANGE - A SYNCHRONISTIC SAGA
The voice of John F Kennedy took 40 years to journey from Washington's White House Lawn, via Switzerland and Japan, to a dinner meeting in Melbourne, but the timing was perfect.
I had experienced synchronicity in my life before, but rarely as dramatically.This synchronistic saga began when Maurice, a diplomat with the Swiss Embassy in Japan, wrote to tell me he enjoyed reading my latest book, THE LAUGH SUPPER, which included several famous characters. He casually mentioned, "I've even met one of the book's dinner guests," but provided no further details.
Although that book is a work of faction, blending two genres together, what followed after the book's release and related here, is totally non-fiction, without the slightest literary license.
I wrote back, asking him not to leave me in suspense. Had he met JFK? Or perhaps The Beatles were guests at an official Swiss reception, enabling him to meet another of the book's characters, John Lennon.
After a few months, it appeared that I wouldn't get a short-term reply. Then,when I'd forgotten about it, his dramatic response contained no letter,
simply an audio-cassette.
It was a five-minute informal address by JFK, in the second half of 1963, to a gathering of international high school exchange students. They had just completed a year in the USA and before returning home, were brought from all over the country to Washington to be addressed by the President on the White House Lawn.
Maurice had wanted to reply with the tape but had to wait for it to be sent to Japan from Switzerland, where many of his belongings were still stored.
The short recording captivated me for several reasons. I'd heard some of JFK's more famous speeches, but this was something more casual, more unusual. What also made it delightful was the jubilation of the audience of 15-year-olds. Sometimes such noise can reflect an irritating, discordant rabble.
But this was different. It was sheer exuberance of spirit.
Kennedy opened with a remark spoken not in a scolding headmasterly tone, but as a good-natured observation: "You are not the quietest group to visit the White House." The immediate response proved his point. He urged them to make a contribution back home. It was quite poignant, because here he was, not long before the assassination, expressing the hope that, "..one day, when I am old and grey, you will visit us again, perhaps even as a leader."
Coincidentally, I knew an Australian lady who possibly attended that same event. Susan had been an exchange student who had seen President Kennedy, so it must have been between 1961 and 1963. Even if this wasn't her year, I thought she'd probably be equally interested in the tape.
But we hadn't been in contact for about 15 years.Also, she lived interstate in Queensland.I was inclined to drop the
idea of contacting her and rationalized
that she probably wouldn't be at the same address anyway.
However, I had a nagging thought that I should at least attempt to give Susan the opportunity to hear the tape, if contactable. After a couple of weeks, I checked an interstate phone book and she was still listed at the address I had. I wrote and didn't hear back, so thought no more of it.
Many weeks later, Susan phoned. She had been away overseas, had only recently seen my letter, and confirmed that 1963 was the correct year. She and her husband were in Melbourne, the reason being that this very night they were having dinner with David, a former Australian High Trade Commissioner, who had also been in Washington that day as another exchange student. The 40th anniversary of the occasion was imminent, and although they had kept in touch, this was to be their first meeting in years.
"Is there any way we could get to hear it?" Susan asked. At the time, the President's remarks had a big impact on them. Both had stood near the front of the crowd, within eye contact of the speaker. Upon hearing of his death so soon after they had returned to Australia, the Washington event became even more meaningful.
They did get the tape in time for that night's dinner meeting. Both were previously unaware that a recording of the talk had ever existed. An extraordinary sequence of events enabled
them to hear it for the first time around the 40th anniversary.
Shortly after, Maurice temporarily took up a posting at the Swiss Embassy in Canberra. I met him with his wife Takeko. In the middle of telling him about the magnificent snowball he had set in motion, I stopped as a courtesy to Takeko. I wanted to check if she needed any background on what I was talking about. She was more than familiar with it. Takeko had her own vivid memories of being one of those exchange students in 1963.
* * *
FOOTNOTE TO THE SYNCHRONISTIC SAGA: THE JAPANESE CONNECTION
For years I had assumed that Maurice, having been posted in Japan longer than anywhere else outside Switzerland, must have met Takeko there. Wrong!
Then, when I learned that Takeko was on the 1963 Exchange Program and therefore present in Washington that day, I assumed that a friendship had begun there, possibly even leading him to seek a Japanese placement. Wrong again! Apparently, Maurice knew another Japanese student, Takeko's friend. He therefore met Takeko, but it was the other girl he began a correspondence with, although it only lasted a few letters.
Japan simply happened in the course of Maurice's diplomatic path - as much as anything can 'simply happen' in life.
Did he contact Takeko or her friend? Not at all. This was around 10 years later. But one day, Takeko was waiting on a Tokyo train platform, squashed among hundreds of people. For only a few seconds she caught a glimpse of Maurice stepping from a train before disappearing in the crowd; just as you'd expect in a romantic novel.
Although years had passed, Takeko was in no doubt that this was the Swiss student she had briefly met in Washington. She had the foresight to check with the Swiss Embassy in case they were aware of
Swiss nationals in the country, or on the chance that he had pursued a diplomatic career and was there in that capacity. They later married.
* * *
I had experienced synchronicity in my life before, but rarely as dramatically.This synchronistic saga began when Maurice, a diplomat with the Swiss Embassy in Japan, wrote to tell me he enjoyed reading my latest book, THE LAUGH SUPPER, which included several famous characters. He casually mentioned, "I've even met one of the book's dinner guests," but provided no further details.
Although that book is a work of faction, blending two genres together, what followed after the book's release and related here, is totally non-fiction, without the slightest literary license.
I wrote back, asking him not to leave me in suspense. Had he met JFK? Or perhaps The Beatles were guests at an official Swiss reception, enabling him to meet another of the book's characters, John Lennon.
After a few months, it appeared that I wouldn't get a short-term reply. Then,when I'd forgotten about it, his dramatic response contained no letter,
simply an audio-cassette.
It was a five-minute informal address by JFK, in the second half of 1963, to a gathering of international high school exchange students. They had just completed a year in the USA and before returning home, were brought from all over the country to Washington to be addressed by the President on the White House Lawn.
Maurice had wanted to reply with the tape but had to wait for it to be sent to Japan from Switzerland, where many of his belongings were still stored.
The short recording captivated me for several reasons. I'd heard some of JFK's more famous speeches, but this was something more casual, more unusual. What also made it delightful was the jubilation of the audience of 15-year-olds. Sometimes such noise can reflect an irritating, discordant rabble.
But this was different. It was sheer exuberance of spirit.
Kennedy opened with a remark spoken not in a scolding headmasterly tone, but as a good-natured observation: "You are not the quietest group to visit the White House." The immediate response proved his point. He urged them to make a contribution back home. It was quite poignant, because here he was, not long before the assassination, expressing the hope that, "..one day, when I am old and grey, you will visit us again, perhaps even as a leader."
Coincidentally, I knew an Australian lady who possibly attended that same event. Susan had been an exchange student who had seen President Kennedy, so it must have been between 1961 and 1963. Even if this wasn't her year, I thought she'd probably be equally interested in the tape.
But we hadn't been in contact for about 15 years.Also, she lived interstate in Queensland.I was inclined to drop the
idea of contacting her and rationalized
that she probably wouldn't be at the same address anyway.
However, I had a nagging thought that I should at least attempt to give Susan the opportunity to hear the tape, if contactable. After a couple of weeks, I checked an interstate phone book and she was still listed at the address I had. I wrote and didn't hear back, so thought no more of it.
Many weeks later, Susan phoned. She had been away overseas, had only recently seen my letter, and confirmed that 1963 was the correct year. She and her husband were in Melbourne, the reason being that this very night they were having dinner with David, a former Australian High Trade Commissioner, who had also been in Washington that day as another exchange student. The 40th anniversary of the occasion was imminent, and although they had kept in touch, this was to be their first meeting in years.
"Is there any way we could get to hear it?" Susan asked. At the time, the President's remarks had a big impact on them. Both had stood near the front of the crowd, within eye contact of the speaker. Upon hearing of his death so soon after they had returned to Australia, the Washington event became even more meaningful.
They did get the tape in time for that night's dinner meeting. Both were previously unaware that a recording of the talk had ever existed. An extraordinary sequence of events enabled
them to hear it for the first time around the 40th anniversary.
Shortly after, Maurice temporarily took up a posting at the Swiss Embassy in Canberra. I met him with his wife Takeko. In the middle of telling him about the magnificent snowball he had set in motion, I stopped as a courtesy to Takeko. I wanted to check if she needed any background on what I was talking about. She was more than familiar with it. Takeko had her own vivid memories of being one of those exchange students in 1963.
* * *
FOOTNOTE TO THE SYNCHRONISTIC SAGA: THE JAPANESE CONNECTION
For years I had assumed that Maurice, having been posted in Japan longer than anywhere else outside Switzerland, must have met Takeko there. Wrong!
Then, when I learned that Takeko was on the 1963 Exchange Program and therefore present in Washington that day, I assumed that a friendship had begun there, possibly even leading him to seek a Japanese placement. Wrong again! Apparently, Maurice knew another Japanese student, Takeko's friend. He therefore met Takeko, but it was the other girl he began a correspondence with, although it only lasted a few letters.
Japan simply happened in the course of Maurice's diplomatic path - as much as anything can 'simply happen' in life.
Did he contact Takeko or her friend? Not at all. This was around 10 years later. But one day, Takeko was waiting on a Tokyo train platform, squashed among hundreds of people. For only a few seconds she caught a glimpse of Maurice stepping from a train before disappearing in the crowd; just as you'd expect in a romantic novel.
Although years had passed, Takeko was in no doubt that this was the Swiss student she had briefly met in Washington. She had the foresight to check with the Swiss Embassy in case they were aware of
Swiss nationals in the country, or on the chance that he had pursued a diplomatic career and was there in that capacity. They later married.
* * *
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