Mother Jones In the Gloaming: by Jack Xamis Such are the mind games you indulge after driving 5,000 miles in eight days. I was about to go for 73 when a sign flashed by: Mother Jones Memorial Obviously my mind was a million miles from meaningfulness but I hit the brakes (thus turning off the cruise control) and took the next exit in the Illinois twilight. Turned out to be the exit for a townlet called Mt. Olive. O.K. No need to go into THAT here. I followed a couple of signs through the town center and back out again, to find myself at a surprisingly large, unfenced cemetery surrounded by newly sprouting spring crops that I had no idea what they were. Actually, it was two cemeteries, one Lutheran, the other called "Union Miners Cemetery." I parked by the road and walked in, through rows of modest stones toward a larger memorial, a fifteen-foot column on an elevated plinth. Mother Jones. There she lies, mostly forgotten (though not entirely), in the Illinois prairie miles from the power centers where, still in splendor, dwell those despoilers and exploiters from whom she wanted nothing more than fairness. I stayed awhile, read inscriptions, sat, thought, took pictures. When I got up to leave, I realized I'd been revived. Before stopping I'd already been looking for a place to spend the night. Having driven for 13 hours I was ready to sleep. But the encounter with Mother Jones's grave, the simple, clear reminder that some people really do try to make the world a better place fed my heart, my head, my hope, and with that my body. Energized, and thinking about things more important than cruise controls, I drove for quite a while longer into the American night. Here are the pictures I took >>.
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