A love story--tears and all

Hello, Wilson.
It's been a while. I've been distracted with life, but we still have about 70 balls yet to give away, and I wanted you to know that I haven't forgotten that obligation.

There's another batch on its way to Zambia this summer. Students at Seattle Academy of Arts and Sciences, pictured with me, above, will be taking up to 20 balls there to deliver to African kids. And if things turn out as planned, I'll be delivering another 20 in the fall. But I want to see how that pans out before I say where that will occur. I hope to surprise you.

Right now, I want to tell you about the Zambia project.

This is the third year I've spoken to Academy students about the One World Futbol, and I was wondering what I would tell them this time. I decided to give them a dose or realism. So I started out talking about the corruptibility of power with a quote most people have heard:

And then I tried pulling up famous examples of power--"The Force," for example. It's a kind of power we've all heard about, and it's everywhere, according to this guy:

And so is gravity. It comes in great and lesser concentrations, but it is everywhere. Even a pencil has a bit of gravity.

Having said that, I dove into our history -- starting with how I decided to climb Mount Adams on my 70th birthday.

Mount Adams in southwest Washington.

 And how a documentary about refugee kids playing with balls made out of rags inspired a couple guys in the music business to create a virtually indestructible ball that got the attention of news personality Katie Couric, who was amazed that her knife couldn't flatten this ball.

A ball of rags; Sting and ball creater Tim Jahnigan, and Couric, with her knife.

Tom Hanks and Wilson's namesake in Castaway.

Naming my mascot

I told them how I  decided to dedicate my training to raising funds for this ball, and that you became my mascot and traveling companion. I also explained that I gave you a name from a famous movie--a name that almost everyone recognized immediately:


I talked about taking you with me to Germany, where I searched for traces of the Third Reich, a prime example of the corruption of power. I shared the story of how I introduced you to Valentine's day and the subject of love. And I pointed out to the students that love also is a power with a special trait --it is unextinguishable.

 The Nazi's tried to smother it; the Khmer Rouge tried to crush it. And it just kept coming back. In all sorts of ways.

Hitler's Dachau and the Pol Pot's killing fields could not extinguish this thing we call love.

What is it?

What is this thing called "love?"

Who knows? I can only provide examples: Catching someone who has lost his balance on a subway is an act of love. Telling someone they forgot their credit card at a counter is an act of love. And giving someone a One World Futbol is an act of love. All these acts are as tiny in love as a pencil is tiny in gravity -- and yet it is there.

I talked about the acts of love just last summer when medical teams fanned out from Seattle to provide health services in Peru, Morocco and Vietnam and delivering One World Futbols.

A volunteer prepares to fluoride a child's teeth; futbols to Thai children living in Vietnam.

Lost!

I told them how devastated I was I had lost you while Climbing Adams--about as bad as Tom Hanks felt, when he lost Wilson at sea.

And then I told them  how strangers had found you along the trail and bore you to the top of the mountain. One donor told me that, after she learned you were found and had made it to the summit of Mount Adams, she got all teary.  Geeze! I thought only Tom Hanks had that kind of power! I got braggin' rights!

Wilson topped a summit that was beyond my reach, and the story gave one donor the sniffles.

Refugees in Rome

And I told them about University of Washington students who joined me at a refugee center in Rome, where I distributed the futbols and they cooked meals and gave the Wilson campaign a theme song: Lean on Me.

At a Rome refugee center in Rome, simple meals were a welcome act of love.

Finally, I shared with them the story of a crippled classmate I encountered at a reunion who remembered I had carried her books 25 years earlier. (I had no recollection of something so ordinary. Why would I?) And I promised them that someday, 50 years from now, long after they had forgotten all about it, there would be an African who would share the story of the young people from Seattle who brought them these marvelous balls. . . The recipients will never see the sponsors who made that gift possible, and that serves as a testament to how far the impact of a kind gesture can reach.

Is there any power that cannot corrupt?

And I left them with a simple question: Does all power corrupt? Isn't it possible that there exists at least one great, magnificent power that doesn't corrupt?

I gave the students five futbols and said if they raised money for 10, I would give them five more. I am confident that they will be taking 20 to Zambia this year.
Love,
Robert,
and Blue

At Seattle Academy, I'm with instructors Gabe Cronin (on my left) and Melinda Mueller, who slips an ice pick into Blue. When the students saw Blue hold up to the ice pick, some eyes widened. They knew they were in for a great story.