The Praying Prey
Professor Cathy Rodriguez
English 135 / DeVry University
The following is a true account of what I witnessed on the slope of a bluff in Carlsbad California one evening in 1972. There are some things in this world that defy an explanation in normal terms because there lacks a common frame of reference. What is perceived by our senses must pass through the matrix of our memories which form our concepts until they settle into a paradigm that can feed back the information in a usable form to the conscious registry of our minds for examination and articulation. We often come up with thoughts like; “Does that make sense?” and the attending reply of “Hell no!” or the classic, “I can’t believe what I just saw!” For some people it’s too much to handle and they blow a 50 amp fuse, others barely notice while a few see exactly what is going on, then silently file it away. Let’s open that file.
We were “Jesus People” hippie Christians, seekers rolling home to Vista from a Bible study at Captain Keno’s in Encinitas. Three Steves, an Alexis, a Bill, a Bob, a Vicky and a Nancy all stuffed inside a ’49 Chevy 2-door sedan, only because there was no back seat. The car rumbled up the coast on Hwy. 101 through a slight mist under a fairly low marine layer of about 200 ft. The moon generated a kind of glow through the cloud base and skittered on the kelp beds where the layer broke over the water. One of the guys had to pee so Steve pulled into one of the turnouts by Hole-in-the-Wall.
It was still warm out in early September so we all crunched down the ice plant to an almost level spot before the drop to the beach. Alexis wanted to pray as a group so we all held hands in an elliptical with the driver on the south end, Nancy on his left and Vicky on his right. Bob “the tree” Anderson was the north point and I faced his brother Bill with a...