Craig's Fire

Readers of this post should first catch up by reading the first part.
After hanging with Ken (the Fisherman) for a day or two, he pulled us aside for a personal chat and said “you folks don’t belong here (in town). I have some people I’d like you to meet”. Heck, we figured anyone who was alright with Ken was fine by us, so we answered in the affirmative.
He took us on a long walk up the coast road……for those who know Negril, this is past the caves and cliffs where the road gets lost in the bush. At some point we turned into the bush, and walked down a rugged path into the hills. The path was largely over volcanic rock, and I remember thinking that no motor vehicle…not even a motorcycle….could have made it over these hills and rocks.
After some additional trekking, we came upon a small clearing in the woods…perhaps 100 feet square….with some downed logs laid out in a semi-circle. Sitting on these logs were some of the strangest looking people we had ever met…you must remember that in 1970 Rastafarians were not yet part of popular culture…this was well before the Reggae revolution hit America!
The strange dudes (they were all male) looked at Martha and I with their glassy and wild looking eyes…so wild, in fact, that I remember having thoughts as to whether this was going to be one of my last moments on the planet! After all, we were way back in the woods and, if these folks had violent intentions, we would simply never be heard from or found again!

Imagine meeting this dude deep in the woods!

Luckily, what unfolded in the next few moments and for the remainder of our trip was anything but violent. The crazy looking dude on my right turned to me and said “peace, mon – brotherhood…..love, man. We are all one”.
WOW……this was really far-out for a upper class white guy from Lower Merion! Here were these wild-ass dudes saying words to me that no one had ever said before! Moreover, they were dead serious! They meant it!
They were smoking grass in a water pipe – but would only smoke it after they said a prayer to Haile Selassie – King of Ethiopia and patron saint of Rastafarians. Perhaps we had stumbled into a “reasoning” described in the Rasta article at Wikipedia as:
“A reasoning is a simple event where the Rastas gather, smoke cannabis (“ganja”), and discuss ethical, social, and religious issues. The person honored by being allowed to light the herb says a short prayer beforehand, and the ganja is passed in a clockwise fashion except in time of war when it is passed counterclockwise.”
Whatever it was, it felt real and honest and spiritual. In the coming hours, days and weeks we learned a lot about these fine people and their world views, some of which I will impart in later segments of this story.