Letter to Cornell: A Cry for Peace

Que pasa, mi amigo?

Hola, Cornell:

I'm staying at the Plaza Mayor, a group of flats in the heart of Madrid. The flats are laid out in a famous, well-known and well-used square.

This square has been the happening spot for Spain for years. Everything from bull fights, to crowning of kings, to burning of so-called witches, to beheadings-- it all happened here. But today's square is different. Last night, from my balcony, I saw throngs of Spaniards, perhaps 10,000, gather to hear a classical concert performed by Israelis, Arab and Spanish musicians perform. They billed it as "A Concert Against Violence." They played with a discipline and a passion the likes of which i've never heard. I don't know much about classical music, but I heard lots of Beethoven, Mozart and Vivaldi, I think. But every symphony, every movement, was played so deeply and with such passion that it could not help but go through any one listening.

When the concert was over, the people stayed. They clapped. They chanted. They screamed. They whistled. And both men and women sobbed, wiping tears from their cheeks between claps, whistles and chants.

With the bombings in their own homeland fresh on their mind, and aware of a very violent world in the Middle East, the people Madrid literally cried for peace.

I did too.

Love you, brother. Mac