I have two numbers in my iPhone. “Peter1” and “Peter2.” Peter Yarrow told me if I couldn’t reach him with the first number, to try the second.
No, I’m not in the music business. And no, I wasn’t a leader in the peace movement. There is nothing special about me.
All I did was write him a letter a few years ago after I heard him sing on the radio, along with Paul and Mary: “Have you been to jail for justice? I’d like to shake your hand.”
I told him no, I’ve never been to jail for justice. Even when others were crossing the police line at the San Jose Hyatt where Henry Kissinger was speaking at a dentists’ convention, I was too afraid I’d lose my teaching job. But now that I was retired, maybe there was still some time left to get in some “good trouble.” And then maybe we could shake hands?
I told him we actually did shake hands once before, after a concert in 1970 at the Civic Auditorium when he gleefully broke federal law by defacing my draft card with his autograph. But I’d really like the honor to shake his hand again.
I also thanked him for how his music helped me make the difficult decision at age 18 to check the box on the last page of my draft registration papers that I could not in good conscience kill another human being. My decision was also difficult for my parents, who grew up in time when there was such a thing as a good war.
I didn’t expect a response to my letter, but I got one. He addressed me as “Brother Robert” and told me to call him anytime.
But he already had given me a lot more time and attention than I deserved, and the last thing I wanted to do was take advantage of his generous spirt.
I felt like I should be doing him a favor, not the other way around.
So I never called. And now I can’t even if I wanted to.
But I’m holding onto the numbers, and the memory, and the inspiration, and the desire to shake your hand if you’ve ever been to jail for justice — or even if you just gave it some serious thought.
Robert Wright, 74, is a retired English teacher who taught at Morrill Middle School in San Jose.
