A New World of Hope

By Don Hanley

A history professor from the 22nd century seeks to escape his present by traveling to the 21st century to better understand what happened that set the United States of America on a very different course.

Mark Haloran is a history professor living in the 22nd century with nothing to lose. This makes him the perfect candidate to test out the new time machine his friend Sam Shafer thinks he has finally perfected. Mark travels back to the year 2019, hoping to connect with his great-great-great-great-parents, high conscious thinkers who he hopes will believe his story and help him with his hands-on research. His goal: to find out what happened following the 2016 presidential election that changed the course of humanity forever. When Mark’s plan for a short vacation to the past is unexpectedly extended, he gets to work, with the help of his family, to give the 21st century a taste of the future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Top Reads Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Dec 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781970107180

Don Hanley

Don Hanley entered the seminary to study to be a Catholic priest and was ordained in l964. He later left the priesthood to marry, and went on to earn several degrees, including a degree in Psychology. As a psychotherapist, graduate school professor, and counseling supervisor, he limited his writing to professional articles and booklets. He later wrote two novels and is currently working on third. Don has lived a very full 85 years in the western United States. He is a ‘child of the depression,’ born in Nebraska, and now lives in Southern California.

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Preface

Over the past century we have seen growth in technology through the wonderful work of creative imagineers and engineers. At the same time we have seen the deterioration of our planet and an increase in violence, hatred, and war. If we are to have hope in our planet’s future we must change the way we think and express ourselves. We must enhance our human consciousness. For the first time in history we have the technical ability to feed and shelter every person on earth—if we can learn to care and work with one another. This learning needs to start in the home and in the first grade.

I was only 84 when I retired a few years ago and I have been reflecting on my thoughts and hope for the world that I’ll be leaving in the not too distant future. In my three non-fiction books and my two previous novels, I have emphasized self-acceptance and connecting with others, but did not say enough about how we can achieve it. I have spent most of my adult life in education, as well as supervising, training, and being a psychotherapist. Now I believe the greatest need for a humane and life-giving future society is the need to create environments that nurture the natural tendency in us humans to be compassionate and loving toward one another. Love, for ourselves and others, cannot be taught like mathematics or history. Nor can it be enhanced by ordinary education or medication. Nor can its opposite—fear and hatred—be diminished or eliminated through ordinary education or medical procedures such as surgery, pills or injections. Love and compassion must be nurtured like we nurture prize-winning roses or orchids—the seeds of love have already been planted in the womb, in our very creation.

It has been said that it takes a village to raise a child. Now, especially in the so-called Developed World, villages no longer exist. Everyone is busy creating their own or their family’s life, or working to survive in a world where we are forced to go it alone. Individuality, fear, anxiety, and depression reign. Even when there were villages, children were trained to follow their elders even when they knew that the old way was not a life-giving one. The natural tendencies of children to be creative, spontaneous, autonomous, and loving are squashed by what the Swiss psychiatrist, Alice Miller, calls poisonous pedagogy. This would include treating infants and toddlers like little animals to be trained, and later putting children in rows and telling them to sit still, be quiet, and do what they are told. In other words, Be obedient to your teacher and they will tell you what to do and what to think. Alice Miller cites these as examples of the kinds of thinking that are the root of hatred and violence:

It is quite natural for the child’s soul to want to have a will of its own, and things that are not done correctly in the first two years will be difficult to rectify thereafter. One of the advantages of these early years is that then force and compulsion can be used. Over the years children forget everything that happened to them in early childhood. If their wills can be broken at this time, they will never remember afterwards that they had a will, and for this very reason the severity that is required will not have any serious consequences.

—J. Sulzer, An Essay on the Education of Children, 1748

You may think that this kind of thinking went out decades ago. An educator would not dare say anything like this now, but the often unconscious ideas are still present in the way we teach and treat children. Too often psychotherapy must help a person re-discover their lost inner child to find their true self. So closer to our own time, we have this quote:

What good fortune for those in power that people do not think!

— Adolf Hitler, l939

Now to have a truly life-giving and non-violent society, we must create a learning environment that nurtures the radical amazement at the beauty we, and all others, are born with and grow into. And we must create more enlightened and life-giving governments and other institutions. Nothing outlined in this book is impossible and I believe we can actually make it happen.

I have seen the future, and it is great!

— Laramic Haloran

Chapter

1

My God, I’m really going back to 2018! Whatever you do, Sam, don’t send me to the Dark Ages. I, Dr. Mark Haloran, professor of history, was about to put my life in the hands of a brilliant, but sometimes cold-hearted, quantum physicist.

My friend, Dr. Sam Shafer, a Ph.D. in astro-physics and quantum physics, said, Relax, Mark. That was easy for him to say. He was sitting in front of a bunch of screens while I was standing there freezing my ass off. Sam continued, Don’t worry dammit, I’ve sent several animals to various places and times and each one arrived exactly as planned. I did send a hog, just about as big as you, to one of my grandfathers in 1880, and it landed okay—I think. You are the first human I’ve sent back in time, and I’m sure you’ll be fine.

I wish you’d left out that ‘I think’ about your grandpa’s pig. I climbed on the lab table in my t-shirt and boxers and was pleased that Sam had the good sense to put a comfortable mat on the hard surface. After a two-year search, I had not found anyone courageous enough or, more probably, dumb enough to take the questionably ‘safe’ journey. So, after my wife and daughter were killed, I decided to volunteer myself. I no longer really cared about living in the year 2141.

Okay, Mark, take a deep breath. I did and I heard a soft ‘hrrrrrrrr’ which matched the ‘ooooooh’ in my gut. It seemed almost immediately I awoke and was momentarily startled to find myself stark naked and lying on a strange, but not totally strange, bed. I muttered, Where in the hell am I? It didn’t take me long to realize that I was in my own bedroom, but about a century earlier than the one I had left only a few minutes ago. I quickly recalled that I had volunteered to go on a time traveling voyage to another age. I trusted Sam Shafer to keep me safe and, at the same time, allow me to have a pioneering, scientific adventure. I chose to remain in St. Louis for my journey, rather than a different space as well as a different time. My biggest worry was that Sam would not be able to bring me back to 2141—especially if I didn’t like how I felt there—I didn’t want to be stuck in 2018.

I looked around the room and noted that it was the same as the one I left, except the wallpaper and furniture were different. I smiled, then frowned when I recalled how Lara and I had thought about our wallpaper, with dozens of geometric-patterned wood slats intertwined with flowers, representing the male-female connection. The flowers stood for the beauty of women, and the slats represented the strength of men. Or as Lara put it, the strength or wooden-headedness of men.

I had guessed that the Haloran family, who lived in this 2018 version of the house, went on vacation in mid-summer each year, but I wasn’t sure. Sam couldn’t get his time apparatus to transport anything that was not cellular, like clothing. So, I jumped off the bed and made sure the door was locked, then went to the chest of drawers, found a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt, and put them on. From magazine pictures, I guessed that Jerry Haloran, my many times great-grandfather and the current owner of the house, was about the same size as me. Then I went to the closet and found a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. The jeans were a little short, but—surprisingly—because I was about 20 years younger than the 2018 Haloran, the waist was the same as my own. I quickly put them on and found a pair of socks and black loafers.

I glanced at the bedside clock and noticed it was 12:10 p.m.— only ten minutes after I had climbed on that damn machine. Just as Sam predicted, there was very little time lapse between the time I left and when I arrived. My stomach growled to remind me that I hadn’t eaten for two days because my stomach needed to be empty for the journey. No wonder I was hungrier than I ever remembered being. I thought I would have time to find some food in my great-great-great-great-grandfather’s house.

Just then I heard a dog growl and a young woman’s angry voice call out, Who’s in there?

Wondering who that could be, I ran through all the things Sam had said about the family and all I had read in Rebecca Brady-Haloran’s books. I hoped whoever it was didn’t have a gun. I had read that the America of 2018 was a terrible, gun-toting place.

The young woman tried the door knob and shouted again, Open this damn door! And you better be friendly, or I will have Plato get after you—and I mean it. So, open the damn door right now!

I shouted back, I’m friendly, so please keep the dog on a leash, okay?

Okay, for now. I’m holding him tight.

I opened the door and the very attractive, raven-haired, young woman was holding the dog she called Plato, tightly. She also had a black iron fireplace poker held high above her head and ready to strike. Waving the poker, she yelled, What’s your name and what the hell are you doing in my parent’s bedroom?

In a shaky voice and with my eyes on the poker, I replied, I’m Mark Haloran, a long lost relative of your dad’s. The door was unlocked, so I came in and I guess I’m ... I’m like Goldie Locks. I found this bed—I motioned toward the king-sized bed—to be just right, so I took a nap.

With blazing eyes and a steady voice, she shouted, It looks like you are wearing my dad’s clothes and even his shoes. What in hell is this, ‘help yourself day?’ And don’t make any suspicious moves or I’ll bring this poker down on your head and let Plato tear your throat open. And believe me, he will.

I tried to smile and look friendly by holding my arms out in a kind of surrender.

This young female warrior with the poker still held on high showed no sign of backing down. I wondered where she got the strength to keep that damn weapon so high in the air. She was a hell of a lot stronger than she looked. Now, explain yourself. I’ve never heard Dad talk about a Mark Haloran. She added, So what are you doing here? And again, why are you wearing my dad’s clothes?

I did have a speech prepared for when I met the whole family, but couldn’t think of a plausible tale to tell this demanding young woman with the weapon and big dog. Not knowing what to say, I decided to just tell a bit of the truth. I had no way to contact the family about my plan to visit, because I live in this house—but in the year 2141. I’m Mark Haloran and your dad, Jerry, is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. You must be Julie, and that would make you my great-great-great-grandmother, or aunt, or . something, huh?

She scrutinized my face and I hoped that she thought I had a nice smile. Or, as her mom wrote in one of her books, I hoped she thought I had soft eyes. Plato had sat back on his haunches, seemingly relaxed but alert. She, too, stayed alert because I was still a stranger.

That’s the damndest tale I’ve ever heard. Do you really expect me to believe it? As if to affirm her statement, she viciously brought the poker down toward my head.

I was quick enough to grab her arm and bring the poker down, turn her around and grab her left arm, and squeeze her right hand. She dropped the poker but Plato lunged and clamped his powerful jaws on my right arm. I fell backwards pulling Julie and Plato with me. Julie landed on top of me and Plato didn’t let go of my arm. Julie’s eyes were only inches from mine and I looked at her fearfully and, at the same time, pleadingly. Her eyes met mine and I could see her anger and fear. We somehow connected in a forceful but awkward way. I could feel the blood flowing down my arm. After what seemed like an eternity, Julie commanded Plato to let go of me. Thankfully, he did.

Godamnit, I don’t want you to bleed to death—at least not right now, Julie snapped. But Plato will get you if you threaten me again. I’ll get some first aid. Just lie there and don’t move. Got it?

Yes, ma’am, I muttered, holding pressure on my open wound. I wanted to say that I didn’t attack her in the first place, but thought I just better be quiet. Damn, she is so strong and so is the damn dog, I thought to myself as I tried to assess the damage to my arm.

Julie jumped up and headed for the bathroom. She must have lost some of her fear of me because she left the poker lying on the floor. Or maybe not—Plato sat there ready to pounce if I moved.

After she rubbed alcohol, followed by what I assumed was anti-bacterial ointment, on my arm and wrapped it up with gauze and an elastic bandage, she said, I’m, uh, well, kind of sorry I menaced you with the poker. And I’m glad that you caught my arm, but, damnit, Mark—if that’s your real name—you don’t make sense. Anyway, now you know that Plato is really a brave guard dog. So, damnit, I’m safe and I’m going to keep him with me as long as I feel at all suspicious of you—which, damnit, I still am. Got it?

"Yes, I got it. And you are Julie, aren’t you? She nodded, and I asked, May I get up now?"

Yeah, but don’t go getting threatening in any way. And how do you know my name? What else do you know?

I got up and sat down on the bed, facing her. I did some research and read your mom’s two books. Her pen name is Rebecca Brady and she also writes for a magazine here in St. Louis. Your stepdad was a priest in Kansas, and you are also from Kansas. I know that you have a sister named April, and a little brother named Sean. Oh, and you are a star basketball player at Notre Dame.

You know, yer a lucky bastard, because Plato could have bitten you hard enough to break your arm, but he didn’t. He’s smarter than most humans I know and he knew that he just needed to stop you from hurting me. And you’re lucky because I wasn’t really trying to hit you with that poker, I just got tired of holding the damn thing so high and my arm just kind of fell down. You’re also lucky because you look a lot like a fellow I just saw on TV who was a half-hearted bank robber and learned to be a lawyer in prison, and is now teaching law at a major university. He had sparkling blue eyes like you—not that that makes me trust you. Plato’s leniency toward you is the best sign. Now, once again, who the hell are you? She exhaled loudly.

I don’t have any identification. The time machine can’t send any ‘thing,’ like paper or clothing—just living animals. I’m the first human to be sent anywhere by the machine.

Oh, wow, that still sounds so damn outlandish, but tell me more, at least it’s interesting. She sat down on the bedside chair. Plato was now relaxed and lying on the floor.

I’m guessing that you rely on the dog’s instincts about the safety of strangers. I began to feel more relaxed and I had figured out who she was and that helped. I held out my hand to shake and Julie hesitantly took it. Her hand was surprisingly rough for such a young and beautiful woman. Then I remembered basketball.

She said, Well, Mark, you know a little about me, but I still don’t know much about you. So what do you plan to do here in St. Louis?

I really have been doing some social research. I am a history teacher and I’m working on a project to discover what happened in people’s consciousness in the early twenty-first century. Many, maybe even a majority, began to change enough to help save the Earth and its environment, and ensure the survival of the human race. It—the Earth—was going down the tubes, when something happened to make people come alive and make things better. I wanted to study that firsthand, and so I decided to visit this part of the planet. That’s how I found out about your family and learned that both of your parents are very humane people who are dedicated to helping people. I was sure that I would need some help wherever I landed in time, so I figured it would be best if I landed in a place where the people were of high consciousness.

Julie looked more relaxed sitting in the chair, but still she wasn’t satisfied. You’re talking like you’re from another planet. How did that lead you to our house and the master bedroom and Dad’s clothes? Oh, and using our address? And one more thing. I’m sure I locked both the front and the kitchen doors before Plato and I left for our run. How did you get in here, damnit?

I took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed, only a few feet in front of her. Okay, Julie, I’ll tell you more of my real story and hope to hell you’ll believe me and keep it a secret, even from your parents, until I get a chance to meet them in person. Will you do that for me?

Julie tilted her head to the side and scrutinized me and, after a few moments, said, As long as it does not endanger me, or my family, or involve anything illegal okay? She reached down, picked up the poker, and placed it across her lap. And this better be good.

It’s good, but you’ll find it unbelievable. First, I really am related to your father. I am his great-great-great-great-grandson. And I do live in this house—but a hundred and twenty years from now. I sat back and waited for Julie to digest this.

Julie was beginning to believe me, because this time she put a hand over her mouth, gasped, and was even more perplexed as she let go of Plato’s leash. Now I’m sure you are even more full of shit than you were before. That’s what?—She counted on her fingers—One, two, three, four, five generations. That’s over a hundred years. So how in hell are you sitting there on that damn bed, when you were born in the next century? You, Mark whatever-your-last-name really is, are nuttier than a fruitcake. She shook her head as if trying to shake this nonsense out of it. So, now tell me another preposterous story.

First, I am terribly hungry. I haven’t eaten for two days because of the time travel. Do you suppose I could have a sandwich or something? Just no meat.

Two days, huh? How about having breakfast? Let’s go down to the kitchen and you can tell me another story while I fix something. Okay? We went down to the old fashioned—for me—kitchen. I’d never seen a stove with four little bonfires on it. Julie prepared toast, coffee, and cereal for me, while I continued my story.

"I know it’s unbelievable, but it’s true. I am an assistant history professor at the University of Missouri, St. Louis, and my closest friend, a fellow named Sam Shafer, is a quantum physicist. Sam has developed a time machine or better, a time process apparatus that can transport a person from one time to another and, I hope, bring them back again. He wanted to find a volunteer who would be willing to take an experimental journey to some past time to see if the process would work." Now I was even more hopeful that Sam had a way of getting me back to 2141 before the fall classes began.

Julie poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, across from me. As I talked she continued to look like she was listening to someone reading a science fiction novel to her. And you’re telling me that you are that unbelievably adventurous and/or completely stupid volunteer?

I straightened my back and rolled my shoulders, then said, Yes, I’m the adventurous and stupid volunteer.

You don’t look stupid, so why would you do such a thing?

I guess I just needed to get away.

Why in God’s green earth would you need to go this far away? You could go to France, or the Rocky Mountains, or a thousand places. Why risk your life, for God’s sake? That is, if your story is true and I’m beginning to believe it is—at least partially. You don’t seem to be a very good liar. So, Mark, the space-time explorer, why are you really wearing my dad’s clothes?

As I said before, Sam’s process can transport only cellular beings. It can’t send plain matter, like clothes. So I arrived naked.

Julie giggled, So you arrived naked as a jaybird lying on my parent’s bed? Can you prove it—like right now? Have your friend Sam send us a house plant or something. Julie crossed her arms and raised her chin and looked challengingly at me.

I was hoping to wait until I was more settled but maybe it is a good time to have my dog join me. I looked at Plato and remembered how brave, loyal, and intelligent he had been described as in Rebecca’s books. I looked back at Julie. What do you think? She’s friendly and a very smart Border Collie. I’m sure she and Plato will get along. I looked at my watch and it was still only 3:30 p.m. and I would have to wait until 6:00 p.m. before Sam could send Lizzie, my dog. We had guessed that it would take me a while to meet someone whom I could convince I was from another time, and then I could signal him to send my dog.

Julie waited patiently for a few minutes and then said, rather sarcastically, I’m going to call your bluff. Go on, do it. Call your doggie.

Chapter

2

Sam and I guessed it would take about five hours for me to need the dog to help me convince someone that I was really from another time, so he’s going to send Lizzie, my dog, at 6:00 p.m. Do you know someone who could join us who would be a credible witness to Lizzie’s arrival? Maybe two or three somebodies? Otherwise, you’ll be the only witness to my dog miraculously appearing in your house and able to give my story some credibility.

My folks are about six hours away, at the Lake of the Ozarks, so let me think. Julie put a finger on her chin and gazed at the ceiling as if looking for names up there. Finally, she said, Dan and Agnes McGuire live next door. They’d be good. Then there’s Jack Carroll and his wife, J.J.; they’d be good. Dan, Jack, and J.J. all work with my dad in the prison reform program.

"Jack and J.J. got married at the end of your mom’s book, uh, Wrestling With God. Right?"

Hey, you’ve got a good memory.

That’s almost a requirement for a history professor. Do you think they’d come here this afternoon?

I’ll call them right now.

While Julie was making her calls, I tried to contact Sam in 2141. Sam had implanted a small radio-like device in my shoulder and we had devised a very basic kind of Morse code exchange so we could communicate a little. I pushed twice on the spot it was supposed to be in and I received a minute electric shock back. I pushed twice and followed it up with three more. The three pushes were to confirm that I was ready for Lizzie at the designated time.

Julie had run upstairs to retrieve her cell phone to make the calls. She left Plato with me and I sat down on the floor and petted him.

Ten minutes later Julie came back down and opened the front door to welcome Dan and Agnes. I shook hands with the very pleasant couple who looked to be in their fifties, and I told them my name and occupation as a history professor.

Jack and J.J. will be here shortly. They asked if they could bring J.J.’s kids and I said sure. Is that okay? Julie asked.

I turned to Julie and asked, How old are J.J.’s kids? Julie said eight and ten, she thought. That should be fine. If they were babies, they might be too much distraction for the dog and her sudden appearance might be too much for them. We’ll need to go back upstairs because the dog will be sent to the same place where I arrived.

Then I said to Dan and Agnes as we walked upstairs, I’m from out of town and I’ll tell you a bit of my story after Jack and J.J. get here.

Upstairs I talked with Dan about his tenure at the prison and asked them both about their daughters and how they were doing in Chicago. Their stories were as interesting and complex as mine. About twenty minutes later, Julie came back up the stairs with Jack, J.J. and the kids. The introductions continued. I told the six of them the same story I had told Julie and they had the same questions. The kids, Halle and Shag, thought I was wonderful and rather like a character out of a Marvel Comic.

We continued the discussion until 6:00 p.m. and I said, I told Julie that I needed to demonstrate how I arrived in 2018 in some way, and the only way I could think to do it was to have my friend Sam send my dog Lizzie to me here in your time. But I didn’t want Julie to be the only witness, so she suggested you all. Sam and I estimated that it would take about five hours to find someone I could trust enough to call for my dog. I knew I was repeating myself a lot, but I couldn’t help it. What if they didn’t believe me? I wanted to be as transparent as possible.

I sat down on the bed and put a finger to my lips. Plato stood up and stared at the empty space next to me just as a beautiful brown, black, and golden Border Collie took shape beside me. Plato growled as Lizzie took shape on the bed and within seconds she jumped into my arms and began to lick my face.

Julie put both hands over her eyes, then took them away and muttered, Oooh, myyy, gaaawd.

Plato just stood there as if glued to the floor and tilted his head one way and then the other. It took several more seconds for the small Collie to believe my face was clean enough. She turned to look at Plato. Julie would swear that she grinned at him coquettishly and wagged her tail. Plato unfroze himself, put his front paws on the bed, and began to smell the new arrival—starting with her behind. Julie chuckled and said, I’m glad humans don’t greet each other that way.

I just sat there and smiled as if I had just shown a small crowd my newborn baby. Julie stayed on the floor and shook her head and mumbled, I’m Alice in Wonderland and I just fell in a rabbit hole. She took a deep breath and asked, I think you mentioned it, but I’ve forgotten, what’s her name?

Queen Elizabeth the Third. I smiled.

Aw, come on. I can’t imagine you standing at your back door and hollering, ‘Here, Queen Elizabeth the Third! Here, Queen Elizabeth the Third!’ So what do you call her? Everyone was laughing.

I call her Lizzie.

Everyone bent over to give Lizzie a pat on her head, but the little dog was totally into getting acquainted with Plato. Halle, J.J.’s nine-year-old daughter, asked, How did she get here? I mean, I was standing over there and Mark sat down on the bed and then—The girl snapped her fingers—all of a sudden there she was. How’d she do that—just suddenly get here?

Everyone looked at me. "Well, Halle, I really don’t know, but she came here the same way I did. Have you ever watched Star Trek? Halle nodded. Well, you’ve seen the astronauts say, ‘Beam me up, Scotty.’ Halle nodded again. Well, I have a friend in the year 2141 who beamed me back to your time and place in 2018. Then we arranged to have him do the same with Lizzie. And just as I don’t know how they do it in Star Trek, I don’t know how my friend Sam does it now. When you take physics in high school maybe you can find out how he does it."

Jack said, Well, Mark, that’s as good an explanation as any, I guess. I learned a long time ago that there’s a lot we don’t know about our universe and time and space and, well, just about everything. So thank you, Julie, for thinking of us when you needed a witness. All I can say is, WOW!

Everyone else shouted WOW! and clapped.

Chapter

3

Dan said, We were just about ready to go out for dinner. What about you guys?

J.J. said, We were about to order pizza. I have an idea, why don’t we order a bunch of pizzas and have Mark tell us more about his time travels and life a hundred years from now. Do they still have pizzas in your century?

Very much so, and pizza delivery is still common. Thank you for the suggestion, but I couldn’t bring any money with me—it wouldn’t be any good here in your time zone anyway. So I can’t help pay for it, at least not yet.

Julie said, I’ll pay for it—I’m the hostess, right? Both couples objected and said they would divvy up the cost between them. We all went downstairs. Julie asked what kind of pizza we wanted and called it in.

Okay, now tell us about 2141 and your life there and how the world has changed and, well, about everything, Mark, J.J. said.

I told my new audience everything I had told Julie about Sam Shafer and his time machine and why I had chosen the Haloran family to visit. Agnes said, Mark, you really live in this very house a hundred and twenty years from now? That’s amazing. You know, we live next door. She pointed west. Now who lives there? Or is the house still there?

I went to the front door and was nearly bowled over by how fowl the air seemed to be and how much traffic there was on the street. When I looked west I saw a two-story, well maintained, white clapboard house. It looks like the same house I remember from 2141 but I can’t tell for sure. Before I go back, I’ll paint a big X on a wall in a closet or someplace and then when I get back to 2141, I’ll let you know. They all laughed.

We all sat back down in the living room. That’s the first time I’ve looked outside and I’m amazed at how, uh, stinky the air is and how many cars there are on the street. I looked around at all the questioning faces and added, Our air is much cleaner because everything is powered by electricity and all electricity is generated by solar energy and, in some places, hydroelectric plants. Cars are all electric and very few people have them because there are electric trolleys running all over the place—and they are cheaper than owning your own car. This street in front of my house looks more like a park than a street—it has a walking, skating, and biking path down the middle and hundreds of trees, bushes, and flowers all around. I have to admit, I like it better than what I saw.

Who takes care of all these plants? asked Agnes.

The City of St. Louis Youth Job Corps. It gives priority to young people of the neighborhood and if there are not enough of them, they bring in young people from other areas. We have a lot of older folks in our neighborhood, so most of our ‘gardeners’ are from elsewhere. Many of the landscape supervisors are paid, semi-retired seniors.

Just then, the pizzas arrived and Julie made sure we all had our share with sodas and salad to go with it. We ate quietly for a little while.

Then Julie said, Mark, tell us about the changes in our government—we sure need some hope after what we’ve had the past two years.

Okay, but first I would like to tell you about a change in consciousness among everyone, young and old, in the U.S. and much of the world. As a historian, I believe the biggest revolution in history started in the twentieth century—after the Industrial Revolution. Industry helped us develop a middle class economically and this, in turn, helped us to educate ourselves and our children. Democracies began to replace kingdoms, and people—nearly all people—in developing countries began to get involved in government, education, and labor unions. Being involved, rather than being dictated to, became the norm in much of the world. This was a real change in consciousness.

Dan asked, Who would you say were some of the thought leaders in this revolution?

I put my hand to my chin, Five would bridge the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; Karl Marx, Thomas Jefferson, Leo Tolstoy, Charles Darwin, and Albert Einstein were all very instrumental in changing our thinking or consciousness. There are many others, of course, who helped us realize that the so-called absolute truths that we all should learn were not so absolute anymore. Anyone remember the saying ‘divine right of kings’? Nearly everyone raised a hand.

J.J. added, And white males! We males all chuckled self-consciously.

I went on, That was really believed by the vast majority of people throughout the world. And it kept the peasants and slaves in line. The American and French revolutions were historical landmarks that helped change this. It is still believed in this century, and in mine, in many places around our little planet. The women’s movement is a giant step forward for the good of all. Everyone clapped for this.

So tell us more about the changes that you think are steps forward, encouraged Jack Carroll.

Carroll is an Irish name, right? Jack nodded. Well, here’s a change for you, Jack. The Archbishop of Dublin is a married woman. Jack waved me away. "There was a nice picture in the New York Times