The sky that November was bright, at night... I didn't live too far from where they were erected this big building; Had to get it done, quick; Maharishi had said it needed to house up to 7,000 people meditating together... The Zimmerman'$ had put up the money for the thing.... And, then those bright lights, at night... Lit up the sky, outside my window, that whole month, of November of '83. My wife was also used to gaze out the window, in the bedroom, amazed at the site, bright at night. Those bright nights, a prelude to what was to come, to climax, but it was all so subtle... We never realized how subtle the whole thing was... How this little man from India, had got us all tripping to his song. We were saving the world, somewhere inside we thought that. Maharishi had said it was necessary to gather together, and so we did. For that one moment in that crazy time, he created that strange dreamlike setting. The building stood almost vacant, for many years later... Weeds grew, and the Master passed away. Since then, the time has gone and went and we still search, for meaning, in the meaningless. In all those years ago, but not far away. R.G.
