Grand Canyon: Common Ground in a Beautiful Place

In the parking lot near the Grand Canyon Visitor Center was a large group of Americans of South Asian descent, separated from us by a half dozen empty parking spaces. Five or six of them came over and the biggest guy asked, bluntly, “What is this for?”

Jon, in an explanation he’d already given a few dozen times but continued to do so with sincerity and humility, explained the connection of the I-beam cross found in the Trade Center rubble and this one. Then he invited them to write notes and put them into the heart of the cross.

For the first time, we saw people balk at the idea.

“You mean, like a prayer?” one of them asked.

“Could be,” Jon answered. “Or just a quick message, whatever you want.”

“But we’re not Christian.”

The idea, the question, had never come up until this moment. I wondered if Jon had considered the thought. I know I hadn’t.

“It’s all right,” Jon said. “To me this cross is a symbol for all people, all races, all backgrounds and religions.”

“How does this represent all religions?” asked a young man named Malind.

“Different parts come together to make this piece,” Jon explained. “On 9-11 all these firemen, and other people too, were all running around trying to help people. It didn’t matter who was what color or race or religion, it was just people sacrificing themselves to help others. It was people coming together. And I guess that’s what this piece means to me.”

I’m not sure if they were wholly convinced, but Malind and his friends quietly wrote notes and put them in the cross. I couldn’t hear what they were saying when they were back with their group. I only saw Malind and the others gesturing and pointing at the cross as they spoke.