Road to Ruin

My life story nearly had an early ending when, at the age of 18, I was in Israel, traveling on my own and often visiting ancient ruins. One was of a Crusader castle, many of which were built during the centuries after the First Crusade, which had succeeded in capturing, or re-capturing Jerusalem from the Muslims in 1099 AD. During that period, much of what we now call Israel, Palestine, and Lebanon was governed by Christians, from that City, in a State then called the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem.

Anyway, there I was, in the middle of this ruin. In those days, I was somewhat adventurous. Whenever I saw anything that looked climbable, my immediate desire was to climb it. What I saw was a narrow column of rock a foot or so taller than my own height. There did appear to be a way of getting up it, so that I could stand on the top, which was a very small platform, hardly wide enough for both my feet. And that’s what I did. But what I had failed to consider was how to get down again. For a downward climber, there were no foot-or-handholds or niches. To make my situation more perilous, nobody else was around to give any kind of help (this ruin was not one of the more popular tourist venues).

Why am I telling you about this? Because it was the single most scary moment I have ever experienced. There seemed to be no alternative to jumping or falling onto the hard rock surface below – and, if not killed outright, at least being seriously injured. But it was only a moment. Don’t ask me how, but somehow, I did get safely down again, and have never since been so frightened (or perhaps quite so foolhardy).

And I have continued to enjoy visiting old ruins. Ireland seems to be full of them, including the remains of many cottages, presumably abandoned when those who had lived in them died in the famine, or emigrated – probably to America. But there are also castles. One I particularly remember is at Blarney, which for some reason gave its name to a kind of smooth flattering talk. Those who excel at such language are said to have “kissed the Blarney stone.” There is such a stone at Blarney Castle, which, for a small fee, is kissable by visitors. 

What you learn when you get there is that the Stone is actually built into the Castle’s outer wall, in such a position that, in order to be close enough to kiss it, you have to get someone to hold your legs, while the rest of you dangles over from one of the ramparts.

But England, where I came from, is equally rich in ruins. For over 350 years after an invasion by Roman emperor Claudius in AD 43, it was part of the Roman Empire. People born there were Roman citizens. Many wealthy people built themselves villas, the ruins of which are still being discovered and explored. When I lived in a northwest suburb of London, it was an easy bike ride to one of these sites, which archaeologists were still excavating. No matter how many advantages there are to living in California, we have nothing here comparable to our homeland being dappled with relics of civilized inhabitants from 2,000 years ago.

That Crusader castle where I nearly came to grief is a reminder of what I consider one of the most dramatic episodes in Western history. Actually there was a whole series of Crusades, but the first one, 1,000 years ago, before they were even called “crusades,” was the most amazing. In an era long before any such thing as mass media existed, or any land transportation aside from horses, thousands of people from all over the Christian world, including some leading notables of their time, joined in a single movement directed towards a single goal from as far away as 2,000 miles – the “liberation” of Jerusalem from non-Christian forces which themselves were the result of a powerful religious movement.

It was all started by a Pope named Urban II, who gave a rousing speech urging the re-conquest of the Holy Land. Just what makes certain lands, objects, and even people, holy is a good question. One thing is certain: nothing is, or ever has been, holy to everyone, everywhere – with the possible exception of certain types of ice cream.