While Sheila and I were in Washington to speak at the rally for Pagan religious rights, it was only logical to try to meet as many Asatruar - AFA and non-AFA alike - as possible. Among other things, we were anxious to banish the notion that the AFA is only a West Coast phenomenon. (We have almost exactly as many members on each side of the Mississippi River.)
Central to this effort were the people who made the trip possible - Rick Oberg, Chris Loscar, Patrick Opitz, Charlie Decker, and Charlie’s wife, Maribel. They provided coordination, transportation, food, guidance, and inspiration for four intense days. They are also the core of AFA activity from Washington to New England, so hours were spent sharing ideas and plans, pooling information, and getting to know each other better. This valuable work will bear rich fruit in the months and years to come.
But we also met plenty of folks who were not part of the AFA. Joe Marek heads Gladsheim Kindred, centered in Columbia, Maryland. Some of our leading AFA members in the D.C. area are good friends of Joe’s and attend his blots, and in no time we had an invitation to share Gladsheim’s fulsome hospitality. Over burgers and other typical Fourth of July fare, we talked of the Gods and our many common interests. We passed a horn in an impromptu sumbel. We were moved by tales of pain and loss, and buoyed by words of inspiration. Not everyone will adopt the AFA’s beliefs, but anytime we can dispel incorrect impressions or generally give a good account of ourselves, we do good service for the AFA. And we had a marvelous time.
Two days later, Sheila and I were at the annual summer gathering of the Chesapeake Pagan Community. This was not our usual venue, but we had been invited by one of the organizers to speak on Asatru and ancestry. The audience was very friendly and interested in what we had to say, although I don’t think anyone there could be described as “folkish.” Still, we were telling our side of things, and making friends.
We could only stay at the Chesapeake event for a couple of hours, as our plane left that evening and we had to drive all the way back to the far side of Washington to catch our flight. With hurried farewells, we made our departure and began the long journey back to the West Coast.