Posted by Menlo Macfarlane 11/10/00:

Dearest Parker...I heard that you passed on....how is it going?.. I heard that you weren't aware that you were dead.....and then a few jokes with ej pulled the real deal into play... so the dead like to joke around do they?.... And I wonder is the grandest joke of all the one about life being "a big joke"?
Have you seen my mother "standing in the shadows", Mary Frank... she caught the lift recently herself.....she's over there somewhere.... she might even be in your boat....check out the listings under "recently deceased tour guides"... she's probably chumming it up with the river boat captain…. who knows.
Thanks for the companionship in the earlier years of our friendship I would not be here today in the school with ej and our work friends in the community if it were not for you....your kindness and gentleness was encouraging and hopeful, the best really, the best, yes!
When I think back to the late 1970's and early 80s when we were working in the forests of British Columbia and the first fragrance of the school began to sting our very ordinary nostrils……. I remember talking quietly with you about taking "the plunge"and we shared our fear and our excitement of the years to come. Then later we found our way to California….
Now looking back I remember well how your work was both elegant and foolish in it's nature and how you silenced the "critical masses" in the angelic chamber with your "whit n' wisdom and soul filled psalms.".....
In your presence I often felt like I was very near a great tradition of work in itself ... that of the troubadours and the storytellers. You were one of the best. Your contributions greatly helped to guide all of us in our work together and you also helped to keep us in touch with one another. I 'll try to keep these things in mind as I work my way into a can of ashes.
You probably don't have the old body anymore. I remember when you were younger, it was a beautiful, graceful and strong body, worthy of carrying you around. I especially remember those soft doe-like eyes of yours that could turn a buck at any doorway..... I guess that they are gone now too..... My God do you remember when we use to sell those stupid candy bars door to door in Sacramento for the ..what the hell was it called….The Lands of the Bible Museum... you would go to the door and flash those big doey headlights into the living rooms and they would freeze in their tracks and then they'd pass out the cash like they were in some kind of X files trance dance baited by the presence of the Non Profit Angel of Never Ending Charity and Goodwill.
I remember you had a remarkable ability to seem utterly noble and regal while in possession of yourself and yet at the same time you often looked like one of Fagan's little brat boys from "Oliver" heading out into the town square to shuffle holiday wallets.
Oh those were memorable times weren't they? Cruising through the fog ( ie. the Face of God) in Citrus Heights with our fearless leader and map holder Robbert Trice. Bringing back the cash for the evenings Invocational Dinners at our Meadow Vista, Hole in the Wall villa.
Imagine being captured by Christian terrorists and being asked very seriously, "Now young man, answer this question as if your life depended on it, because it does, did you ever and I mean ever…ever, ever, ever sell chocolate bars door to door in a predominantly white middleclass neighborhood in Sacramento for a Christian sounding organization…now did you!, did you, did you?, You did!" "Yes sir! you reply, I did in fact sir,do just that sir, yes sir! and it was almost holy sir. It was a special time in my meager life sir"… " Excellent! My boy! ….on your way then son, you are a soldier indeed and may Our God be with you."
Remember when we first encountered the work of ej and the activities of the community.... man what did we think we were getting ourselves into.Those were strange years…. weren't they my friend.
We were dragging our sorry asses around those tree planting camps for 150 bucks a day...and Canadian no less...what's that in American money anyways….$30.00. You were known in tight circles around the heat as The Leprechaun because on the slopes you would disappear and reappear only to disappear again, then reappear and so forth. All day long you would go on and on bobbing up and down like one of those little flat metal ducks in a shooting gallery at a carnival. I watched you with amazement from my cage on the midway, chewing on my rubber chicken and taking in your magic through bulging eyeballs. Little did I know at the time that you would become a minstrel for my salvation and sing to me of the "awakened state."
And then remember one day you walked into the cook shack with your brief case full of EJ books and that Cheshire cat grin on your face…..and bingo! That was it….a nice wholesome boy from the suburbs of Toronto was on his way to becoming a "Sufi saint." "Oh boy, there is trouble down the road I thought to myself, but trouble has a friend." And you have been a great friend to all of us. A great friend for the work also.
You are dead now…..you are on your way…does the name Parker Dickson ring a bell ?…..well for 49 days perhaps, resonating in the many reading rooms around our world from people who have known you or heard of you. All those warm souls that have sung your songs and read your stories and heard of you through the memory of others.
What you have left behind is ours to take care of now, dear friend. Your songs, your stories, your delightful humor and of course your gentle wisdom…we will take care of it all from now on …. So may you rest in peace Dear Parker…that is… until your next curtain call.
Till then, Menlo

Letters to Parker and Beyond - Menlo Macfarlane 11/10/00