In Memory of Richard Roundtree

The soul sized him up and down; it was a direct gaze, steady and unflinching. "Hey, Brother," it said at last, and extended its hand. Peter took it readily, relieved. "Welcome," he said, and did what he did - made a big production of opening the gates. "Nah, man," the soul said (stepping back, waving it off). "If it's all the same, I'll take the side streets - feel the energy, get the layout of the place, hear directly from the people; know what I'm sayin'?" Peter nodded, a little embarrassed, and hit the button to release the side gate. "Thanks," the soul said. "Some of us gotta walk the winding path to feel we've claimed it is all. It may be a hard one, taking some concentration, but it's not a lonely one." And the soul walked in, clapped on the back by some, embraced by others, glad and cautious and letting things be what they are (as above, so below).