Eternal values

The past few weeks have highlighted how troubling these times are. For the first time in more than half a century, talk of our being embroiled in war seems so real, and so close to home. All this makes one turn inwards, to look for meaning, and find what values are most real, and most enduring.

During times like these, I always look for inspiration in history. The Olympic Games have always been a striking source of inspiration for me, and have managed to carry me through many confusing times. In the most challenging times I have faced, the documented feats of superhumans being fully human have always salved my soul.

There are three particular stories that hold special meaning for me, all of which, appropriately enough, revolved around the first two world wars and several revolutions. I’d like to share them with you.

In 1924, Bill Havens was a member of the prestigious United States Rowing Team about to be sent to the Paris Olympics. One of the country’s great canoeing prospects, he was slated to compete in the single and four-man canoeing events, and was a favorite to stand on the victory podium.

However, a few months before the Olympics, Havens discovered that his wife would give birth in late July, at the same time the Olympics were going to be held. Counting the two-week boat ride to and from Paris, Havens would be gone a total of six weeks, and would likely miss the birth of his son. Despite reassurances from his wife, family, friends and even their doctor, Havens surrendered his spot on the Olympic squad that was on its way to Olympic immortality. He chose to stay by his wife’s side. Painfully, his son, Frank, was born four days after the Olympics ended.

Although wholehearted, Bill Havens’ decision would haunt him. He would spend the next three decades wondering if he had made the right choice.

The answer would come to him in the summer of 1952, in the form of a telegram from Finland, site of the Olympic Games.

"Dear Dad, Thanks for waiting around for me to get born in 1924. I’m coming home with the gold medal you should have won. Your loving son, Frank." Frank Havens had just won the gold in the 10,000-meter singles canoeing event.

In 1956, as the Hungarian national team was heading towards the Melbourne Games, the Soviet Union sent troops into their country, turning the Hungarian revolt bloody. This set the stage for 17-year old boy to change the course of Olympic history. And he wasn’t even an athlete.

A few days after the opening ceremonies, Sir Wilfred Kent Hughes, head of the Melbourne Olympic Organizing Committee, received a handwritten letter. In the midst of everything going on, he amazingly had time to read it.

The writer introduced himself as John Ian Wing, an Australian of Chinese parentage. He wrote. "I believe it has been suggested that a march be put on during the closing ceremonies and you said it couldn’t be done. I think it can be done… the march I have in mind is different than the one during the Opening Ceremony... During the march there will be only one nation… what more could anybody want if the whole world could be made as one nation…"

And so it was done. Athletes from every nation marched as one. No flags, no enemies, showing the world how one inspired young man could give the finale of the grandest show of human spirit a magnificent new beginning.

The third story dates back to August 5, 1936, in Berlin. At past nine in the evening, there were only three pole vaulters left in the darkened, chilly Olympic stadium: Earl Meadows of the United States, and close friends Shuhei Nishida and Sueo Oe from Japan.

On his second try, Meadows cleared the Olympic record height of 14 feet 3 1/4 inches. His opponents did not. They ran over to congratulate the American, then jumped for the silver medal. Unfortunately, darkness overcame the poorly-lit venue, and the competition was halted with both men tied.

Inexplicably, officials arbitrarily gave the silver medal to Nishida, his second in a row. Oe received the bronze. Neither man was happy.

When they returned to Japan, the teammates decided to cut their medals in half and fuse one half of each, so that each of them would possess a medal that was half silver, half bronze. They became famous for what was called The Medals of Eternal Friendship.

Sadly, this was their last memory together, because World War II broke out shortly thereafter. Oe was killed here in the Philippines at the start of the Japanese campaign. But his memory lives on; his unique medal is forever on display at the National Stadium in Tokyo.

These real stories brought tears to my eyes, and hit me in the heart. When we really allow our humanity to surface, these are the values that mean most to us: family, friendship, unity. Not war.