Pursuing Worthy Quests

Nothing prepares you to meet one of America’s most notorious assassins, never mind in a heavily guarded maximum-security prison.

I had prepared extensively.

I read numerous articles and books about the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., a heartbreaking and tragic moment in American history. I visited the former Lorraine Hotel in Memphis. I examined primary evidence – fake passports, weapons, photos, letters -- locked away in boxes in the Memphis courthouse. I conducted extensive interviews.

As an investigative journalist, it was a familiar pattern. Dig deep. Find the most obscure evidence. Run down every lead. Ask questions, then ask new ones based on the answers. Be curious and persistent.

Through it all, I felt the eyes of history. I felt the burden of doing an important thing well. I was investigating and writing about a consequential event in American history, seeking to represent it factually and provide insight. It was a worthy quest.

James Earl Ray, the convicted killer of Martin Luther King Jr., shuffled down the hallway in a drab uniform, shadowed by stone-faced guards. Ray was an escape artist who twice broke out of prison and, for a time, eluded the longest FBI search in history.

Loud inmate banter echoed in the corridor, punctuated by clanking and slamming. I was about to be alone in a room with Ray, one of the last journalists to interview him before he died. Notoriously reluctant to do interviews, Ray’s decision to do a prison interview caught my editors and I by surprise.

Later captured in the book “Assassination” by Time-Life Books, my investigation of the King assassination was one of my most unforgettable moments as a reporter and journalist.

The seeds for this quest had been planted years earlier, studying great investigative reporters and non-fiction writers, seekers of truth chronicling war, corruption, politics and culture. Towering figures who changed our understanding of the world. Bob Woodward. Carl Bernstein. Seymour Hersh. Tim O’Brien. Tom Wolf. Hunter Thompson.

These writers and journalists opened my mind to possibility. They sparked dreams of being an intrepid reporter in search of truth, in defense of what’s right, armed with a notebook, laptop, curiosity and the ability to file copy from anywhere under deadline pressure.

My career as a journalist was my introduction to worthy quests.

Over time, I’ve come to believe that humans are quest-seeking creatures, that we are at our best pursuing bold missions that take us out of ourselves and elevate us.

A quest is not the same as an achievement, a career, completing a goal or receiving external rewards. The world’s number one golfer, Scottie Scheffler, recently captured this difference powerfully in a press conference. Scheffler said about golfing at an elite level:

“This is not a fulfilling life. It’s fulfilling from the sense of accomplishment, but it’s not fulfilling from the deepest places of your heart…I’d rather be a great father than a great golfer...This is not the most important thing in my life.”

In my experience, a worthy quest has the following qualities:

·       It resonates deeply with you. It ignites your soul.

·       It serves something larger than yourself.

·       It’s ambitious.

·       You lose yourself in it. Hours feel like minutes.

·       It includes obstacles, setbacks, reversals and challenges.

Finding a meaningful quest is a deeply personal journey. It could be becoming a great parent, as Scheffler said. It could be teaching young people. It could be creating art that inspires. It could be protecting local forests. It could be inspiring others by climbing the seven summits.

There are many quests we can take. When we step into one, it changes us.

Mountaintops

I’ve always found myself transfixed by wild, beautiful places. In them, I am alive and present in a way I am not elsewhere. Trees towering above, mountains around me, I feel a sense of awe and wonder.

If you want to occupy me for hours, deposit me in a forest.

My first place of work was in a wild place, a fishing boat operating a hundred miles offshore, a tiny vessel in vast, wild ocean. From eleven to twenty-one, I lived an adventurous mix of National Geographic documentary and Jack London novel.

Whales leapt from the water, schools of dolphin played in swells, giant hammerheads cruised ominously, flying fish skipped over glimmering seas.

This led to admiration for outdoor adventurers. Conrad Anker. Jimmy Chin. Alex Honnold. Lisa Thompson. Renan Ozturk. Hillaree Nelson. Edmund Hillary. Tenzing Norgay. Kerby Brown. Tommy Caldwell.

Climbing mountains and protecting these sacred places has become a worthy quest that has consumed a good part of the last decade. My wife and I spend most weekends in the mountains. More quests await us: Mt. Baker, Mt. Adams, Patagonia, Mt. Fuji.

Part of our quest involves helping others discover the transformative power of the outdoors. On weekends, we help cancer survivors find community and regain strength by climbing mountains through an organization called Team Survivor Northwest.

Words

Words are powerful. Words elevate and move. Words inspire. Words harm and destroy.

Words change the course of history. The Magna Carta. The Declaration of Independence. The Emancipation Proclamation. The Nineteenth Amendment. The Upanishads. The Bible. The Quran. The Tao Te Ching. Plato’s Republic. Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.

I became obsessed with words at an early age and have been on a quest to use them in a helpful way ever since. As a young man, I was engrossed by Kerouac, Steinbeck, Joyce, McCarthy, Robbins, Thompson, Kesey, Frankl.

My public library card became a portal to great lives and wisdom. I’m always happy surrounded by books, which give me a sense of things to be discovered. If you want to occupy me for hours, deposit me in a library or great bookstore.

The opening lines of Cannery Row filled me with their humor and humanity. The closing sentence of On the Road, with its sentimental and generous depiction of America, inspired me to travel. Steinbeck and Kerouac’s words have lifted, entertained and inspired millions of people.

This newsletter is part of that worthy quest, an imperfect work in progress, a belief in the power of words, a clumsy effort to use them in a way that inspires and helps others in some small way. I am grateful to all of you for being part of it.

I’ve been lucky to have a few worthy quests so far, amid the mundanities and frictions of life. Being a father and husband, seeking truth as an investigative reporter, pursuing customer experience and digital transformation, climbing beautiful mountains, mentoring young people, helping cancer survivors.

My greatest hope for each of you is that you find yours.