The Peripheral Sur

by Bart Key

  Then Sur popped another surprise on us announcing one evening that he had recently signed up for a two week combat skills refresher course in Florida taught by some former Green Berets and invited us to join him. Though we had no idea why he would want to do such a crazy thing, Cory instantly said he would go which didn’t surprise me as he dug that kind of shit. I agreed to go too but was not at all excited about it and wondered just what the hell was Sur thinking. Jeremy had that look on his face which evidenced that he thought all three of us must be insane. But again he didn’t want to be the only holdout. So the four of us headed for Florida. No longer being spring chickens, the course was a bitch but we all managed to struggle through it for the requisite two weeks. Cory thought it was not all that much different from his basic training in the army. Relieved and exhausted, we returned to the Bar 7 and Sur finally told us what was going on.

  Recently, he had become aware of an incident in central Africa where about a dozen younger boys had been kidnapped from their village by a small gang of guerillas and were now being held as slaves. The boys’ parents had pleaded with the authorities for help but to no avail. Sur somehow learned the approximate location where the boys were being held and was determined to attempt a rescue effort. The three of us thought he must have a screw loose but he was deadly serious. He intended to undertake the rescue mission himself if it came to that but hoped we might join him. He made no bones about the dangers involved and would not hold it against any of us who elected not to participate. Deep down the three of us knew we would go along as the thought of Sur going into a dangerous situation without us along was not an option. That didn’t mean for a minute we supported his crazy mission.

  About ten days later we arrived in Africa and chartered a small twin engine turbo prop. After flying for a couple of hours, we landed on a very rough gravel runway deep in the continent bringing along with us the supplies and weapons we would need. Unsurprisingly, there were no customs and immigration authorities anywhere in sight when we landed. Instead, two men got out of an old dilapidated truck and walked up to meet us. One spoke very broken English and introduced himself as the father of one of the captured boys. The other, who was the driver, was his brother. After getting everything loaded, the four of us climbed into the back of the truck and we drove for maybe a couple of hours along dusty dirt roads before arriving at the father’s village. After spending the night there, we left early the next morning and drove until the road terminated which was thought to be about three miles from our destination. The father and the four of us left his brother behind and set out on foot. Our hope was that once we got close, the father could identify his son and the other boys. The four of us locked and loaded as the five of us began our cross-country slog.

  I thought my days of humping through heavy brush and jungle were behind me forever when I left Vietnam. How wrong I was. For several hours we followed Sur’s lead as he seemed to know instinctively where we were going. All of us were sweating profusely and breathing heavily. I could tell that Cory was in his alert mode which I remembered well from our missions together in Vietnam. Jeremy had a look of total disbelief on his face.

  Finally, Sur motioned for us to slow down and we very gradually crept up to the top of a small hill and peered over. Below us was the suspected guerilla camp. Using Sur’s powerful binoculars, the father was able to positively identify several of the boys including his son. Leaving him behind, the four of us quietly snuck closer. Unfortunately, we were spotted by one of the guerillas who shouted out our presence. That was the last sound he ever uttered as I shot him dead on the spot as we began our descent into the camp. All hell broke loose as the other guerillas began firing their weapons wildly in all directions. We managed to bring down three more of them but two escaped into the brush. Sur turned to Jeremy and told him to stay with the boys and protect them while the three of us ran after the two escapees. We returned about thirty minutes later, leaving behind their dead bodies. Several hours later all of us arrived back at the village. There was joy and crying as the boys reunited with their families. We couldn’t stay long and by nightfall were back at the airstrip where our plane was waiting. Once airborne, cold beers were passed around and no one spoke for a long time.

  I felt so sorry for Jeremy as he looked positively shell-shocked. I knew how much he hated violence and just wanted everyone to get along. To his credit though, when we charged the guerilla camp, he showed no fear and, during those first few minutes, he had shot and killed one of the guerillas. No doubt that had been a traumatic event he would never forget. Both Cory and I tried comforting him as best we could explaining that what we did was no picnic but we undoubtedly had saved the lives of the enslaved and terrified boys. He must shake off the terrible experience and put it behind him.

  What I didn’t tell him was that I too had been deeply affected by the event. But in my case, it was more about confusion than remorse. During the many years I had known and been with Sur, he had never shown any inclination to do something like we had just done. Why now? In the back of my mind I kind of figured it must have something to do with whatever had been troubling him.

  •

  I wasn’t afraid of much. More than once I’d gone through the fear and distress of being held under by a monstrous wave after a wipe out for what seemed like an eternity. But this event scared the shit out of me big time. I could understand search and rescue. But having to join in a deadly battle? That was not on my menu of things to do during my lifetime. And I had actually killed someone. When we charged down the hill, it seemed like all the guerillas were shooting at me. I hated them and shot back. I had to admit that the training we went through had paid off. All I can remember during our charge was that I needed to find a spot where I could kneel down, aim carefully and fire. I concentrated on squeezing the trigger slowly and gently like I had been taught. I had no problem when Sur told me to stay behind and protect the boys while the rest of them chased after the remaining guerillas. Sur knew that keeping the boys safe was my overpowering concern at that moment. I learned a lot about myself that day. I could I face a deadly enemy under fire and aim to kill. Furthermore, under such exigent circumstances, I couldn’t do any better than having my three buddies at my side especially Cory. He had acted instinctively and fearlessly. Sur had too of course but that was hardly surprising as he never seemed to be afraid of anything. And Ward? The perfectly calm and collected soldier.

  I had no doubt that this ordeal had adversely affected me more than the others though, surprisingly, Sur was a mess too. For him, it was guilt for including us in his mission. He just kept apologizing and apologizing in tears. We kept telling him we were grown men and had made our own decisions to participate. The three of us wouldn’t hesitate to follow him to the ends of the earth but, in my case, I wasn’t sure I could ever go down the path again of intentionally wanting to kill someone.

  •

  I felt so ashamed. How could I have been so stupid? I made a very bad decision in encouraging my buddies to join me on this mission. Rescuing the kids was a wonderful achievement, one that none of us will ever forget. But none of us will ever forget the killing part either not even Cory who had often killed enemy soldiers in Vietnam. Once we landed, boarded my jet and were safely over the Atlantic, I lost my composure and broke down sobbing. I couldn’t stop apologizing for placing them in this situation, all because of my continuing quest to address the war issue which had been plaguing me since my last days in the ‘Nam. Damn!

  When we eventually landed in Miami, we were all still somewhat in shock and anxious to erase the incident from our minds. After taking a cab to one of the local marinas, we boarded my newly commissioned yacht which was moored there. Far from being the largest around, it was structurally very strong and could travel at faster speeds than most other yachts. After getting acquainted with its crew of six, we headed for the Caribbean.

  For almost a month we cruised around enjoying mostly sunny wea
ther and smooth seas. Sometimes we slowed down to do some deep sea fishing and our catches would be served up at our evening meal. We reveled in our laziness but always made time every day to work out. Reading became popular. I was into philosophy just then for obvious reasons. Ward was into ancient history, Cory into military fiction and Jeremy into adult fantasies. My yacht had a state-of-the-art communications system which allowed us to view some live sporting events. It also carried a library of movies including many we had wanted to see in years past but had missed because we were off surfing. Whenever we arrived at a larger port to refuel and resupply, we would check into a resort hotel for two or three days. Jeremy especially loved the spas and would always schedule treatments. He also had a secondary motive of running into someone he could hopefully get to know a lot better later. Usually he didn’t have to try too hard. And if Cory were with him which he often was, Jeremy would be sure to help him find some friendly companionship as well. The two of them discovered early on that Caribbean ports were great places to meet women who wanted to have a good time.

  After returning to Guanacaste, my mind began to clear some and a path forward started coming into view. After years of tortuous indecision, the African incident had convinced me once and for all that the use of force has an unacceptable dark side regardless of the justification for using it. The moral damage to those inflicting force is just too great and could only get worse over time. You cannot kill the killers without being one yourself. And especially in our modern age, the use of force, regardless of the justification, could result in wreaking such havoc on human civilization that it might not ever be able to recover. Risking Armageddon is never an option and must be taken off the list. I realized now that the only way to address elimination of wars was to focus on utilizing non-violent means of reducing their causes, no matter how long it might take.

  A good start would be to chip away at reducing hunger, thirst and sickness in the world. Not far behind would be to enlighten the uneducated so that they could govern themselves without being misled or abused by tyrants. It was time to enlist David in helping me establish an independent foundation supported by the lion’s share of my wealth. Building treasure for all these years had put me in a position to perhaps make a difference in whittling down some of the causes of war and violence.

  Unquestionably, the African ordeal had taken its toll on me and deep down I knew that the days of the good life with my three amigos was drawing to a close.

  Chapter 26

  Foundation

  My foundation would be named Charity for Humans of the World or CHOW for short. It took nearly three years of careful planning before it was launched. During that period David and I worked closely with a number of consultants in structuring the foundation so that it could survive the test of time.

  The foundation would be governed by a board of nine trustees. My selections for the first board were David, Chen, Elizabeth, Randy, Miguel, Pierre, Ryan and Sherry. A board chair was yet to be chosen. All trustees except the chair would serve staggered six year terms. When a trustee’s term expired or a trustee was otherwise unable to serve, a replacement would be elected or reelected by majority vote of the remaining members. The board chair would serve a ten year term which could be renewed for successive periods. Except when necessary to break a tie vote, the board chair would not have a vote on board matters.

  I considered it extremely important to find a chair who was a visionary and a charismatic leader. I eliminated from consideration my lieutenants as they were needed to continue managing my businesses at least in the near term. Also, they all tended to shun public attention. David was the exception only because his expertise would be critical in organizing the foundation’s financial structure and arranging for the systematic transfer of my wealth to the foundation during its formative years. His term would be for two years only and he would not stand for reappointment.

  After much searching and consideration, I chose Betty to be the foundation’s chair. For more than two decades, she had been the chief executive officer of one of the most successful privately-held businesses in the States. She retired from that position when she was in her early fifties so that she could work with various organizations supporting protection of the environment. As a former Rhodes Scholar, she unquestionably had the intellectual capacity for the chair’s position. I had met her only once at a charity function hosted by Elizabeth at the Bar 7. Betty’s demeanor and confidence instantly stood out. She displayed astute political wisdom and possessed a great wit. I learned about her checkered past when she was a young woman but thought it of no consequence other than she probably should have exercised more discretion in protecting the confidentiality of her personal life. When you’re young, that doesn’t always happen. Since that incident, she had been very careful in keeping her personal life under wraps.

  David took the lead in interviewing her and educating her about the foundation with its primary objective of providing a spark of light in improving human civilization including protection of the environment. He disclosed to her the names and biographies of the eight persons, including himself, who would be on her initial board. He explained that the chair would need to live in Geneva, the city selected for the foundation’s headquarters. As chair she would be given free rein to select her own staff with the exception of the security chief who would be chosen by the full board. As a result of an initial donation made by one of the world’s wealthiest persons, the administrative costs of operating the foundation during its first ten years would be fully funded. If she decided to accept the chair’s position, the identity of that donor would be disclosed to her.

  After a week to think about, Betty communicated to David that she would be delighted to become the foundation’s new chair. David then identified me as the creator and benefactor of the foundation and that I would be pleased to meet with her. Several days later the three of us got together at her office in Minneapolis and her first question was “why haven’t I ever heard of you ?” I chuckled and proceeded to give her a brief biography. Bottom line, she hadn’t heard of me because of my unrelenting penchant for protecting my privacy. She was quite impressed with that lamenting that she wished she had been more careful about that when she was younger. I then proceeded to give her a rough estimate of the amount I would intend to donate to the foundation over the next decade. She gasped at the figure but I could tell she believed me. I emphasized that I had no intention of participating in the administration and operation of the foundation. She would be accountable only to her board and I would be out of the picture. I expected that personal communications between us in the future would be somewhat rare for various reasons but it was important that she know that I would always make myself available if she ever wanted to discuss any matter with me.

  In the meantime, Ward had leased office space in Geneva for the foundation’s temporary headquarters and had made arrangements to purchase a large parcel of vacant land where the foundation’s permanent headquarters could be built. The foundation was to have three separate divisions, one for human health to be headquartered in San Francisco, another for addressing human hunger to be headquartered in Singapore and the third for promoting world peace to be headquartered in San Jose.

  With the chair issue now resolved, David made arrangements to deposit in the foundation’s new Geneva bank account a sum reasonably expected to cover all of the foundation’s administrative costs for the next ten years. Deposited in a separate account was a sum approximating the estimated costs of constructing the foundation’s headquarters building and those of its three division headquarters. David had taken extreme measures to ensure that my name could not be traced to the deposits. At the first board meeting, Betty proudly announced to the other board members that the foundation was in receipt of these generous gifts. The donor, who wished to remain anonymous, also pledged to cover all shortfalls in funding the divisions’ chosen projects for the next two years. I had considered this necessar
y as it probably would take at least that long before outside donations were generated in sufficient amounts necessary to avoid shortfalls. While Betty was the only trustee who knew that I was the anonymous donor, I had no doubt that the rest of the trustees would assume it was me.

  The principle function of the board’s trustees would be to solicit contributions to the foundation and its projects. At the end of the first board meeting, Betty announced that she would make a large annual pledge to the foundation followed by David, Pierre and Miguel’s making of similar commitments. Fund raising efforts by all the directors then began in earnest. David and Pierre wined and dined fellow European tycoons. Chen, aided by Li, did the same in Asia. Betty, Susan, Randy, Ryan and Sherry began schmoozing in the States as did Miguel, with Paco’s help, in Central and South America.

  The board members had a number of selling points in their pockets. One was that the foundation was totally independent having no connection to any religion, organization or government. Its headquarters would located be in Geneva, a city well known for its neutrality. The three division headquarters were to be located in cities highly regarded for their reputations on recognizing and protecting human rights.

  Another plus was that no donations would be burdened by any administrative costs of the foundation as these had been prepaid by an anonymous donor for the next ten years and possibly longer. Further, the identities of donors and the details of their donations were to be kept strictly confidential by the foundation. The foundation would have a policy of encouraging donations to be made anonymously. Any public disclosures of donations would be neither confirmed nor denied by the foundation regardless of the circumstances.

  Another selling point, favored by the trustees, was the foundation’s bedrock commitment to transparency. Each year it would publicly disclose at the end of the first quarter its complete financial statement for the prior year including total donations received for that year and how they were allocated among the various projects of its divisions.