Adrian Barich: the best of our community spirit shone through as we searched for lost Norman Krakouer
I’m not sure if it was the people I encountered while walking Frank or my innate attraction to adventurous spirits, but I’ve never been more impressed by an epic journey that didn’t involve me.
While a friend is about to spend three months cycling from Norway to Spain, I’m struggling to find enough free time to play 18 holes at Royal Wembley.
I thought it was extraordinary as we drove from Perth to Bondi for my friend John’s 80th birthday. This latest adventure is right there.
My friend, if you don’t mind, is leaving tomorrow to tackle the journey known as the Pilgrims’ Way, which begins in Trondheim, the historic Viking capital of Norway, and eventually ends in Santiago de Compostela in Spain.
Somehow he convinced his wife that disappearing to the top of the world by bike for three months was a perfectly reasonable idea.
The route follows ancient routes through Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Germany, France and Spain. Along the way it will pass through forests, mountain passes, agricultural regions, medieval towns and some of the most spectacular landscapes in Europe. There are long climbs, gravel roads and long distances. Just thinking about the history you passed must be sensational.
It’s not just the view or the distance I expect that fascinates me. It is the willingness to embrace uncertainty.
Waking up every day not quite sure what lies ahead, what circumstances you’ll encounter, or who you’ll meet along the way.
It’s been an incredible adventure and I can’t wait to hear all the stories when it returns.
But as I reflected on one man’s journey through Europe, I also found myself reflecting on something much closer to home.
A few weeks ago, as that terrible storm ripped through Perth, I watched hundreds of people volunteer to search for Norman, an 11-year-old boy with autism who got lost wearing only shorts.
The weather was terrible. It was raining and the wind was howling. But people kept coming.
Neighbours. Foreigners. Volunteers. People traveled long distances to participate in this work; most had never met Norman or even knew his family.
On Sunday morning, I was at the Claremont Showground when the search began again to see it with my own eyes. I met Norman’s frantic father, who, after a sleepless night, was continuing his search on a bicycle.
He looked tired and scared, but determined.
I think every parent can relate to these feelings. Fear. Despair. The desperate hope that your child will somehow be okay.
Thank God, that’s exactly what happened. He found Norman. Someone later told me that he was thought to have been asleep in a slide in a playground on Davies Road in that weather!
The relief felt in Perth, and particularly in the western suburbs, was overwhelming. But as I’ve thought about it since, the reactions from local families, mothers, fathers and children have stayed with me.
All people ready to brave the weather to help. Often people don’t take back their shopping carts unless the parking lot is hidden, but they were there during the storm.
They walked through parks, bushes, checked out the lake, and trudged through the streets in the pouring rain. They gave up their time, energy, and weekends because another family needed help.
Nobody was getting paid. No one was seeking recognition. They just showed up.
This says something powerful about who we are. These days we hear a lot about division, selfishness, and people only looking out for themselves.
When you scroll through social media, you’d be forgiven for thinking the world is a bad place.
But that’s not the community I see. The community I saw was the community that emerged for Norman.
A society that understands that when a family suffers, everyone must bear the burden.
The real story of our community is rarely found in headlines, statistics or politics. It occurs in ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
A former farmer is cycling across Europe in search of who knows what. A large group of strangers searching for a little boy in the middle of the storm.
Very different journeys. But both remind us that life is richer when you’re ready to step outside your comfort zone.
When you are willing to do something difficult. They think 80 percent of success is just emerging. And the willingness to show up changes us and makes us a little better each time.
