I strolled along the red-bricked streets of old Annapolis today. To you and Europeans 1647, the year Annapolis was founded , seems but yesterday in the annals of your existence. But here we Americans stare in awe of the old seaport and fantacize at what must have gone on in the days of its beginings. A whole, vast land awaited men's dreams like a coddled child. The seas were wide and free as the land and a lure to all adventurers as well as sometimes a formidable obstacle.

The quaintness of old Annapolis echoes a spirit in us all--the undying gift of Theta to shape and mold and form the universe into a better place, a happier place, a more perfectly beautiful and safer place. Along the narrow streets one strolling cannot avoid his neighbor stroller, nor can the shopkeeper from his competitor across the way. It's a closeness now lost in the urban sprawl of cities and the coldness of bussiness and profit where one seldom takes the time to acknowledge the passerby let alone miss the affinity of an old Annapolis.

Looking out across the gentle waters of Annapolis Harbor, I am moved again to the serenity it must have given to weary sailors and voyagers in the 1600s. There is scarcely a sign of war. Sailing ships float effortlessly about the harbor as if propellled by a dream and folks sit at the seaside cafes immersed in their interchange, softly like the even waters of the harbor. There seems to be a oneness with nature here in this old place, an anacronism in these turbulent times of unpredicted terror.

Yet, Annapolis is not an anacronism for it exist as an extension of our spirits. It is Earth's reflection of who we realy are. Not war or hate or insane cruelties, nor sensational press or politics moves this quite haven. It is as it
was in 1647: the harbor of men's dreams

And one day every shore and strand of Earth will be Annapolis.