Subscribe

Use the form on the right to subscribe to Meetinghouse! We will send you an email whenever a new post has been added.

 

Name *
Name
Mobile Phone
Mobile Phone
           

123 Street Avenue, City Town, 99999

(123) 555-6789

email@address.com

 

You can set your address, phone number, email and site description in the settings tab.
Link to read me page with more information.

We Never Would Have Been So Bold

Everything

We Never Would Have Been So Bold

Eric Muhr

by: Eric Muhr

I used to work as the education reporter for a newspaper in Idaho, and part of my job was covering spring graduation ceremonies. I attended a lot of commencement exercises. It wasn’t my favorite part of the job. Most of these events felt like little more than a jumble of inspiration about the journey we’re on, about where we’re headed. It was always the same.

Except one time it wasn’t.

At Boise State’s spring commencement in 2004, the university president asked for a moment of silence. We waited, almost 10,000 of us, packed to the rafters. The band played a slow rendition of “America the Beautiful,” and as it ended, a man yelled. The cry — muffled by bodies and distance — sounded something like a cap gun, a far-off explosion, small but distinct. He shouted a second time and then a third. He was calling a name. Michelle.

Another voice joined his from the opposite end of the pavilion, and then — a sudden swelling — the building was filled with a chorus of calls for Michelle and her classmates.

I’m still haunted by the moment, filled as it was with longing. Thousands — trapped in their seats — reached out with their voices, a compelling cacophony.

Had we been closer, we never would have been so bold.