... In The Wings of Salvation, Part 2

A Story of Salvation Mountain…. Cont’d from my last post on October 16

It’s helpful to be reminded that from despair and loss and the void of grief…. comes ecstasy.  

Just a short 15 minute drive to the south/east of the Salton Sea, on the hem of Niland, CA and the… oh-so-attractively-named…  Slab City…. lies… in a splendid spray of colour and play and make believe…. Salvation Mountain. 

Leonard Knight was a man who lived outside the lines.  And… I like that!  Though not much is written about him, (you can check out his official website:  www.salvationmountain.us/),

I’m going to guess that he was a brave man.  A quiet eccentric. A man of few words.  But, a man with a lot to say.  He was creative, tenacious and passionately religious.  

In 1984, at the age of 50, when some people begin counting their losses, Leonard began a celebration of sorts… a party… in the building of Salvation Mountain, his all-consuming tribute to God. 

Long after the shores of the tepid Salton Sea started receding, the fish dying and resort towns such as Bombay Beach and Salton City were taking their last breaths, Leonard chose his site, just a few miles from a dying shoreline, to declare his love for Christ and the Sinners Prayer.  Using building techniques familiar to desert regions, he declared his determination to create a tribute to a power beyond that would endure the vagaries of time by building his very own mountain from adobe, straw and thousands of gallons of lead free paint. 

Leonard’s salvation covers an entire hill and rises with pride and conviction off the Sonoran Desert floor.  The structure, hinting references to Antonio Gaudi, encompasses numerous murals painted with Christian sayings and verses from the Bible.  This massive undertaking would consume Leonard for the rest of his life.  In 2011 he moved to a long term care facility with dementia.  He died in 2014. 

 It was Leonard’s hope that his message of love be seen by people from all over the world.  But, it’s not easy to find since there’s no signage to direct people to the site.  And, despite being proclaimed "a profoundly unique, strange and visionary national treasure" by the US government in 2002… in addition to being declared a “folk art site worthy of preservation and protection” by the Folk Art Society of America… the site does not receive any government funding.  It’s a group of equally tenacious volunteers who have taken on the task of maintaining Leonard’s legacy to this day.   And… more tenacious people find their way to the party.  Get yourself to Bombay Beach or Niland, and Slab City, CA and the locals will direct you.  http://www.salvationmountain.us/history2.html 

I don’t know what Leonard might have been escaping from in his life.  His brief biographies (www.salvationmountain.us/bio.html)  don’t mention his losses or grief or the aberrations of his life that might have brought him to the desert to live in his truck without water or electricity for 30 years.  But, he went to Slab City for a week, to build a monument, and he stayed.  I’m going to take liberties and say that he must have been escaping something,… either internal or external.  The reasons don’t really matter. What matters is his tenacious legacy of hope and commitment and determination that began when a short distance away, a sea receded and opportunity was lost. 

I hope my point is obvious.  From loss comes latitude.  From despair comes opportunity. From grief comes renewal.  From sadness comes blessings.  From depression comes ecstasy.  But, in order to achieve these positives one must have the courage to see.  And… not everybody does see.  The people who remain on the edges of the Salton Sea may not be able to see… for any number of reasons.  But, Leonard Knight… he, saw God.  He saw the party.  He saw salvation.  Within himself.  And, I think that’s kick-ass.  His tribute to God, regardless of one’s religious or spiritual affiliation, offers momentary delight, joy, hopefulness, exhilaration… and, yes…. ecstasy. Leonard saw what the salty patrons (pun intended!) of the Ski Inn cannot.   I hope to see my life like Leonard Knight saw his.