Brooklyn mom, Lexi Dwyer, recounts her sweet story in honor of Pete Seeger’s passing.
In November 2005, well before we had kids, my husband and I hiked Breakneck Ridge, a popular trail in the Hudson River Valley. The trailhead, which is just outside Cold Spring, starts with fairly steep rock scramble. Our plan was to hike and meet my friend Chrissy at her place nearby for an early dinner. We set out with Internet directions that we’d printed from a forum post (not even a map) and you can probably guess how things went. We learned a new word that day: City-ot, or idiot from the city.
Around 4 p.m. we accepted that we were lost. Down between the mountains the light was fading quickly. Thankfully we still had mobile phone reception and could talk to Chrissy and the forest rangers, but our two options weren’t great: Attempt the tricky rock scramble in reverse (being tired and a little dehydrated) since we sort of knew the way, or wait for the rangers to lead us out in the dark.
There was no one around—it was maybe half an hour since we’d seen anyone. We knew nobody would be starting the trail now. We were just about to accept the rangers’ offer to come get us when we met a guy named Adam Green. He was out for a short walk alone and we asked him if he knew an easy trail that would lead us out. Sensing our desperation, he offered to take us back to his friend’s house, where he had his car, and drive us back to our car at the trailhead.
When I called the ranger to tell her about our plan to go with a stranger she was not thrilled. But we liked Adam immediately, he was about our age, and had even lived near us in Brooklyn for a while. It’s not exactly a background check, but sometimes when you’re lost in the woods you just have to trust your instincts.
We walked for about ten minutes with Adam and once we got within view of his friend’s home, which was also deep in the woods, he said, “Do you know who Pete Seeger is? Because that’s his house.” I stumbled and caught my breath. Like many people my age, I’d grown up with his music. My dad played his records when I was little, then cassette tapes (fancy!) in the car on the 30-minute drive to school. My father preferred classical music, which made me roll my eyes, and I liked alternative. The sixties stuff was our compromise. Since we were lived in the Hudson River town of Ossining, New York, Pete Seeger was our very own local, folk-icon-activist-everyman. My parents saw him play solo at the school down the hill from us in the late 1960s.
It was almost eerie how the light faded almost the second we reached the bottom of his driveway. He came out to greet us and was kind, unpretentious, and completely unphased by the fact that his friend had just brought two random lost hikers back to his property. We met his cats (super-friendly) and he talked to us a little about writing kids’ books, and the constellations, and how much he loved his solar-powered garden lights from Home Depot. I was tired and thirsty and I remember having this desperate wish that I could physically absorb everything he was saying to review later. Even then I thought about how he wouldn’t be around forever.
We play his music quite a bit during dinner; Inch by Inch is a calming favorite. A few days ago my four-year-old daughter asked if Pete Seeger was 100, a number she’s currently obsessed with. I had to do some quick math and came up with 94, and marveled a bit that he was still with us. I’m not sure how I’m going to tell her that he didn’t make it. But I know it’s okay for kids to see that parents cry, too.
Everyone asks, how was Adam connected to Pete? Adam is the founder of a children’s nonprofit called Rocking the Boat. They teach underserved kids in the Bronx and Harlem how to build boats, and Pete, who was a longtime friend of Adam’s, was on their board. Adam had gone to his house for a meeting that we realized later was cut short by our folly. He is as much a part of this story as Pete is. I cried openly at a coffee shop when I read the news this morning. But I’m comforted that we will always have his music and the memory of that afternoon to share with our girls.
Lexi Dwyer began her career in publishing as an editor at Epicurious and later worked as both a travel editor and contributing editor at BRIDES magazine, where she scouted honeymoon destinations and reported on topics like food, party planning, beauty, and fashion. She is currently a regular contributor to Great Ideas, the food and home section for PEOPLE.com. She lives in Park Slope with her husband, two daughters, and their three-legged teenage cat.