My mother had a special place in Alaska where she’d often go to seek solitude from the big city. She lived in Anchorage, which could be quite noisy and chaotic. Jet airplanes took off and landed at a nearby military base, and vehicle traffic was heard throughout all hours of the day.
Having limited areas to get away from the hustle and bustle, there were a few spots in town where quietness prevailed, yet others flocked there as well. Cheney Lake used to be a good location, but young people often found the need to listen to loud music, totally ruining the tranquility.
Mom’s sanctuary was the Family Christian Center parking lot, located some 44 miles away from her home. From this parking lot, she could see Pioneer Peak in the near distance. That rugged mountain meant lots to her because when we moved to Anchorage in 1966, Mom was taken in by its rugged beauty over anything else.
She’d bring lunch with her to Palmer during weekdays, and just sit in that parking lot and pray to God while gazing at his magnificent work of art. She said that sometimes she napped. On Sundays, Mother attended church in Palmer and listened to the preaching of Pastor Peter Gallardo.
This Man of God officiated at her graveside service, with a granite monument placed over her burial spot in Pioneer Cemetery facing Pioneer Peak. That was her wish and was only made possible via Pastor Gallardo’s help since my mother wasn’t a resident of Palmer.
Joleen and I have our own sanctuary, and it too is located out of town. Our little spot in Kingman, Arizona, is approximately 63 miles from our home in Lake Havasu City. This piece of ground is where we first wanted to build a home in the late 1990s, but unfortunately, it wasn’t for sale back then.
Taking a drive through the area in 2015, there was a realtor’s sign out front, and within hours, we snapped things up. From that point on, Joleen and I have been up there countless times to merely relax and count our blessings.
Our little Pekingese dog, Simon, loved walking the grounds while sniffing bushes and grass, marking every bit of the turf for his own. After Simon passed away in 2023, we named it Fort Simon after him.
Located in Cerbat Canyon, it’s relatively quiet even though trucks and cars on I-40 are easily seen. A sound wall will eventually eliminate the minimal amount of noise coming from this busy highway. There is a family of foxes in the vicinity, including deer on occasion, along with hawks, and of course, poisonous rattlesnakes.
Our plans were still to build a home there, even having blueprints drawn up and certified. COVID changed all that with us shifting directions, deciding to use the lot as a place of reverence more than anything else. That could still change.
While some might prefer a cabin in the woods to get away, either flying or boating to get there, all of the amenities of home are located within one mile’s distance from our tiny sanctuary. An authentic Mexican Restaurant is less than that, with Safeway and Marshalls department store about the same — all of them easily reached by walking or riding a bicycle.
I believe everyone needs a quiet place to flee life’s pressures and to seek God. Church is the preferred location, but Jesus can be found everywhere. Mother talked to him in an asphalt parking lot in Alaska overlooking a tall mountain, while Joleen and I did the same within a small canyon property we call Fort Simon.
My wife and I don’t look at things we possess as being ours — we’re merely custodians until moving on to Heaven. For those needing a bit of sanity, you’re welcome to visit our spot at 2430 Country Club Drive in Kingman. All that we ask is that you rehook the rope hook before leaving and take any trash with you.
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