A Visionary Leads His Flock on Flight of Peace

Seven weeks ago, acclaimed Oceanside author Victor Villasenor had a vision that went something like this: A gaggle of peaceful snow geese was squawking and squealing in a show of global harmony as the spirit of Villasenor’s Indian grandmother told him that humans, too, could live in peace.

It’s not the type of vision most people act on.

But Villasenor is not most people. The author of the well-regarded “Rain of Gold”--which chronicles three generations of his Mexican family and its immigration to California, and which has been described as a Mexican-American “Roots”--put the word out that others should join him as “snow geese” and head for Spain to celebrate the first-ever “Global Thanksgiving.”

About 40 “geese,” most of them friends and family of Villasenor, took flight Tuesday morning from Lindbergh Field, decked out in matching snow goose sweat shirts designed by Villasenor’s 16-year-old son. A group of Los Angeles teachers and Native Americans from the Chicago area are expected to meet up with them in Madrid.

Three hours before sunset Thursday, they will ritually forgive Columbus for invading the continent and move into a new era of worldwide togetherness--one Villasenor hopes will last for 5,000 years.

Villasenor hopes the “Snow Goose Project” will draw more and more participants yearly who will land on some foreign soil or other, guided in their message by the calm spirits of the group’s women and children.

Sounds far-fetched, but these are no shabby delusions: King Juan Carlos and Queen Sofia of Spain have received copies of Villasenor’s book, a painted snow goose and snow goose T-shirts, and an embassy official has said they may just show up Thursday in Madrid’s Parque de la Oueste for the big event. As for the long-term legacy, Villasenor, 52, said two major corporate sponsors have already expressed interest in helping out next year.

The concept, like Villasenor’s own train of thought, is somewhat fluid. But combine the Columbus quincentennial with the traditional Thanksgiving notion of Pilgrims and Indians united in a feast of cross-cultural understanding, throw in the 2-million-year legacy of a peaceful migratory bird and a desire to forgive the violence of the past for a more harmonious future, and you’ve mastered the Villasenor world view.

“You know that there’s a lot of anger going on around Columbus, people saying it was invasion and not discovery?” Villasenor said. “So we’re saying, OK, it was an invasion. So what? Let’s forget all the Hitlers and all the Holocausts all over the world, and join hands in a real Thanksgiving.

“Instead of having dinner with immediate family, and eating a lot and getting stuffed, invite that neighbor or the stranger down the street, or the person you never really liked, and make it really be about Thanksgiving.”

In Madrid, that will mean an open invitation to participate in a spontaneous ritual involving a giant 50-year-old sombrero from Los Altos de Jalisco, Mexico, that belonged to Villasenor’s father, and a flag depicting the snow goose flying across a heart-shaped moon. The ritual will be followed by a potluck open to anyone who wants to join in, including the king and queen.

“I’m saying, let’s put all our energy into the people who are at peace. If we reinforce that, every year we will realize we are peaceful people,” said Villasenor, who had the snow goose vision after giving a talk about “Rain of Gold” in Portland seven weeks ago.

“A bunch of American Indians said, ‘How do you feel about Columbus, and what are you going to do about it?’ And I said, ‘I don’t know,’ and they were very upset,” Villasenor recalled. “I woke up at 2:30 a.m., and said, ‘God, what I want is global forgiveness.’ ”

Then came the “open letter,” printed in two San Diego County publications. The full page of meandering text begins with “The Vision,” dips into a parable of greedy men who lose touch with love, women and children in their lust for power and fancy things, and concludes with “The Done Deal.”

That’s where the trip to Spain enters in--at the very end. But in a tribute to the American attention span unparalleled since H. Ross Perot’s half-hour commercials, people read it.

“I received hundreds of responses to the open letter,” Villasenor said. “We also got 500 tear sheets, and mailed them out to teacher groups, library groups, migrant worker groups, to all these different groups.”

Villasenor also approached the conference leadership of a 10,000-member National Indian Pow-Wow in Chicago.

The result: a flock of snow geese at least 40 strong.

The vision--which so compelled Villasenor that he has spent $25,000 to publish the letters, send out the tear sheets and finance the trips of those who couldn’t afford to pay their own way to Spain--was guided by the spirit of his Indian grandmother--”short, skinny and old”--who died in her 90s in Corona, Calif., on Mother’s Day 54 years ago, he said.

Her spirit was also the guiding force behind “Rain of Gold,” a book that took 16 years to write and chronicles his family history, including his grandmother’s story.

Last year, when the hardcover version of his book was published, Villasenor became known as a man who does things his way, against terrific odds.

After receiving a $75,000 advance from publisher G. P. Putnam & Sons, and with a book club deal in hand, he was faced with a choice: Change the title to “Rio Grande,” cut more than 100 pages and call it fiction, or back out of the deal and pay back the advance after years of writing and debt.

Villasenor pulled out, and it took him months to find Arte Publico Press, a small Houston publisher that offered him a $1,500 advance.

Buying the book back, Villasenor explained at the time, plunged him into a state of total terror. He was hospitalized twice, and for days could not eat or drink. He sucked on ice, hoped for the best and was ultimately rewarded.

Now, Dell/Dellacorte is publishing the paperback, and has sold 75,000 copies in the past two months alone, Villasenor said.

Success has vaulted him to euphoric heights.

“Do you know what this is really, really about?” Villasenor asked, as he and his group milled around the American Airlines ticketing counter Tuesday, exchanging greetings and removing the homeopathic medicines from their luggage to save them from the wrath of the magnetic detectors.

“It shows that there is no difference in my life anymore between fantasy and reality, or dream and non-dream. There’s a saying in Spanish that those who dream at night are the regular people. But those who dream in the day, with their eyes open, they are the visionaries.

“It all started when I decided to become a writer 32 years ago--when I couldn’t even read. And I ran up the San Luis Rey River bed, sweating, and saying over and over, ‘I’m going to be a writer. I’m going to be a writer,’ ” Villasenor said.

That accomplished, world peace is next.

But will the courtly visits to foreign shores really translate into global harmony?

“It will,” said Jim Meyers, a Sacramento video cameraman going along to document Villasenor’s adventure. “And all of us on this trip are going to do everything in our power to see that it does carry our message. That’s why we’re going--with this crazy man who has visions.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” said Ed Singer, a Navajo painter from New Mexico who is making the trip with his wife, photographer Carm Little Turtle. “You can only do something about the future. I see it as a chance for the Old World to be apprised of the New World’s contributions.”