“High-end restoration on old shacks”

Every time I chat with Dean Nordquist, I learn something new. I look at Uncle Dean, as he is fondly referred to by Meher Center staff, as a man who could be a character from a classical novel. He has a distinctive look, an uncanny sense of humor, a bubbling laughter and a unique point of view. Most importantly, he has purpose, backed by a deep work philosophy. A philosophy so deep that it is best not spoken about. When I met him for this article, I realized the need for the anonymity that his work demands.

For those who do not know Dean, he has been a fixture at the Center since 1987. After hearing about Baba from Arthur Kimball and Ken Richard, Dean moved to Myrtle Beach, accepting Jane Haynes’ offer for a job in maintenance of Center buildings. Before his destiny at the Center came calling, he went to Divinity school at Yale but did not become ordained. As a result, he ended up doing other work such as carpentry. Renovating houses for rich people taught him the attention to detail that he would need in the years to come. So how is the work he does here different from working for rich people? “The attention to detail is the same but here we are doing high end restoration on old shacks,” he says with his trademark effervescence.

The detail behind everything that is done at the Center finds its foundation in the days of the Center’s conception and development. Elizabeth Patterson said, “There is nothing done at the Center without thought of Meher Baba, or without consulting with Him.” By this she meant everything. She paid enormous attention to every aspect of a guest’s experience. Among other things, she was famous for making sure there were enough forks in every cabin and that the rug sat right by the bed so that the guest’s feet did not touch the cold floor when they got out of bed.

Over the years, Dean has worked closely with people who were trained directly under Elizabeth. He absorbed her value system, quite naturally, just as the newer staff continue to absorb it today. When we talk about the driving forces behind his work, Dean refers to Baba’s words. Meher Baba asked for the Center to be in 100 percent repair, ready for His return. In a letter dated July 10th, 1958, Baba asked for three buildings (Lagoon Cabin, Barn and Meher Abode) to be kept “as nearly as possible” to when He visited. All this was to be done within reason and meeting practical possibilities of the times to come. Elizabeth’s tutelage gives a flavor to all work that results from these words. Dean says, “These are our marching orders in a nutshell. They inform everything we do for the maintenance of the Center’s buildings and grounds.”

As part of this interview, I got the great chance to explore the Center with Dean. We drove in a rusty Center truck into the woodlands of a place we both call home. Through Dean, I saw a new dimension to this home and what goes on behind maintaining its sacred body. “We have forty wooden buildings in a rainy place that require maintenance and restoration even if they are not occupied.” This includes repairing and replacing a large number of appliances and lots of pieces of furniture, all while trying to retain the same look and feel of the Center. Little known also is the constant impact of wildlife on the cabins. “The cabins are delicious,” laughs Dean. He points to the hand railings and to the rafters on the back deck of the maintenance shop where he works to show me an example. “Carpenter bees drill a seven-sixteenths of an inch hole into the wood where they spend the winter. Now, in turn, a pileated woodpecker digs larger holes in the cabin to get to the bees. It looks like someone took a shotgun to the cabins,” laughs Dean. And then he adds, wittily, “It is job security for us.”

Another example of this organic coexistence of wildlife awaits us as we go to the Gator Lake Gazebo. Dean points out the blackish stains on the edges of the screen door on this remote trail. “Squirrels like to chew on the corners of the buildings. For some reason, they pee while they chew.” Dean then points to a wood stain that he has used to match the squirrel pee! As we drive through the rustic but well-ordered trails, I am admiring the natural beauty. Dean breaks our pregnant silence with words from Elizabeth. “Did you know?” he says, “Elizabeth said, ‘You cannot improve on nature.’”

Walking around the cabins, I notice the perfectly raked paths with the keen eyes that I have borrowed from Dean. Even if one doesn’t notice these details, one feels well taken care of. “Well, that is exactly it, we are trying to not attract attention.” What then is the reward in work that constantly craves anonymity? “Work itself is the reward and it doesn’t hurt that people are going to enjoy these cabins for decades. We are just maintaining a place where people can have their encounter with Baba. Our job is to get out of the way and remove distractions.”

I have wondered how decades of this dedicated work has shaped Dean. We discuss the three yogic paths. It is not a surprise that he was always drawn to Gyan Yoga (the path of knowledge) but over the years has come to see Karma Yoga (the path of action) as a means for the selfless service that Baba talks about in the Discourses. When I nudge him to talk more about his own growth over the years, he says, illusively, “One grows in the experience. Baba seems to have a peculiar sense of humor, never at anyone’s expense, but His humor has a deep irony.” He takes a breath and, summarizing his own surprise in the ever-expanding spiritual panorama, he concludes, “and you get to see that deep irony from time to time.”