Giving and Giving

When I think about Ann Conlon now, I think about giving. It starts with her Baba story: she was a young journalist in New York who had grown up Catholic but who, when she heard about Baba and was told He was the Christ, found herself saying simply, “that’s right, He is.” Nevertheless, despite her increasing inner connection with Baba, she wasn’t able to meet Him during His 1958 visit, or afterward due to His seclusion.

Then, in 1961, Ann was at the Monday night Baba meeting in New York when Fred Winterfeldt walked in with a letter from Mani. Part of it read: “Baba had decided, because of the longing of His lovers, to open the door a crack in His seclusion. His lovers may come for one hour on any one day over a two week period then go right home.”* Ann described being stunned at those words, with the immediate feeling that, “This is my chance, this is my only chance.”

The feeling was quickly followed by Ann’s recognition that she had no money. But her dear friend Liz Sacalis, sitting right next to her, had a strong feeling of her own: that if she looked over and Ann wanted to go, she would give her the money. And seeing the expression on Ann’s face, she knew that that’s what would happen. There was only enough money in the bank account that Liz shared with her sister, Ginny Sadowsky, for one person to make the journey, and they sent Ann—who remembered them standing at the airport, waving her off with as much excitement, love and enthusiasm as if they were going themselves.

At the end of the journey, Ann found herself in Poona, India, on the steps of Guruprasad, where Baba was staying. And then from those steps, through two big doors, she finally saw the face of her Beloved. Her recollection of that moment is timeless:

I felt again that same wave of love that I had felt in Myrtle Beach in the Lagoon Cabin, only so much stronger that I stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t move; my legs froze. Baba looked at me and He smiled. He put out His arms like this: “Come on!” I went running into His arms and burst into tears. And in that moment of feeling those arms around me, I knew for the first time in my life that I was completely safe and completely loved and completely accepted. There would never be another Being in the world from Whom I would get such total acceptance, such total love … No matter what happened to me for the rest of my life, I was safe and He would be there.*

Instead of just an hour, Baba let Ann spend the entire week with Him. And when He heard about the gift that had allowed her to come, there were tears in His eyes. “Baba is touched by such love for Baba and for a friend,” He gestured. He sent a telegram to Liz and Ginny, signing it from Ann: “Baba says, because you have helped me come to Baba, you have made Baba come closer to you. Baba sends His love to you both.”

Ann returned to the U.S with what she had received during that week in Poona. In 1971 she moved to Myrtle Beach and would spend many weekends sitting in the Original Kitchen, making herself available to chat with newcomers. That role developed into a position at the Gateway where she was both kind and no-nonsense. As Ann’s dear friend, Sheila Krynski, put it when I talked with her about Ann, “nobody could get by her, but she was incredibly loving. She was a [true] gatekeeper.”

Ann also started helping at Sheriar Press, which grew into a full-time role that she filled for decades: running the bookstore; writing her charming, down-to-earth column for Sheriar’s “All Baba Things Considered;” and reviewing and editing Baba material for publication. And Ann continued to make herself available. Visitors to Myrtle Beach would come to the bookstore to buy Baba literature, of course, but also to talk to Ann. As Sheila puts it: “People liked talking to her because they liked the way she listened to them and shared her Baba perspective with them.” She would make people laugh, and, as always, they could feel what was underneath. Whether chatting at the bookstore, spending fun-filled hours with the Mandali at Meherazad, serving as the exacting secretary of the Board, or greeting a new person at the Center, “Baba was at the root of everything she had to say… and it was unequivocal.”

After we finished talking about Ann, Sheila told me she was glad this story would be written because “Ann isn’t somebody who should ever be forgotten.” Baba said, during that bright week at Guruprasad in 1961, that He loved Ann very much; and from that love He gave her, she kept giving and giving for the rest of her life.

*From a talk given by Ann Conlon at the 1986 L.A. Sahavas