Reviews of ZEN on Honolulu Star Advertiser

The Art of Giving

The San Diego Union-Tribune, Nov 25, 2001 by Ed Zieralsk
Copyright San Diego Union-Tribune Publishing Company


The last line of the Declaration of Independence reads: "And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor."

Like most of us since Sept. 11, Greg Gutierrez has wanted to do something to help his fellow countrymen whose lives were ripped apart by terrorists.

Gutierrez also is like the rest of us in that he has a job, family and responsibilities that make it difficult to find the time and money to make much of an impact.

But Gutierrez found a way, and I'm not surprised.

A few years ago I began getting letters from him about his surfboard fishing and artwork and occasional fishing trips he sponsored for his kids at Southwest High School. Gutierrez plays two important roles at Southwest. He teaches U.S. history, and he coaches the saltwater fishing team.

Away from school, he's an accomplished artist. Sometimes he'd enclose a painting or two with his fishing reports, and the paintings got better with each letter.

We met at one of the annual Windansea Boardfishing Tournaments, Allen Repashy's yearly bashes at the Pumphouse that test the angling abilities of watermen from throughout Southern California. Gutierrez's paintings have become a prized item at this event. One of his paintings of a yellowfin tuna proudly hangs in my home, and after hearing Gutierrez's account of his recent visit to New York, it will forever have special meaning.

You see, Gutierrez did something I wish I had done. He went back to Ground zero. He volunteered his time and energy at Bouley Bakery in New York City by unloading fish, cutting fish, helping cook it, cutting vegetables and cleaning up. Some of the fish he unloaded was donated sport-caught fish from Fish For America, the organization started by Anaheim's Chuck Robinson. Gutierrez said Robinson pulled strings so Gutierrez could get work at Bouley feeding the workers and volunteers at Ground Zero.

Before he left Nov. 2, Gutierrez made peace with his very concerned wife, Beth Anne. He convinced her that he'd return to her and the couple's two children. At first his wife didn't understand, but then she gave him her blessing.

"I'm not surprised you want to go there," Beth Anne told him.

"Ain't love grand?" Gutierrez said.

Gutierrez took a red-eye flight from Ontario to save money. He went days without sleep and admits he was feeling "a little detached" from his body when he bent the rules to get some photographs of the devastation at the site of the World Trade Center on November 3.

"Tension in the air was high," Gutierrez said. "The day before, the police had to stop the firemen from searching for victims. It was a brawl. Firemen were arrested and police were injured. Mayor Rudy Giuliani had decided that only 25 police and 25 firemen would be allowed to go on searching. He cited safety reasons and believed it was time to use bulldozers and begin the real cleaning."

It was in that kind of environment that Gutierrez scaled a truck and some scaffolding to get atop a container truck to get some pictures of ground zero. He wanted to share them with his students at Southwest High.

But a woman spotted him and alerted all below. Gutierrez snapped off two photos and hustled down. He thought he was a free man as he walked away quickly, but that's when he met Officer Valverde.

"You're under arrest," he told Gutierrez as he tore the camera from his hands, ripped the film out and slashed it with a knife. Valverde told Gutierrez he was taking him to the FBI when Gutierrez began pleading his case with the burly New York cop.

"I worked seven weeks to get here," Gutierrez said. "I teach U.S. history in San Diego. Every U.S. history teacher in America should see this. Our enemies teach their children to hate us from the time they're old enough to learn. We need to teach our students, too."

But the policeman still wasn't moved to let Gutierrez go. So Gutierrez made one last plea.

"Officer Valverde, where are the other U.S. history teachers?" Gutierrez asked. "Why aren't they here? Can you please answer me that? Didn't you ever have a teacher who made a difference in your life?"

Gutierrez began yelling, and he repeated his plea about teachers and the difference they make in lives.

Officer Valverde eased his grip on Gutierrez. The two men looked at each other, probably for the first time, as two Americans, as two fathers, as two men who knew the real enemy in all this was far away from this spot.

"Yes, Mr. Gutierrez, I did have a teacher who made a difference in my life," Valverde said. "That's why I'm here. I know people need to see this. You can go now."

For the next few days, Gutierrez saw the real New York City. He rode with a turban-wearing Sikh cabdriver from India. He visited Fire Station Ladder 24 on West 31st Street to meet some friends of fireman Steve "Bells" Belson, a surfing fireman who lost his life at the World Trade Center on Sept. 11.

"He was a lifeguard who became a fireman," Gutierrez said.

Gutierrez did some phone work and tracked down Belson's company. When he visited the Fireman's Memorial section at ground zero, he found the tribute poster to Belson. He touched it and whispered, "I'm going to tell your story."

Gutierrez is back teaching at Southwest High. He's a changed man, no doubt. A better father, husband, teacher and artist, for sure. When he returned home, he hugged his understanding wife, kissed his sleeping children and repaired to his rocking chair, where his German shepherd, Aja, snuggled against him.

But he still felt that urge to help, still felt the need to go back to New York. "What if the produce truck needed unloading?" he thought. "What if some meat needed delivering? What if some potatoes needed peeling?"

Asked about the trip recently, Gutierrez said he thought it was a "very selfish thing to do. It was something I had to do for myself."

Forget about it, Greg. Go catch some waves. Go fishing with your kids. You did your part, and then some. We should all be so selfish. Thanks from all of us who wish we would have gone and for inspiring us to still think about going or doing something.


Ed Zieralski can be reached at (619) 293-1225 or ed.zieralski@uniontrib.com


Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction or distribution is prohibited without permission.