It’s summer 2022. Time for reflection, time for games. I have one for you.

It always came up at theater or Hollywood parties, where everyone was soaked in Merlot, and guests start waving their hands to get their choices on the board.

Now that the graduations are history, super shredder weddings are planned, I know you are all sitting around campfires, out on damp decks, barbecuing, popping open a beer and watching the moon come up over your own personal piece of a lake. Give it a try.

It’s called, “When you get to Heaven, who, among the endless trillions passed, would you want to meet and question?”

Family, of course, but we’re talking about eternity here. There’s time for them.

I can tell I’ve hit a button. You’re already talking about this question over your eggs and toast.


Let’s say 100 years from now, you wake up, and there you are on those Baptist golden streets.

Oh, mercy (you’re gonna want some of that). There they are, from Adam and Eve to Billy Graham and Mother Angelica, sitting at picnic tables, eating Eve’s special apple pie.

Oh my, there’s Abraham Lincoln who keeps asking everybody, “How’d that play end?”

At the big newcomers’ cocktail party, the welcome committee is made up of people like Tammy Faye Bakker and Moses, and of course, Jesus.

Oh, you’re Jewish? Relax, so was He. What would you ask Him? Don’t start confessing, He’s not into hearing you recite those years of sins you committed. He’s already forgiven you.

That’s why you’re here. Smile.


There’s always somebody like my cousin Kate O’Meara who always asked, “Who was the woman at the Last Supper?” Really, Kate?

I remember parties where silly questions about the Last Supper were asked, like “What kind of wine was served?” or “Did you have a choice of fish or meat?” I think it was a kosher menu.

Freddie Blackman would ask, “Was there a kid’s table?”

“Oh, Freddie, c’mon.”

“At all my seders, there was always a kids’ table.”

Charlie Clausen always dreamt of asking Judas Iscariot a question, but he whispered it. Judas is up here too, see how it works?


You could always count on silly questions like that. If I were you, I would avoid them and order more beer.

My niece, Lisa the family cop, always wanted to talk to Jack Kennedy.

“C’mon, Jack, Marilyn? Really? When you had Jackie right there?”

Sports fans will want to sit down with Lou Gehrig, Babe Ruth or Jim Thorpe.

Real older sports aficionados would always want to talk to “Shoeless” Joe Jackson, tainted by the 1919 World Series scandal.

“Joe, did you, Joe? C’mon Joe, tell me you didn’t know.”


It’s June 5 as I write this. You’re curious about this column. Any questions?

Last night I had a dream about meeting my old friend, Ray Bradbury, who died on June 5, 2012.

He’ll be there as a guide, walking newcomers down those larkspur lanes and out into the great gorgeous fields.

Everyone will ask Ray about those curious fields of thousands of strange little flowers in the clouds.

“Those aren’t flowers,” he’d whisper.

“They’re children who’ve just arrived, and they all have a question for you. Anyone here have an answer?”

How about you?

Let’s see some hands. Anyone?

J.P. Devine is a Waterville writer. 

Only subscribers are eligible to post comments. Please subscribe or login first for digital access. Here’s why.

Use the form below to reset your password. When you've submitted your account email, we will send an email with a reset code.

filed under: