ELFAST - On a soft spring evening beneath a pastel sky and late-setting sun, a gaggle of media along with 1,000 fans waited patiently to greet a singing celebrity while a solitary figure of rumpled courage stood, his back to the magnificent new Waterfront Hall, peering across the River Lagan toward a slow locomotive making its way over a trestle and out of town. John Hume, a man whose life has been at risk for nearly 30 years due to his views as well as his enemies, could finally see the beginning of what might be the conclusion of three decades of debris left scattered throughout the North from war and hate and bigotry and the unrelenting anchor of memory.
Hume first charged on the scene during Bloody Sunday on the streets of his hometown Derry, back in 1969, when Protestants engaged in the wholesale slaughter of Catholics. He has been center stage since and, now, he paced slowly, awkwardly, in the shadow of a structure - a sparkling glass convention hall better than anything Boston can display - that symbolizes a possible future.
Hume and the Unionist Party leader, David Trimble, bided time until Bono and U-2 arrived for a concert to rally a youth vote on behalf of today's ballot proposition for peace. In an odd way, time has always been the ultimate nemesis in Northern Ireland, forever moving forward with at least one hand stuck firmly in the past.
Over time, John Hume has been shot at, spat at, ignored, ridiculed, and reviled. He looks like he rarely has a good night's sleep because he has had his life threatened by terrorists on both sides of the street here on more occasions than he can recall, and through it all he has managed to keep the focus on the fact that peace could be possible in a land divided by a deep, secular hate if only the two sides spoke.
Hume spoke to anyone who would listen: to the British, to the Americans, to the Irish in the South who, despicably, turned their backs on Catholics in the North the way some in American suburbs often hide from relatives still stuck in a city housing project. He spoke for 30 years, to Protestant leaders in Ulster, to Catholics in Dublin, New York, Boston and Washington. And, finally, secretly, he spoke to Gerry Adams, now a rather chic figure on the international stage.
So here was John Hume the other evening - a wonderful, mellow Belfast day's end that would have been impossible to imagine only a year ago. He wore a blue suit, yellow shirt, print tie, thick black shoes, and a face familiar to disappointment, almost unwilling to smile at the ironic yet pleasant possibilities that arrive with today's sunrise.
He walked at the edge of a river located in a city ruptured by years of violence, in a country where a generation has grown up, grown old, or grown dead with fear a constant in their lives. It is still a place where people - Protestant and Catholic - stand in the doorwells of their bungalows and list the casualties along their block, as if they were letter carriers working a large, lethal zip code where too many were murdered due to the simple fact of faith.
Now the great rock band approached and Hume, along with Trimble, took a few steps toward Bono before all stood in a straight line as photographers recorded the moment and young people squealed. Bono grabbed Hume and Trimble by their wrists to thrust their arms into the air, displaying them like two shy and exhausted prizefighters who had just finished a draw.
The rhythm of the night was part of a different tune in a town where music had always been drowned out by the disappointment of dynamite. Yet, Belfast is coming alive, due to an optimism activated by men like Hume. The center, once claustrophobic with checkpoints and British soldiers, is filled with shoppers and 20-piece orchestras playing on sidewalks battered by bombs a few years ago. Fear has found a worthy opponent in a growing economy.
Then the short news conference concluded and Bono, Hume, and Trimble disappeared through a stage door of Waterfront Hall, where they remained invisible until an hour later when all three stood on stage as U-2 sang ''Give Peace a Chance'' while a Catholic grasped a Protestant's hand in a simple sign of alliance.
And John Hume, who never lost hope in a land where the past has always refused to relinquish its grip on the present, knew that, finally, he and his weary people stood at the edge of peace and a civilized existence that moves forward today.
