It was an eloquent act of faith and love, carried out in profound sadness and outright fun.

"Their hope was that they would go back for their high school graduation and take Alex with them," said the Rev. Stephen Cowardin, rector of the Episcopal Church of the Redeemer in Midlothian, Va.

But Alex, who was in Seattle undergoing a bone-marrow transplant when his Journey to Adulthood group made its Anglican pilgrimage last year, never got well. He died Nov. 5. He was 16.

For Alex's parents, Gregg and Laurie, the next few months were brutal. "It is not difficult to cry five or six times a day," Gregg said. It helps to talk about the type of son Alex was. Kind and smart, popular and athletic. Wise beyond his years, too. He had been in gifted programs through school and had been admitted to the Maggie L. Walker Governor's School for Government and International Studies. He played basketball, soccer and lacrosse. He loved the Duke Blue Devils basketball team and wanted to go to school there. He had big dreams and great passion.

Alex was the youngest of three children -- the baby of the family -- and it was a crushing blow to his parents when he was diagnosed with leukemia just before his 14th birthday. Chemotherapy followed, then cross-country treatment. Despite doctors, prayers and love, nothing could restore Alex's health. And nothing can soften the heartache for the Kalatas, not even knowing they did everything they could.

But last spring, they did one more thing for Alex. They went to England to search for the hidden coins.

The Kalatas flew to London for the baptism of their only grandchild, Zachary Alexander, who was born a few months before his namesake uncle fell ill for the last  time. From there, Gregg and Laurie went on a 10-day quest, motoring hundreds of miles around the English countryside, exploring grand cathedrals and poking through rocky ruins, desperately looking for 19 precious coins that to the Kalatas were far more than religious tokens. "Every time we found a coin," Gregg said, "it was like finding a little part of Alex."

A close-knit journey

The Journey to Adulthood (also known as J2A) group at the Church of the Redeemer had been together through four years of study and fellowship. The class of 18 had become great friends as they worked to plan and raise money for the program finale: a pilgrimage to England to learn more about their religious heritage.

When it became clear Alex would be unable to make the trip, Cowardin, the rector, suggested those going on the trip do something special on Alex's behalf. The idea of hiding the coins -- which had been ordered by the husband of one of the J2A teachers -- was born.
"They would go into these cathedrals and hide the coins," Cowardin recalled. "It was fun for them to do that. But then they would think about what they were doing, and you'd see a bunch of them hugging each other and crying. Alex was very popular. There wasn't a kid in that group that didn't love Alex."

The class lit candles and said prayers for their friend. They took turns wearing his Duke ball cap. They also snapped photographs and wrote directions to the hiding places for Alex. The Kalatas took along those instructions -- some detailed, some vague -- when they went. They also armed themselves with a flashlight and a flathead screwdriver.

It was true adventure from the very beginning in London, where Laurie tumbled off the top level of a double-decker bus and Gregg fell off a fountain in Hyde Park as he fished in the murky water for a coin he would not find. They found coins in the Tower of London, beneath a glorious stained-glass window in Canterbury Cathedral and in the ancient Roman baths in Bath. They tracked down coins stashed in wall cracks, behind an altar of golden angels and inside an old World War II tank. "Bittersweet" was how Laurie described their mission.

The Kalatas didn't find all of the coins. It was exhilarating to find one and devastating not to. "It was overwhelming emotionally when we'd find a coin," Gregg said. "We'd just hold each other and weep." The Kalatas had visited several of the sites with Alex several years ago, which made the return trips painfully reminiscent. Still, they pressed on.

Going ‘over the wall’

With such a unique and public escapade, the Kalatas encountered more than a few stares, as well as occasional inquisitive -- and now and then unfriendly -- security officers. Once the Kalatas explained what they were doing, however, most people were receptive and understanding and, in the end, helpful. Which brings us to Simon the waiter.

The Kalatas retired after a long and frustrating day to a bed-and-breakfast in Glastonbury, home of Glastonbury Abbey, site of what is believed to be the oldest above-ground Christian church in the world and where King Arthur is said to be buried. Some believe the Holy Grail may be there, too.

The Kalatas had had tough luck finding coins in previous stops that long day and had arrived in town too late to search for a coin hidden among the abbey ruins. They had an appointment that couldn't be broken the next morning in a town two hours away, so they'd have to leave Glastonbury before the historic site was scheduled to open. They felt depressed.

They ate dinner at the B&B, and their waiter was a nice young guy who was just a little too jovial for the Kalatas' gloomy spirits. After a while, they politely let on as to why they weren't in the mood for much jocularity and told him the whole story.
The waiter left but returned to the Kalatas' table a few minutes later.

"We'll get it tonight," he said of the coin. "We're going over the wall." We're going over the wall. Has quite a ring to it, doesn't it?

So, later that night, as the clock approached midnight, Simon the waiter led the Kalatas into the pitch-black darkness of the ruins. With nothing but small flashlights and extraordinary nerve, the trio scaled a low stone wall, dropped down 10 feet to the grounds below and began their hunt. It took only a few minutes and there, tucked among a pile of stones, not far from a ground marker engraved with "14," representing the journey that Jesus made the day he died on the cross, the Kalatas found the coin.

The couple melted in tears. "We were sobbing," Gregg recalled, "and I went to thank Simon, and he was crying, too. He hugged and kissed us both and then looked at us and said, 'Job well done.'"

An incomplete search

In all, the Kalatas found seven coins. They didn't get to look in a couple of the most far-flung towns, and other hiding places were just too difficult -- such as the canopy over the bed of Mary, Queen of Scots, in Holyrood House, where one of the coins was tossed. As for the others, who knows? Some might have been picked up by passersby; a few in high places might have been blown away by strong winds. Or, in some cases, the Kalatas simply might have looked in the wrong place.

Regardless, a dozen of the hidden "Alex" coins remain unfound in the British Isles. But for the Kalatas, this wasn't simply about finding coins. It was the chance to do something more for Alex. And for themselves.

"We told his story over and over again," Laurie said. "There is nothing that makes it better, but in sharing his story and having so many people be so receptive ... "

Added Gregg, "Maybe someone will hear the story and get the desire and have the means to do research into a cure for leukemia.”
Which brings us to Alex's final moments. With his last strength and breath, he held his parents' hands and told them he was scared. Before he slipped away, Alex pulled them close and whispered, "Tell the world there will be a cure for cancer real soon."

They just did.