Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Quiet

Carol is currently in Georgia enjoying life on Tybee Island. I have some things I need to do at our cabin in the Illinois woodlands. I have told her often in the past that if she died before me I would be a hermit out here. The past week without her has been my test of that claim. Do I miss human contact? Sometimes but honestly most I just miss her. I want to write about the last couple of nights.

Monday night I sat out on the porch for a while just listening. What did I hear? Well usually living near Galesburg and the busy railroad lines I hear the sound of train whistles as they approach and pass through crossings. Monday night there was no sound from another human being. No tires or car noise from someone on our gravel road or the paved county road about a mile away. No sound from airplanes passing overhead. The silence was broken on rare occasion by an owl hooting over to the north in the woods belonging to our neighbor. The sky was clear and the stars shown above. It was lonely and wonderful at the same time. I thought it couldn't get any better.

Tuesday night showed me that I was wrong about Monday. There is something spectacular about nature. Late Tuesday night a thunderstorm blew in. The noise was not human. It was the simple awe inspiring power of this world. There was some thunder but not the type of storm that rattles the windows and shakes you to the depths of your soul. The trees were black against a grey night sky. The wind blew and the rain at times came down in sheets. It was a glorious Midwest thunderstorm. Not the storms we typically see on Tybee Island. Again, with the thunder and the wind bending the trees there wasn't a sound created by another human being. Was it a perfect night? No, because Carol wasn't here with me. We could have been sitting together in silence enjoying the glories this world offers.

So, can I live without other human contact? No. I would rather share those experiences with her. In her absence I would rather experience them alone. So, while we were apart those two nights and many others I can take solace in looking at the night sky and knowing the same stars shine down on both of us. Miles my separate us but the universe will always draw us together.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Circus

I continue to work on scanning my Grandmother's journals. The other day I found this entry from July 1944.

As you can see her journals are a mixture of news and family issues. I was curious about the Hartford Circus fire. It turns out it was one of the worst fire disasters in the history of the United States. It occurred during the afternoon performance of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus. The performance was attended by 6,000 to 8,000 persons. The death toll was 167 with over 700 injured.

The background of the disaster is interesting. It was during World War II so the circus had been experiencing shortages of equipment and personnel. The circus arrived in Hartford on July 5, 1944 but was so late arriving that one of the two scheduled shows had to be cancelled. Circus superstition holds that missing a show is extremely bad luck. The July 5th evening show ran as planned. The next day was Thursday and the afternoon crowd was largely women and children. The fire began as a small flame on the southwest sidewall as the Great Wallendas were performing. The circus band lead by Merle Evans began to play The Stars and Stripes Forever as the tune traditionally signaled distress to the circus performers. Ringmaster Fred Bradna tried to tell the audience not to panic and exit the tent in an orderly fashion. The power had failed and the crowd could not hear him. The crowd was in a panic as they attempted to flee. My Grandmother indicated the fire was caused by a carelessly discarded cigarette. This was the belief at the time. The true cause has never been determined. The fiery tent collapsed within eight minutes trapping hundreds of guests under it. How did that happen so fast? A common waterproofing technique of the time used on this canvas tent was a combination of paraffin wax dissolved in gasoline. In this case 1,800 pounds of paraffin wax had been dissolved in 6,000 gallons of gasoline to waterproof the big top. It is considered possible that the death toll was much higher than the 167 noted above. The fire was so intense that some victims may have been cremated leaving little or no trace. In addition some victims left only body parts and some of the circus performers and workers were drifters who would never be reported as missing.

The circus later reached an agreement with the City of Hartford to accept full financial responsibility and pay whatever amount the city requested in damages. By 1954 the circus had paid out over $5,000,000 to 600 victims and families who had filed claims. It is difficult to imagine what the settlement would look like now.




Monday, July 10, 2017

We Wonder

It is one of the constants of the human condition. People involved in the self help community tell us not to do it. They act like they don't. I cannot accept that is true. We all wonder. What if? We make choices every day. Some aren't very consequential or at least don't seem to be at the time. What to have for lunch? Over the years those choices can add on pounds and clog our arteries. When we drive, which way to turn at a fork in the road. Left or right? We went left. What would or could have happened if we went right? We can never know. When you are young you have dreams. Things you plan to do. Jobs you hope to get. How much money you will earn. The car you will drive. Life has a way of dealing with your dreams. Keeping you awake. You lay in your bed at night, look back at the day and wonder. What if? Why did I make that seemingly harmless smart ass remark? Should I have been kinder with my words or deeds? The unfortunate truth, is that for mankind, time is linear. We move forward constantly. No chance of going back and making a change. Words, once spoken, cannot be unsaid or unheard. We can offer our feeble apologies and vow to do better in the future. We cannot, no matter how much we would like to, go backward in time. I often think about people who die in car accidents. It happens in an instant but it is not isolated from the rest of the victims day. Another sip of coffee. A few more strokes of the toothbrush in the morning. A traffic signal that changes to red a second or two earlier. No accident. They are alive. It was as if a perfect storm erupted that day. No going back. So, we make choices every day. We look back and wonder. What if? The choice we didn't make may, in the long term, be worse than the one we made. Knowing all that we still abuse ourselves with the question. What if? I did that often today. I'll do so again tomorrow. It won't change the outcome. It won't fix any problems. I understand that. It won't change what is going to happen in my head tomorrow.