NOTE: These are my views, memories, perceptions and observations. True to form they are wordy, long winded and more like going around my ass to get to my elbow than anything else. Should you chose to read this completely...thank you! For those of you like myself with ADD and wont be able to read it completely...It was COOL, very COOL...good time had by all, wish you where there!
X-posted: Fornits & Yahoo
The evening went as follows:
6:01pm...Late again, I always hate to be late. I remove my seatbelt, grab up the inncense. the water, the flashlight, the photograph...oh and the weed!
I begin to stroll thru the parking lot of the Gulf Pier at Fort Desoto. God, alot of people...they are all carrying fishing poles. I pass a group of people...could it be "them"....dont wannna take a chance....maybe they are just talking before they get thier fishing gear from the trunk of thier vehicle....
I feel like a lost soul as I make my way down the pier. I see families and friends chit chatting as they bend over the railing, gazing into the choppy water below, no doubt wating for that big snook or sheep head.
Reaching the end of the pier, a part of me seemed to fold. Nothing but people clutching thier fishing poles and paying no mind to thier chidren running about the pier...No candle light, no alter, no flowers, no privacy. After all, this is a memorial, no room for a calloused group of fisherman peering into private memories.
Perhaps others attending thought, "what the hell, might as well go fishing after the memorial"....
More than likely, no one showed up...Ok, maybe I missed it....they read the list and spilt. Every other event I have attended there were only few people that actually showed up. Unlike those other events however, this was for the fallen and probably more important it was for those of us still above ground, sucking up oxygen...the walking wounded.
Fisherman exchanged eye glances as I made my way back to the parking lot...how pathetic I must appear. Surely my eyes express what I feel, and most assuredly they sense I am no fisherman...once again a feeling of "I DON'T BELONG" clings to me
like that cast net just thrown over the pier.
I am approached by a woman who says, "Excuse me...this may sound very strange"...I held up my hand to stop her, there was no need for her to continue. We made our way back to the where the pier an the parking lot met. While we waited for her significant other and yet another lost soul that had made the journey, a feeling of awkwardness swept over me...maybe it was just me, so i kept quiet and let her talk.
As I swam around in my awkwardness I heard the words...."You just don't understand what it was like..." At that point something clicked and snapped me from my internal dialogue...."Oh,but I do understand"... Her eyes went vacant for a moment or two...then a glint in her eye, then finally a smile and she said, "Yes, you would
understand also"
This lady had only investigated her past via Google just in the past few months, how overwhelming it must be for her...it was for me. She clearly favored the yahoo site over the fornit site and she had her reasons why, which made perfect sense to me. I perfer fornits for my reasons...which also makes perfect sense to me.
Her significant other and the the third "lost soul" approached us and we all introduced ourselves...shaking hands, giving our names and our respective monikers we carried here on the boards.
We all were in Straight at different times, I was the oldest, my intake was 1/21/78...much of the abuse they endured, I avoided. I was in Straight in the pre-Miller Newton days. I knew him only briefly...he was coming in, just as I was about to graduate. It was clear to me how Straight could become so violent and appaling under the Newtonian Administration. There had already been laid this foundation of HATE, FEAR and DISTRUST. So extreme abuse and violence was not a far stretch, certainly it was no crowning achievement for Miller...he simply exacerbated the situation. I hope not to give the impression that there was not plenty of ass kicking during my time, but I think it was no where near what took place later in intensity, frequency, tolerance and out right promotion of it!
Of the four of us there, I was most intriged by the self proclaimed "outsider", who only in the past few months had learned about not only our plight, but his loved one's as well. As our conversation bounced from one incident to the next, his eyes
revealed the disbelief....not that he doubted our stories....but how could this have happened? No doubt in my mind she experienced a sense of "See, I am not exagerating...it really did happen".
It was encouraging to see his concern for her, it was good to see that she experienced some affirmation or maybe, validation...there and here on the boards. A healing I think has begun...sacred!
Thinking of this event, I did not really view it as a memorial. The fallens names were not read and only a few were even mentioned. There was no wreath or flowers. The incense I brought was not even lit...the weed wasn't smoked untill I sat down here at the keyboard. I dont wish to imply that I have extensive experiences in the memorial game...I dont. For all the time, heart, thought and efforts that folks put into this event promoting it as a "gathering" may have brought more folks together.
In that small gathering last night, I believe that un-measurable healing, as well as understanding took place tween the four of us. Yet it was only for the four of us...because no one else gives a fuck. Sure others may or may not "listen" or even want to hear our stories. Even our own kind had times when we didnt want to hear
or discuss it. So the healing will ultimately have to be tween my own two ears because really...no one gives a fuck. Thats not to say that being with two complete strangers to me with only Straight as a commonality wasnt remarkable, it was! It was insightfull! It was funny...at one point I noticed we were so engrossed in conversation that we all spoke and continued to speak at the same time...seemingly oblivious to those incessant fishermen walking by, carrying thier poles with thier kids in tow.
Modesty and the need for privacy faded quickly. We stood in the same spot for four and a half hours, that spot was right in the path of the entrance ramp to the pier (so not to be missed)...I guess some how we all thought or felt that no one gives a fuck. Not one person in the several hundred that passed us stopped to inquire what we were doing and our talking about...fishing is more important to them than Straight...maybe one day fishing will have a greater impact on me than Straight did.
Shout Out to Dragon Fly. I thought it was a great idea. Although few in numbers,last night proved it was a great idea...Great Ideas can't be measured in numbers and thier benefits can't be describe in words.
I am looking forward to next year's memorial!
Namaste
