Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Rainy night, the prelude to the last story

It was 2000, November I think I was in Portland, staying at a friends house, there on business. Evening, maybe around eight, I took a walk from her house around the neighborhood in SE Portland. Raining, like much of the winter in the Northwest, a light rain, but constant.






A half hour later, walking along in my gortex hood I was lost in thought. Work, the project ahead up on the hill, the kids, life. Dim light, the streetlights on the corners near gone by the middle of the block. Walking, looking down.

The next happens in time measured by milliseconds, or in a lifetime. Depends. As I walked, looking down a branch across the sidewalk appeared. Four or so inches off the concrete, straight across. My foot moved toward it, 6 inches away, swinging forward in a stride.

The sidewalk wasn't concrete, it wasn't a sidewalk. It was a path through the jungle. The branch wasn't a branch, it was a wire.

As my shoe continued on it's journey to the branch, time changed. It was no longer 2000, and I wasn't planning on how to exploit the upcoming worry about what would happen to medical computers. It was 1967, and my foot was about to hit a wire that would trigger a mine.

A quarter-second passed, my foot nearing the wire, and I went over in my mind what would happen next: The mine would go off, my lower legs would be gone if I was lucky.

The thing was, I couldn't stop my leg from moving, my foot from completing the journey.

As it hit the wire I knew I was gone. All was lost. Despair I'd never felt before, all the things I thought I'd do (knew I did do) were gone.

I walked on, the rain still falling.

Then I remembered the boy, losing his legs, then his life. The nurse who helped him with the process, made his passage easier.

The next morning I was in my best Nordstrom's suit up on the hill, shaking hands with a primary investigator of a study. In my mind, tucked away, was the memory of Karen, and all she did.

16 comments:

  1. Wow. That was awesome. And no spiders, which was nice. i'm still thinking about that jungle.

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    1. The jungle metaphorically? I suspect it's out there for all of us, one way or another.
      And yes, spiders are to be avoided.

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  2. My comment from 9/27 stands: A room full of heroes, tremendous misfortune and Navy nurse Karen. A strange time in American history with a persistent influence on our minds.

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  3. Thanks for this, Mike. It helps.

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  4. Mike, as I may have said before, you have a talent.

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  5. It seems no matter how "civilized" we become man's inhumanity to man will never go away.

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  6. You are haunted, my friend, yet you have overcome it, mostly. Good for you.

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  7. We were talking this afternoon about the wars of last century in particular, how they were watershed events in people's lives. While many didn't make it home, many returned maimed - changed forever either in body or mind, usually both.

    Now there's a generation nearly grown who have always lived in a country at war. It makes me sad, as I'm sure it does you as well.

    You do write wonderfully well, Mike.

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  8. Thank you all for your comments. I promise the next post will be back to the 'norm', if not downright mundane.

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  9. Chilling and scary. You are really good at transferring memories from brain to paper. I know that somebody is talented, when I feel what they are writing.
    This was really good...

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    1. You might be the only one here that understands. Pat, it was so fucking real, that 1/10th of that second that my foot touched the branch. I knew I was gone, adios. I had and have no way of processing that moment, and hopefully won't have another. But just for that split-second, it was all back. I don't care for another.

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    2. I certainly do understand. There are triggers out there, just waiting to tie into a memory or old feeling. My trigger is any threat, or perceived threat. I almost immediately disassociate and do something about it. I've worked on it (with plenty of professional help) for years and now react in more normal way.

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    3. I'm not crazy or anything, I promise!

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    4. no, you are not nuts. you're the guy I'd want on my six if I were back there. I was in a firefight on marble mountain once, had an arvn right behind me. I was tempted, seriously, to do him first. I trusted few there, all marines.

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