“A long long time ago, I can still remember …”
Buddy Guy taught me how to fight for my dreams. Johnny Cash taught me how to live a full life. Muhammad Ali taught me how to stand up for what I believe in, and be true to myself.
If you don’t understand this, go and read about how these gentleman have pursued life, and the obstacles they conquered.
View of the Twin Towers site from in front of the Flatiron Building at noon on 911.
There were two decisions I made that saved my life (and my wife’s as well) on September 11th, 2001. We had planned a trip to New York City so we could see various sites and I could photograph them. Of particular interest was the newly restored Grand Central Terminal, and the Twin Towers of The World Trade Center. Having grown up in and around New York City, it was always good to go back and visit periodically; lot’s of good memories in and around the city.
My wife had made reservations for us to stay at The Marriott World Trade Center, at 3 World Trade Center, with the towers rising above it. She thought this would be a great idea. I, however, did not want to stay in the financial district. Previously, we had stayed at the Grand Hyatt New York, on East 42nd St, approximately 2 blocks from Grand Central Terminal. I liked the surrounding area there, and the fact that when you walked outside, the Chrysler Building rose right in front of you in all it’s Art Deco glory. As things turned out, the Marriott World Trade Center was destroyed when both towers fell on it in turn: Falling first, the South Tower split the hotel in two, and then later, the North Tower destroyed the remnants of the hotel except a small section in which 14 people survived. (They only survived because that particular section had been reinforced after the 1993 bombing at the World Trade Center.)
That Tuesday morning clear; a beautiful blue sky, and not overly warm. We were excited about visiting Grand Central Terminal in particular because they had recently completed the restoration project that Jacqueline Kennedy had been deeply involved in, and they did an astounding job. About two weeks before the visit, I had contacted the Operations Manager of the terminal and told him I was going to photograph the building for a possible showing I had wanted to do. He was very gracious about the whole thing and said to find him when we got there and he would give us a tour! (My apologies, but his name escapes me now.) So the plan was to shoot the photos at the terminal on our little tour, hop a train, and head to the Twin Towers observation deck to get some panoramic skyline shots.
When we arrived at Grand Central Terminal, we located the Operations Manager who gave a really extensive tour, including areas not accessible to the public. One of these areas was a catwalk up above the main lobby. The walls were made of marble and the floor was made of 10″ thick quartz. On the left wall, the window opened to Vanderbilt Ave and on the right wall, the window opened to the beautiful lobby we are all so familiar with.
So having finished photographing the building, I decided we would drop by our hotel room real quick and download the images to my laptop so my memory card would be empty. (Remember: This was 2001 when 4GB and 8GB compact flash cards were not generally available.) Upon exiting the terminal, a passer-by asked if we had heard that “a plane just hit the World Trade Center.” So we are thinking, a Cessna or some small type plane must have hit it. When we got to our room, we promptly turned on the TV and saw that it was a jumbo jet and I looked at my wife and said: “This is an attack.” We sat there in disbelief. As we are watching this, the second plane hits the South Tower. Now consider that we are in a hotel room, but I swear you could almost hear the collective sigh and gasp of the city’s people when that plane hit the building. It was almost as if time itself had stopped. Had I not stopped to download my memory card, we would have either been in the elevator on our way up to the observation deck or just stepping out on to it.
Like everyone else, we sat and watched as events unfolded in stunned anger and amazement. As I sit and write this, 11 years later, I am crying, even now. Having grown up in the area, I have many memories of The World Trade Center. There were gatherings of friends on the observation deck; time spent at Windows On The World; shopping in the vast underground station and “Mall” at the World Trade Center. I remember when I was a child, driving past the immense holes being dug that eventually became the “bath-tubs” that keep the water out. We took dates up to the roof for a kiss and maybe a picnic (yes … a picnic … and that usually went over well, even with having to fight the wind). It was as if our heart was being ripped out.
Later on, we eventually found a place to grab some Chinese food and then went uptown. The whole scene on the street was surreal. Military jets overhead. Because the police, firefighters, etc. were all at or headed to Ground Zero, Auxiliary Police, academy cadets, and National Guard had been dispersed and were all over. Everyone was shocked, concerned, and dazed. After walking around a little, we went back to our room and spent the rest of the day just watching the TV.
So, was it fate or divine intervention that we were not killed that day? Whatever the explanation, I often think about how fortunate we are compared to so many others. It has definitely given us a different perspective on life: what’s important and what is not.
*** As you may have noticed, I have been absent for a while here. Not to worry, all is well! I just elected to step away and take care of some other pressing matters that needed attention in one form or another. So, I am back. Thanks for visiting here with us. ***
I have noticed that lately, every time I turn on the TV, some media outlet is telling me that “so and so is a hero.” Possibly this has been going on for a while, and I am just now noticing? There are reasons that I am not having any of this. First of all, when did we relinquish our perception, our moral standard(s), and our choice to the great void out there that is “The Media,” including so-called Social Media? Secondly, the entities that are held up as heroes today are, for the most part, “the flavor of the week.” Whatever is being pushed down the public’s throat by someone’s agenda, whether that agenda is political, financial, religious, and/or corporate, somewhere in that agenda resides a genuine “hero” by golly!
In my mind, Johnny Cash was a hero. He stuck to his guns and advocated for the prison population at a time when doing so was very unpopular. (It still is!) He fought his way back from the bottom that comes with the self-destructive behavior that often accompanies addiction. He rebuilt his life from the bottom up. He fought for the love he wanted in his life, even though he had to win her back. Although he was not a perfect man, he was an empathetic, giving, humble man.
I have a friend who is a musician. He used to play guitar, and then he was injured in an accident and can’t play anymore due to lessened mobility in his arms. Although he is now in a wheelchair, he rebuilt his his career playing harmonica. He does as many live performances as he can. This past spring he was nominated by his peers for the Best New Artist CD Blues Music Award. That is someone that doesn’t let life get him down. My friend triumphed in the face of adversity. He is a hero.
Helped fund treatment for a friend or donated an organ to save a life? You are a hero!
To me, a single mother who works two jobs, goes to school, and still finds time to guide and raise decent human beings is a hero.
To me, every soldier that fights for our country, and returns to a mostly indifferent nation, is a hero.
To me, Mohammed Ali is a hero. He stood up for his convictions, even when it cost him the Heavyweight Championship. He took his case to the Supreme Court, and won.
To me, people that stand up for what they believe are heroes:
People that advocate for a Woman’s Right To Choose
People that advocate for Voting Rights for all
People that advocate for Marriage Rights for all
People that advocate for those that are less fortunate than themselves
The teachers in Newtown, CT that sacrificed themselves to save their students from an insane gunman are heroes
Mothers, Fathers, and caregivers who go to work each day, hating their jobs, working long hours for dismal pay, trying to meet their responsibilities at home and pay for schooling to advance in life – they are heroes.
People that advocate hate are NOT heroes.
Politicians that disregard the poorest among us are not heroes.
Those who endeavor to treat women as second class citizens by paying them less than men for the same work, limiting their access to health care and birth control, and forcing them to have unnecessary medical procedures prior to obtaining medical care, are NOT heroes.
I am a firm believer in “I can’t describe it, but I know it when I see it.”
Underneath all the bluster, social media, and BS, we all know who the real heroes are.
One key to a good recovery is freedom from our past.
We can take experience gained and lessons learned, and file them away.
If we have some good memories in the past, we can file those away as well.
What we can not do, and should not do, is constantly second guess ourselves about decisions we made.
What’s done is done, and if amends are required (and possible without causing harm to others), we should attend to that when we are ready to do so.
As people in recovery, we have a tendency to beat ourselves up over past mistakes, which really serves no purpose.
If we live in our past constantly, how the hell can we expect to move forward in our lives and grow in our recovery?
We can not let fear and/or the voices of our own demons and detractors (or abusers) keep us mired in things we can not change.
Letting go does not mean we have forgotten; it does not mean we don’t care.
Letting go means we are growing, evolving, and moving on.
Hopefully, we are making progress.
Have you learned to let go yet, or are you still coddling your past?
Standing Your Ground
For those who have not experienced addiction, it is hard to understand why a person can not simply “say no,” or “stop” their addictive behavior when they choose to do so. To a person who has not experienced the struggle of addiction, stopping is just “a matter of willpower.” I can not tell you how many times I have heard this. If only it were that easy.
Even if the addicted individual could just stop, they would not, simply because they fail to see the real cause of their difficulties. It is not the booze, drugs, sexual liaisons gambling, etc. that is the problem; no, these things are relief from the real problem(s). In their addiction afflicted mind, the real problem is the boss at work, the wife at home, the troublesome kid in school, the multitude of people that “do not understand” them. The universe is against them. The world is out to get them.
AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) does not call alcoholism a “cunning and baffling” disease without reason. Addiction is one of the few diseases (maybe the only one) that actually tries to talk its captives into staying addicted until they lose their mind, go to jail, or die. Loosing jobs, family, homes, status, money doesn’t matter because the disease convinces us it is not the addicted person’s fault. The goal is triumph of the addiction over the soul of the afflicted; the ultimate result of this is death. This scenario can be applied to alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex addiction, and many more addictions.
What makes addiction unique among diseases is that the addicted is the major catalyst for their own recovery and sustainability. They have to fight every day to succeed in staying clean/sober, etc. I was told more than a few times in the rooms of recovery that “For every 10 drunks out there, 1 makes it to the rooms of AA. For every 10 of these, 1 will stay sober for five years.” That is some scary stuff.
If someone wants recovery, they have to work at it … really hard … every day. Every day we are in recovery, we are basically granted a reprieve from our disease, for that day. The next day, we start all over again. If the work required of each individual for their successful recovery is not done, every day, the foundation of that recovery will erode and become unstable. Remember: Our disease is “cunning and baffling.” Our disease waits for these opportunities to undermine our progress in recovery.
So it is that we must stand our ground, and fight every day for our recovery. Sometimes, even in recovery, we are still going to have hard days. Some days will even be downright shitty. Life does not stop because we choose recovery. The assholes of the world are not going to stop being assholes. How we deal with all that is what makes recovery the better option for us. If we want to live, and have a chance for a better life, then we must fight the demons of our addiction(s), against the overwhelming odds that face us. Some of us will even succeed.