WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE: Part One

"I believe we are a species with amnesia, I think we have forgotten our roots and our origins. I think we are quite lost in many ways. And we live in a society that invests huge amounts of money and vast quantities of energy in ensuring that we all stay lost. A society that invests in creating unconsciousness, which invests in keeping people asleep so that we are just passive consumers or products and not really asking any of the questions."

~ Graham Hancock

Ticking away the moments 

That make up a dull day 

Fritter and waste the hours 

In an off-hand way 

~Time~Pink Floyd

Years ago, when my kids were much younger and fewer in number, I took them to a local fair. It was a very small ordeal with few attractions, but the perfect sort with which to distract those under the age of ten. You know the type, a couple of concession stands, some games, a pony and a handful of small scale amusement rides. The exact type of fair that disaffected, Ipod toting, braces-laced teenagers would rather have to shove rusty razor blades into their eyeballs then be forced to attend. So again, for my needs, perfect.

The main attraction was a giant, inflatable bouncy-bounce, or jumpy-jump. I would imagine the whimsical names associated with these things vary around the country. For the uninitiated, they are large inflatable vinyl structures that kids can jump and bounce around on with reckless abandon. This particular one was fairly large. It stood nearly twenty feet tall and towered over the Thomas The Tank Engine train ride that meandered around a small circular track next to this monstrosity.

Children ran maniacally up the back side of the rubber mountain to slide or tumble down the front in an endless conga line of the type of fun that only the very young can have. As I drew closer, I realized the bouncy-bounce wasn't a mountain at all. It was actually a ship. It had been crafted to look like an ocean liner with it's stern tipped way up into the air and it's bow plunged into the murky depths of what was the grassy field of our local township's police station. As kids careened down it's deck, bouncing and slamming off it's smoke stacks I realized that it was a crude, yet unmistakable recreation of the H.M.S. Titanic, forever frozen in her final death plunge into the icy Atlantic deep.

Watery grave simulating kiddie ride

 Standing there on this picture perfect, brilliantly cloudless day, drenched in the cacophony of noise generated by the high pitched screams and laughs of enthralled snot-nosed rug-rats, I had a very odd thought. It struck me that this ride was wildly inappropriate, or at least, that it would have been not that long ago. The impetus behind that thought was the memory of another picture perfect, brilliantly cloudless day just a few years before. A day that would forever change the American way of life and scar the hearts of it's citizens, Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

Half as many people died in the frigid waters of the Atlantic when the Titanic sank as did in downtown Manhattan when the towers fell, yet in their own time each had the same impact in terms of shock and anguish over the suffering and senseless loss of human life. While  we remain emotionally tethered to the events of 9/11, the water of time coursing under the bridge of history has eroded the degree of emotion that we hold in our hearts for the Titanic.

Millvina Dean, the last living survivor of the Titanic, who was just two months old when the ship hit an iceberg about 400 miles south of Newfoundland, died in her sleep in 2009 at the age of 97. It is perhaps fitting that someone who, against all odds had escaped almost certain death at a very young age, went on to live a long life. One of 706 survivors, she died in Southampton, England, the city that her family had meant to leave behind for a new life in America.

Millvina Dean

Millvina's family was never meant to be on the Titanic, but due to a coal strike they were transferred from another ship. When the Titanic hit the iceberg, Millvina's father, who was apparently unconvinced of the ship's "practically unsinkable" status, rushed his family from their third-class quarters below deck to the lifeboats immediately. It was a move that most assuredly saved Millvina's life as there were not enough lifeboats to accommodate all the passengers on board. Swaddled in a sack, she was lowered along with her two year old brother and mother into lifeboat number 13. Her father told her mother goodbye and that he would "be along later." Her brother and mother survived along with Millvina, but they never saw her father again.

Millvina and her brother Bertram

Millvina obviously had no memories of the tragedy. She had no idea that she was even on the Titanic until she was eight years old, when her mother, who was about to remarry, explained to her how her father had died. She would tell the press in 1997 that she not only had no memories of the sinking, but indicated by saying, "I wouldn't want to remember, really" that it was exactly how she preferred it. The last surviving person who had memories of the event was Lillian Asplund, who was five years old at the time. She died in 2006 at the age of 99. The chance of there being any one alive today with strong emotional ties to the Titanic is unlikely. At least, no one who would take umbrage with the watery grave simulating kiddie ride that stood before me.

 So why did I care? The Titanic sank in 1912. I was born in 1966, and as far as I know, I am not related to any of the lost souls of the Titanic. The truth was, I really didn't care. In my head though, I played a little mind game. I wondered just how far down the stream of time, past the Titanic and through the land of "Tragedy Themed Bouncy-Bounces" you would have to go before people actually did begin to care. How about you play with me now? I should think we would need only to paddle a few short decades. Imagine that we we have now arrived at the "USS Arizona Bouncy-bounce." Any one offended yet? I bet there are still a few old timers around that wouldn't appreciate this ride. Paddling on then. Hey, would anyone care to disembark at the "Auschwitz Bouncy-bounce?" You probably get the point by now.

 I just couldn't help but wonder, how much time would have to pass before a "Twin Towers Bouncy-bounce" wouldn't be obscene? You may think it will never be appropriate, and you're right of course, but there will definitely be a time in the future, providing this country and/or planet has one, that the level of emotions tied to 9/11 will be so diminished, that literally no one will care.

It's not what you think, or is it?

 I'm writing this in early June of 2013, and if you are reading it shortly after I post it then you are probably aware of the Boston Marathon bombing. Perhaps you just felt your body temperature rise slightly, especially if you know, or are related to anyone injured or killed in this tragic event. you might be thinking, "I hope this guy doesn't make a joke about this. It's too soon!" Don't worry, I just wanted to make a point about suffering and senseless loss of human life, and I don't plan on mentioning it here again. Why? Because it is too soon.

 I lost a good friend and neighbor on 9/11. He was on the 105th floor of the One World Trade Center building. He was murdered because someone's belief in an invisible man in the sky compelled them to hijack a plane full of people and crash it into his office. Again, suffering and senseless loss of human life. I will not mention his name because even after twelve years, I wouldn't want to upset his family. There just hasn't been enough water under the bridge for me to take that liberty yet, and there may never be. I can tell you with all certainty that there will never be a point in my life where I wouldn't be offended by a 9/11 themed amusement ride.

 Recently, my wife and I were fortunate enough to get a chance to visit the Titanic Artifact Exhibition that is making it's way around the country. It was launched last year to commemorate the 100th year anniversary of the event. I've always been fascinated by the tragic tale of the Titanic. They say every disaster is a small series of mistakes and misfortunes. She had plenty of both. (The Titanic, not my wife. unless of course, you count me.) The exhibit is amazing. The condition of a lot of the items brought up was unbelievable. Some of them look brand new while most are far worse for the wear of sea water, depth pressure and of course, time.

Ticket to ride.

When you enter the exhibit, they give you a boarding pass. However, it's not your name that appears on it, but the actual name of and personal information of one of the passengers on board the Titanic when it sank. My wife was Dr. Alice Leader, age 49 from New York. She was accompanied by a friend named Frederick J. Smith. While Alice had practiced pediatric medicine, she had no children of her own. Like Millvina's family, Alice had boarded the Titanic in Southampton. Having retired from her medical practice in Lewiston, Maine, after the death of her husband in 1908, Alice was returning from a holiday in Europe.

Dr. Alice Leader

 I was representing Sir Cosmo Edmund Duff Gordon, aged 49 who lived in both London England and Paris France. He was accompanied by his wife, Lady Duff Gordon and her secretary, Laura M. Francatelli. Sir Cosmo's wife owned "Madame Lucille" a high end fashion boutique with stores in Paris, London, Chicago, and New York. They were traveling to New York because Lady Duff Gordon had urgent business there to attend to. She usually traveled alone, but Cosmo chose to join her on this trip. Cosmo was a proficient fencer and represented Great Britain in the 1908 Olympics. The Olympics were originally supposed to be held in Rome, but were relocated to London due to a disastrous eruption of Mt. Vesuvius.

Sir Cosmo

Lady Duff

 I can't say enough about how interesting the exhibit is and highly recommend it to anyone who is even remotely interested in the Titanic. There is an unexpected, strong emotional feeling when looking at the personal belongings of people who for many, saw the trip as a journey to a new life. I don't know why, but ever since I was very young I wondered what it would be like to hold or at least touch something from the Titanic. Much to my surprise I was able to do just that. In a glass display there is a wooden stanchion, or bracket from the ship. You are allowed to reach your fingers through a small hole in the glass and feel it. It was a very unique piece of history to be able to touch. Yet, what touched me more was what waited at the end of the exhibit.

 There was a large passenger manifest on the wall. All the names of those who were aboard the Titanic were arranged by the class that they had traveled in with a notation next to their name about whether they had lived or died. Cosmo and Alice had been traveling in first class. I knew that we had a greater chance of surviving because of these arrangements. Those traveling in steerage had less favorable odds. Yet, I still had this strange sense of dread as I scanned the board for our names.

 As it turns out, we lived. The strange sense of dread I had just experienced had just been replaced with an equally odd sense of relief. Then I started to think about the idea of what we had just done.While the museum exhibit handled this process very respectfully, it was still a bit macabre. Let's do that small shift in time again. Let's let a little more water flow under that bridge. Now imagine you are holding a time clock punch card with the name of an employee of Cantor Fitzgerald at a 9/11 exhibit and suddenly, it's a bit more morbid. In fact, it's pretty damned creepy.

 There is no denying that this type of exhibit can be done respectfully and actually have a positive impact, if only to make us keenly aware of our past mistakes. Witness the U.S. Holocaust Museum in New York City where there is a room filled just with the shoes of death camp victims. Hundreds of them are baby shoes. You probably don't need to see it in order to understand that genocide is a bad idea, but it doesn't hurt to perturb your emotions in such a way as to "Never Forget."

 Our emotional perspective of large horrific events in time seem to bend and curve, like light effected by great mass in space. They become distorted as well as diminished. In debates with Christian apologists I will often bring up the Albigensian Crusades, which were launched by Pope Innocent III, and which claimed the lives of an estimate 1,000,000 people in a 20 year slaughter over differing opinions about an invisible man in the sky.

No, It's not Jerry Seinfeld. It's Pope "Not so" Innocent III

In short, the campaign was meant to drive out the Cathars, who were deemed 'heretics' from the Langue doc region in Southern France. One of the more famous slaughters was the attack on Beziers in 1209. Crusaders were told that the entire city was inhabited by agents of Satan, and therefore needed to be destroyed. To sum up briefly, almost every man, woman and child was viciously murdered. Even those that took refuge in churches were burnt alive in them. Concerned that they might kill Catholics the crusaders appealed to the Abbot Arnaud Amuary, who was a papal legate. His answer might be familiar to you. Perhaps you've seen his most famous quote, somewhat distorted itself, on a tee-shirt or tattoo or in war movie, "Kill them all and let God sort them out!"

 What this "Holy man" actually said was, "Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius." (Kill them all, for the Lord knoweth them that are his.) Whatever it is he said or did not say, and whether they were Catholic or Cathar, somewhere between 7,000 and 20,000 of them where butchered in that particular siege. So what do the Apologists say? "That was a long time ago." seems to be the most often repeated explanation. That and, "It was God's will." As if the passage of time and blessings of a make-believe person somehow lessen the suffering and senseless loss of human life. One of the most famous Jews to ever live, no, not Jesus, but Albert Einstein, taught us that time is relevant to the observer. It would appear that there is an emotional constant that is effected by the fourth dimension as well.

This concludes the end of Part One. Please reading continue in WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE: Part Two.

Until then, may Zeus preserve you and Sapere aude!