Oh Death, it Stings
Oregon State Police Photo
There is nothing quite so final as death. Having spent most of my adult life in EMS, I’ve seen too much of it. I’d like to say that I’m numb to it’s wake, but on the contrary, it still hits me hard – sometimes more than others.
I don’t know what it is exactly, but even in the most obscure ways, other people’s deaths can reach out and grab us. Other times, not so much.
As a paramedic, I would often return to the scene of fatal motor vehicle collisions – off-duty – to help process the event that occurred there. I think it has to do with my sense of empathy, I just had to process through the pain, the fear, the panic – the finality of the event.
A few days ago, four teens were killed on their way to the Oregon Coast. I don’t know them, personally, but I feel as if their lives have touched mine. Reading the accounts of the accident brought to mind too many memories of the past. Yesterday I drove to the scene where these four kids were killed. There stood four white crosses with their names; and some flowers.
It was almost 30 years ago that I responded to the worst tragedy of my career. Four teens were driving in Portland‘s Washington Park, when they lost control of their car and hit a tree – a very large fir tree. In the car were two brothers and two sisters – a double date. The two older teens were killed instantly, but it took us well over an hour to extricate the younger siblings from the back seat.
It was a very complicated rescue that involved some very specialized equipment. I was in constant contact with the 17 year old girl through the whole endeavor. I not only supported her body weight, but the emotional toll as she had to see us remove her now dead, and traumatically mangled, sister from the front seat. I lost a little bit of my soul that night.
- Image via Wikipedia
Thirty years ago, my brother was the age of those kids in the Washington Park fatality. Now, my first nephew is the age of the kids that were killed just west of Clatskanie. Sometimes, the images burned into my brain are just too deep to ignore.
I grieve for the families who lost their kids this weekend. I grieve for the families who will lose loved ones in the future.
There is a cost for our auto-centric lifestyle, but sometimes we don’t realize it until it touches us personally.
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Ambient Intimacy
- Image via CrunchBase
I first heard this term a couple of months. It immediately resonated with me, and without even reading this article, I knew what it was about. If you haven’t heard the term, and you’re not a big fan of social-networking, I’d encourage you to go read this post before reading any further.
It’s OK, I’ll wait….. Ambient Intimacy
If you’re really hungry for more, here is an excellent follow-up post: Reboot 9.0 – Ambient Intimacy
The video above became our theme as we built a start-up organization in Colorado a few years ago. With limited resources, limited volunteers, and not enough leadership, we really were building our plane while we flew it. It was an amazing experience – exhausting – but amazing.
Photo by David Boudreau
A couple of days ago, while browsing for a video on YouTube, I stumbled across this old favorite. It made me think about careers, social-networking, friends, and family. Those of you who know me, know that new ideas and new technology excite me. When my budget allows, I am the consummate early adopter. I don’t usually have a lot of friends, but I make friends for life. It is very hard for me to walk away from friendships – whether dictated by time, geography, or circumstances – my dear friends are never far from my heart (even if I haven’t spoken with them in ages).
Because I am not very sanguine, and more than a little introverted, most people don’t know how special my friends are to me. I rarely express these emotions. (I also get choked up and a little teary at sad and sappy movies, but that’s another story for another day) To make a long story short, my family moved a lot when I was a kid, and I’ve lived in five different states over the last 15 years.
There are pieces of my heart spread all over the country.
Much has been written about Facebook, Twitter, blogging, and a host of other great social-networking sites. Let me summarize: These are tools. They are the medium for communication in a new age. Long after the invention of mail, the telegraph and telephone, we now have email and a host of other media for us to connect with one another. It’s not perfect, but then again, neither is our society and culture. There is a lot to be said for living in small, rural villages – when three or four generations shared the same household, one’s extended family lived within walking distance, and everyone was interdependent on their neighbors.
Today’s society is very different than it used to be. The town square and local church do not hold their place in society they once did. We are no longer dependent on our neighbors for our survival, nor are they dependent on us. Nuclear families are drastically different than even 40-50 years ago, and rarely will you find multi-generational households. In fact, extended families are often living far away from each other – we build families where we live, based on personal selection, not biology.
This is where tools like Facebook are proved to be valuable. As the author of the post above so eloquently states, no, it’s not important to hear what you had for breakfast, or that your kids are being unruly today, but as I follow your life from a distance, there is a certain intimacy that is regained in our relationship. Ambient, yes, but intimate nonetheless.
Over the last year or so that I have been involved on Facebook, I have reconnected with dozens of friends that I haven’t seen in awhile. I generally know how they are doing – more so than I did last year. Yes, following their posts online is not as good as a nice two-hour phone call, but who has time for that (which is probably why we never call)? That two-hour phone call isn’t as good as a weekend visit either – and neither of those will ever replace the times we worked or lived side-by-side – back in the day! Still, we remain connected.
Photo by Marco Bernardini
Yesterday, two friends posted something on Facebook that made me sit up and take notice. One of those friends I barely know in real life. In fact, our friendship has grown during our interactions online. Because of that friendship, because I follow his life from afar, I was able to send a brief note of encouragement. My other friend, whom I’ve also not spoken to in ages, was definitely experiencing some life-changing issues. I sent him a note, he emailed back, and this morning we spoke on the phone. And because of our constant contact online, our phone call immediately went deep and real. But without the medium of online social media, I would have missed out on a couple of significant connections.
When I surf through posts on Facebook, when I read your tweets on Twitter, and when I browse you photos on Flickr, or Picasa, I am connecting with you. It is real, it is interactive, and it is personal. When I read your blog post about your dog eating rat poison, and then you mistakenly give him ipecac, I empathize – whether I respond or not. When we get together, and I ask you, “How’s it going?” We don’t have to talk about your dog, the Canadian vacation you just took, or the book your editing – in the Queen’s English no less!
Instead, we can talk about how you’re really doing.
Photo by Christian Guthier
Yes, it’s only ambient – but it is still intimate. If that’s all we can get, that’s fine. It’s better than nothing. Besides, we’re still building this plane, none of us really have it figured out. At least it’s still in the air. Let’s keep building and working on it. Share your tricks and tips with me, and I’ll share with you. (Twitter has a bunch of cool third-party tools that make it manageable, and Facebook has some really nifty filters and tricks to make it really easy to keep track of your folks.)
A couple of months ago I found a childhood friend on Facebook. Her family was really close to ours when we were growing up. My first crush was on her sister – who was also my first kiss. They used to live on SE Yamhill St, around the block from us, near Mt. Tabor. It was really fun to “friend” her, catch-up a little, see photos of her kids, etc. In fact, my heart skipped a little beat when I first saw her photo. “The melancholy runs deep in this one,” Obiwan once said. A month or two later, I connected with her sister, we exchanged a couple of messages, and then we moved on. It was just nice.
It is nice to know that someone who is a part of you, a part of your past, a part of your history, and a significant part of your coming of age – well, it’s just nice to know that they are alive and well. This is why I like the ambient intimacy of social-networking. (Even if we are still trying to build it, at least it’s flying!)
Confessing my Dad Attitude 