The day finally came. Over the past few weeks Mr. Lowe and I had become quite good friends. His stories always enraptured me and my company actually helped him he told me once. With each story I lived his life through his eyes and each one made me see something in myself. I got to where I would look forward to work for once. One night however, I walked in to see his bed empty. I didn't even need to ask what happened, because an empty bed around here always means the same thing.
His funeral was a small one. His will had set up his wishes and his belonging, the few he had, were donated to various charities. I was the only person in attendance. The crisp winter air licked my nose while the preacher spoke of the usual things. I stood there in awe, but not at the words. It was at the man leaving us. He was a great man who had done great things. His body was now gone but his spirit lived free, and I could feel him there. With his hand on my shoulder, I said my goodbyes as the Earth took him into its eternal embrace. Never will I forget this man, nor what he has done to me. Rest in peace Robert Lowe.
Monday, December 7, 2009
A War Worth Fighting (Robert Lowe)
I had just completed my nightly rounds when I glanced into Robert's room. He was awake in his bed just staring at the ceiling.
"Hey Mr. Lowe, how ya feeling?"
"Like a thousand pennies. Heavy as hell and not worth a damn." I laughed. It amazed me that even with how grim things looked he still had a sense of humor.
"Well I think we could get a bit more than ten bucks outta ya." He smiled before waving his hand at me. I looked at him solemnly for a moment. "Mr. Lowe, I wanted to ask you... how can you be so fearless in a time like this?"
"What, you mean being sick?"
"Yes. I think if I were told I was dying I'd be pretty upset."
"Well, when you've seen true courage, you realize just how small of a thing dying can be..."
It was 1917 and I, being a headstrong young man, felt it neccessary to help our neighbors across the sea. I joined the military and sure enough President Wilson had us sent over. The first few weeks was relatively peaceful, but when the fighting came, it came hard. I was stationed in Austria-Hungary. When we arrived the fighting had already begun. Our English comrades were peppering the German lines with grenades and shots as they prepared for a run. The last group to try and cross No Man's Land fell about half way through leaving a bloody line marking mid-field.
"Men get ready! You're the freshest we got so get ready to move!" The general yelled over the gun fire. I looked over the walls to see two rows of Germans making a move toward us, and saw the next second when they all stopped crawling at about the same point as our crew.
"When you go, crawl! Makes a smaller target even if it is slower!" I was practicaly shaking in my boots as we lined up ready to go. The Machine gunner prepared his gun to give us a few minutes of cover while we made our way across.
"Alright boys! Three two one... GO!" At his word we jumped from our places guns in hand and rolled onto the dirt. The machine gun fire behind silenced the German fire for a bit, but only until it reloaded. Next thing we saw was rows of German barrells pointed our direction. The gunfire fell upon us like a metal hail storm as we crawled forward. A shot hit the two men beside me. I was scared so much that I jumped from my position, just to be hit in the leg. I fell over onto the ground and lay still, hoping that a stray shot didn't come over to hit me. I lay there for what seemed like forever when I felt a hand grab my jacket and start pulling me to safety. Next thing I knew I was thrown into the trench and stared at my saviors sillouette as he rushed back out to get whoever else was left.
Hours later as I layed in the medic tent I found out that the man had been General Kufeir. I also found out that he had died from multiple shots he had aquired during his resuce of five men. I remained at war till it was over, and now I look back and see that it was all to make his sacrafice not in vain...
"Hey Mr. Lowe, how ya feeling?"
"Like a thousand pennies. Heavy as hell and not worth a damn." I laughed. It amazed me that even with how grim things looked he still had a sense of humor.
"Well I think we could get a bit more than ten bucks outta ya." He smiled before waving his hand at me. I looked at him solemnly for a moment. "Mr. Lowe, I wanted to ask you... how can you be so fearless in a time like this?"
"What, you mean being sick?"
"Yes. I think if I were told I was dying I'd be pretty upset."
"Well, when you've seen true courage, you realize just how small of a thing dying can be..."
It was 1917 and I, being a headstrong young man, felt it neccessary to help our neighbors across the sea. I joined the military and sure enough President Wilson had us sent over. The first few weeks was relatively peaceful, but when the fighting came, it came hard. I was stationed in Austria-Hungary. When we arrived the fighting had already begun. Our English comrades were peppering the German lines with grenades and shots as they prepared for a run. The last group to try and cross No Man's Land fell about half way through leaving a bloody line marking mid-field.
"Men get ready! You're the freshest we got so get ready to move!" The general yelled over the gun fire. I looked over the walls to see two rows of Germans making a move toward us, and saw the next second when they all stopped crawling at about the same point as our crew.
"When you go, crawl! Makes a smaller target even if it is slower!" I was practicaly shaking in my boots as we lined up ready to go. The Machine gunner prepared his gun to give us a few minutes of cover while we made our way across.
"Alright boys! Three two one... GO!" At his word we jumped from our places guns in hand and rolled onto the dirt. The machine gun fire behind silenced the German fire for a bit, but only until it reloaded. Next thing we saw was rows of German barrells pointed our direction. The gunfire fell upon us like a metal hail storm as we crawled forward. A shot hit the two men beside me. I was scared so much that I jumped from my position, just to be hit in the leg. I fell over onto the ground and lay still, hoping that a stray shot didn't come over to hit me. I lay there for what seemed like forever when I felt a hand grab my jacket and start pulling me to safety. Next thing I knew I was thrown into the trench and stared at my saviors sillouette as he rushed back out to get whoever else was left.
Hours later as I layed in the medic tent I found out that the man had been General Kufeir. I also found out that he had died from multiple shots he had aquired during his resuce of five men. I remained at war till it was over, and now I look back and see that it was all to make his sacrafice not in vain...
The Mines of Youth (Robert Lowe)
It was 1907 and the mines had just reopened. They had to be shut down after the last cave-in. I was sixteen and had to drop out of school to take up a job cause my daddy got hurt. The cave-in took a few workers so they were lookin for more. So, crack of dawn the next mornin' I was already in the elevator goin' down. The sound of the whistle grew dimmer as the night closed back around us. We flicked on the lights of our hard hats and walked out the door into the heavy air of the mines. The wind that did blow through made an eerie whistle through the caverns, but was soon covered by the sounds of picks and shovels as we went to work. I happened to be working beside a veteran of the hole, Patrick McCullen. He was a tall Irishman with a thick, scruffy beard and a frame built for digging.
"Bring ya pick above ya head and ya might get some more force outta it ya know." I knew he was talking to me, I wasn't having much success in getting through the rock.
"Thanks."
"Ya ain't gotta be so shy either. We're all men down 'ere. My name's Pat by the way." I stopped for a moment to shake his hand. "So why are ya down 'ere, shouldn't you be in school?"
"School's overrated. Besides, pa needed some help with the bills."
"Ah, I see. Well lad, if need any help, just call for Pat." He gave me a wink that I could barely see in the dim light then walked off. I continued picking away at the rocks for the next nine hours until we knocked off. That night went by too fast and before I knew it the whistle was ringing again. Pat was there again at the same spot and coached me for the next few weeks. One day the air seemed thicker than usual, but no one really noticed. The first few hours went by as usual, but then something happened. The wind wasn't blowing as much as usual.
"Stick close to the walls lad, I'm not sure what's coming, but it doesn't feel good." He continued to glance down the halls for the next hour. Finally the air got to be almost unbreathable and the next thing we knew a fireball was roaring through the tunnels. The few of us who could take cover managed to survive the blast, but the caves soon came down around us. I looked around but didn't see Patrock anywhere.
"PAT!" I screamed over the rumbling of the rocks, "PATRICK!" I scrambled to my feet. The explosion had left a small area I could move around in. The rocks above settled and then there was silence. As I continued to call my voice would echo around through the holes in the rocks. Finally I heard something. It was a low moan. Then I realized it was Pat. I rushed over to where I heard the sound and threw the rocks aside. I finally reached him and he was a horrible sight. His face was charred from the flames and his voice hoarse.
"Pat! Hold on, I'm going to get you out!"
"No lad, you're not. It's not worth the risk. These rocks above me could fall back onto ya."
"Pat," I said quietly holding back tears, "I'm going to. You've helped me, and now I'm going to help you." He protested again before he passed out. I slowly pulled rocks from him. Finally I pulled him free. I laid him out in the clearing before I too pased out. Next thing I knew we were in a hospital.
"Good you're awake." I heard the doctor come in, but he wasn't talking to me. He was talking to the man behind the curtains. "You owe your life to that kid over there. If he hadn't of pulled you free, you would have died no doubt."
"I know Doc, and believe me, he will too... is he ok?"
"Yes I do believe so. The fire scorched his back, but overall he's fine." I tried to roll over to see if it was me he was talking about, but the pain from my back assured me of the fact. "If you don't mind, I still need to check on him." He strolled over to the curtain and slowly pulled it aside.
"Ah, so you're awake too!"
"I think so."
"It's good, you've been out for about three days. That man over there has aksed about you for every one." I glance through the curtain at Pat. "You saved his life. He's not much for a face, but he's alive."
"How bad was the accident?"
"Bad. I have only seen a few survivors including you two. The lord himself must have been watching over you two." I just shook my head as he left. After we got out, Pat and I remained good friends. He died many years ago now...
"Bring ya pick above ya head and ya might get some more force outta it ya know." I knew he was talking to me, I wasn't having much success in getting through the rock.
"Thanks."
"Ya ain't gotta be so shy either. We're all men down 'ere. My name's Pat by the way." I stopped for a moment to shake his hand. "So why are ya down 'ere, shouldn't you be in school?"
"School's overrated. Besides, pa needed some help with the bills."
"Ah, I see. Well lad, if need any help, just call for Pat." He gave me a wink that I could barely see in the dim light then walked off. I continued picking away at the rocks for the next nine hours until we knocked off. That night went by too fast and before I knew it the whistle was ringing again. Pat was there again at the same spot and coached me for the next few weeks. One day the air seemed thicker than usual, but no one really noticed. The first few hours went by as usual, but then something happened. The wind wasn't blowing as much as usual.
"Stick close to the walls lad, I'm not sure what's coming, but it doesn't feel good." He continued to glance down the halls for the next hour. Finally the air got to be almost unbreathable and the next thing we knew a fireball was roaring through the tunnels. The few of us who could take cover managed to survive the blast, but the caves soon came down around us. I looked around but didn't see Patrock anywhere.
"PAT!" I screamed over the rumbling of the rocks, "PATRICK!" I scrambled to my feet. The explosion had left a small area I could move around in. The rocks above settled and then there was silence. As I continued to call my voice would echo around through the holes in the rocks. Finally I heard something. It was a low moan. Then I realized it was Pat. I rushed over to where I heard the sound and threw the rocks aside. I finally reached him and he was a horrible sight. His face was charred from the flames and his voice hoarse.
"Pat! Hold on, I'm going to get you out!"
"No lad, you're not. It's not worth the risk. These rocks above me could fall back onto ya."
"Pat," I said quietly holding back tears, "I'm going to. You've helped me, and now I'm going to help you." He protested again before he passed out. I slowly pulled rocks from him. Finally I pulled him free. I laid him out in the clearing before I too pased out. Next thing I knew we were in a hospital.
"Good you're awake." I heard the doctor come in, but he wasn't talking to me. He was talking to the man behind the curtains. "You owe your life to that kid over there. If he hadn't of pulled you free, you would have died no doubt."
"I know Doc, and believe me, he will too... is he ok?"
"Yes I do believe so. The fire scorched his back, but overall he's fine." I tried to roll over to see if it was me he was talking about, but the pain from my back assured me of the fact. "If you don't mind, I still need to check on him." He strolled over to the curtain and slowly pulled it aside.
"Ah, so you're awake too!"
"I think so."
"It's good, you've been out for about three days. That man over there has aksed about you for every one." I glance through the curtain at Pat. "You saved his life. He's not much for a face, but he's alive."
"How bad was the accident?"
"Bad. I have only seen a few survivors including you two. The lord himself must have been watching over you two." I just shook my head as he left. After we got out, Pat and I remained good friends. He died many years ago now...
The Bedside of Robert Lowe
It was a cold winter's eve at Jackson Hospital. Christmas was right around the corner but it was business as usual for us. The walls were beautifully decorated with garland and light, but the tree in the lobby was most beautiful of all. It was very big that year, and with the lights and tinsle it almost looked like a beacon of hope for the sick. They were old lights, the ones were if one blew they all went out, but they were much more luminous than the newer sets. In a way they reminded me of the old man in room 302. It was not his room, it was bare as a dried river bed, but the man himself. Robert Lowe was man who had seen much. He was eighty-two years old with hair white as the snow. He was always friendly and greeted the nurses by name every morning. He was terminaly ill with an unknown disease, and noone ever came to visit him, but somehow he was still just as cheerful as the big man himself. Now that I look back he was exactly the opposite of me. I was very bitter back then... I had bills I couldn't pay, my wife had left me, and my work seemed duller than ever, and even though at the time I was faking sincerity, I'm glad I listened to that old man. Every night I would sit by his bedside and listen to his stories. I worked the night shift and while everyone was asleep, I would sit with him as he enraptured me with his stories. I even remember the first one. The one about the mines...
Monday, November 30, 2009
History
It's funny how material things can mean so much to so many people. History is one thing that we all have even if some don't want it. No matter if it's a building we used to hang out at or a toy we used to play with, or even a home we wish to leave behind. History is one thing that always eludes us but is ever present. We must learn from it if we wish to leave more behind. Our future generations will depend on it just as we have, whether they learn from it or not. If they do, they choose the path of most people before us. Refusing to learn from the past and walking down the dark road to destruction in a time so short that the universe forgets to blink. That's what history means to me. Hoepfully it means the same to some of you.
What Are We Becoming
What has become of the human race. It seems like we're on a constant spiral down into an abyss form which we may never return. Over centuries past civilizations have risen and fallen back into the wastes, but there has always been another to take its place. Now, however, it almost seems like the whole world is one civilization now. If one collapses, we all fall. Unity is one thing but symbiotic existence is another entirely. We are constantly doing things to drive ourselves, and in essensce everyone else, into oblivion. Increasing debt leading to desperate times and starined lives then turning into violent times. The apocalypse is upon us, though it will not be the end. Apocalypse originally meant an unvieling. That is what has to happen for us to live on. Otherwise we are doomed to suicide on a massive scale, and by the time enough people realize it, it will already be too late.
Headline News
Welcome people to Healine News. I'm Beauty Jones, and yes, I'm better looking than you. In other news, today's top story, involves the coming of the mole people, and are they a threat? Peruzia Smith is live inside the community with the story.
"Hello Peruzia, how are you?"
"Eeek eck up."
"Smith, English please."
"Oh sorry, I've gotten used to their language. It's really quite easy once you figure out-"
"Smith.."
"-once you figure out that the sounds-"
"SMITH! Just do the story."
"Oh yes the story right. Well Beauty, the mole people are really quite intelligent. They're academics are comparable to ours at worst, and they're art is stunning. They are really a friendly race. In fact I had a few offered to have me for dinner not too long ago. They wouldn't say what we were having, but the description sounded scrumptuous."
"Yes Smith sounds lovely. But do you believe they pose a threat?"
"No not at all Beauty. In fact, I'm saddened by their coming doom."
"What do you mean?"
"Well they're going to die."
"Why?"
"Well, that's what we do. We kill stuff. We're good at it."
"But you said they posed no harm?"
"Yes, they do not."
"Then why would we kill them?"
"Well why not?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"The same one the Commander-in-chief is going to ask his generals."
"Good point. Well folks that all for today. Thanks you Smith, and hopefully we'll get to talk to you again soon. Good night folks."
"Headline News! The stuff Fox won't even talk about." -POW!-
"Hello Peruzia, how are you?"
"Eeek eck up."
"Smith, English please."
"Oh sorry, I've gotten used to their language. It's really quite easy once you figure out-"
"Smith.."
"-once you figure out that the sounds-"
"SMITH! Just do the story."
"Oh yes the story right. Well Beauty, the mole people are really quite intelligent. They're academics are comparable to ours at worst, and they're art is stunning. They are really a friendly race. In fact I had a few offered to have me for dinner not too long ago. They wouldn't say what we were having, but the description sounded scrumptuous."
"Yes Smith sounds lovely. But do you believe they pose a threat?"
"No not at all Beauty. In fact, I'm saddened by their coming doom."
"What do you mean?"
"Well they're going to die."
"Why?"
"Well, that's what we do. We kill stuff. We're good at it."
"But you said they posed no harm?"
"Yes, they do not."
"Then why would we kill them?"
"Well why not?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"The same one the Commander-in-chief is going to ask his generals."
"Good point. Well folks that all for today. Thanks you Smith, and hopefully we'll get to talk to you again soon. Good night folks."
"Headline News! The stuff Fox won't even talk about." -POW!-
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