Life: As Many Experiences as Possible (AMEAP)

Love all of his work so far

Taking Chance, Movie

When I travel, I constantly check to make sure I have my passport. Lt. Col. Michael Strobl, a military escort, constantly checks to make sure he has Chance Phelp’s personal items. The movie, Taking Chance, was similar to the novel Final Salute in terms of my reactions. I reacted to both in an extremely emotional way. Both brought me to tears on multiple occasions. One scene in the movie that struck me was when a veteran sternly told Lt. Col. Michael Strobl:

“You brought Chance home. You’re a witness. Without a witness they just disappear.” 

This was a major tear jerker for me. The movie and novel were both tough for me. I could relate with Lt. Col. Michael Strobl’s character:

“Graduate boot camps feel like your on top of the world. Then you travel and see things you ever thought you would see.”

When I graduated high school I felt like I was on top of the world. Now that I am in college I constantly travel. I just have to make sure I don’t lose my passport. 

 

 

After the War, Stories

“I like to think that he’s somewhere watching over us,” she said “there are times when I actually believe that.” (171)

Melissa Givens was quoted on a discussion about her diseased husband. I have stressed before that I have never lost someone at war, but this quote reminded me of a significant time in my life.

One of my friends from high school, Linden, passed away about a year ago. It was a freak accident. One of my best friends from high school, Kelly, had to speak at the funeral, it was her birthday. The funeral took place the Friday of finals week. So on Wednesday I called my mom after my last final and asked her to pick up a cake for Kelly’s birthday. My mom went to a local place that Kelly and Linden always went to, sometimes I would join them. This place is known for their red velvet cake. My mom went there and asked for a cake. The head chief told my mom how ironic it was that she asked today, because an extra red velvet cake was delivered. Ever since that day, I believe Linden is watching over Kelly.

The funeral was not easy, but no funeral is. It was probably not Kelly’s favorite birthday either. Marlin says:

“It is supposed to be a joyous occasion, your birth and your death.” (224)

This novel was hard for me to read but the last section was my favorite. I enjoyed being enlightened on different peoples perspectives of death. 

Bringing them Home

Learning something and understanding something are completely different things. Personally, I have taken many ecology courses, but never seemed to understand the material. Last summer, in Costa Rica, I took a tropical ecology course. I was outside in the rainforest practically everyday. I finally understood ecology. In the third section of Final Salute I thought about my personal course struggles when Staff Sergeant Kevin Thomas said:

“I was a history major. I learned about the Western Expansion, I learned about the Indians, but I never really understood.” (123)

Their is only so much you can learn in a classroom. After reading Bringing them Home I realized that a solider can only learn so much at boot camp. A solider runs a million drills and a student does a million practice problems, all the work seems tedious until one understands, until one knows:

“There’s a difference between believing and knowing. Before, there were some things I believe. Now I know.” (95)  

Reverberations

After reading, Reverberations, the second section in Final Salute, I was disappointed. This section was the most mediocre. It could have gone into more detail about the Marine’s lives. Even though it did not go into detail I still made a connection: 

“Within minutes a rocket-propelled grenade sliced into the right side of Lance Corporal Kyle Burns, a Carhartt wearing, copenhagen chewing, hard-swearing, church going kid from Laramie.” (34)

I could relate to this passage, because running though my mind was thousands of images of different guys that went to my high school. They would have been best friends with Kyle Burns. I was not best friends with these guys, but I did not need to be. Just seeing them everyday and relating this passage to them, it finally clicked in my head that I was reading a non fiction novel. 

The Knock

Life lessons are not taught in a classroom. Life lessons are the results of experiences that an individual encounters. The experience can seem like a minor hiccup in life, like reading a book with a box of tissues by your side or having someone knock on your door. No matter how minor the experience, the results can be life changing.

Recently I read Final Salute by Jim Sheeler. The novel lays out the dry facts about military families that have had a love one pass at war, but their stories keep your eyes plenty moist. The first section, The Knock, opens the door to the emotions brought upon these military families. 

I could not personally relate to the novel and the emotions, but I did notice a similarity to The Things that Carried Him, by Chris Jones and Jim Sheeler’s Final Salute. In Final Salute the Marines are dressed accordingly before knocking on a family’s door:

“Dress blue jackets wrapped their necks with a high collar that dates back to the Revolutionary War when Marines wore leather neck straps to protect them.” (4)

I found this ironic. According to The Things that Carried Him: 

“Iraq war, for example, they began to notice a disproportionate number of deaths caused by small shrapnel wounds to the neck. They recommended that soldiers on the ground start wearing armored collars, which have significantly reduced the number of fatal neck wounds dissected at Dover.” 

I do realize that the Marines and the Army are completely different, but the Marines should also wear neck straps when at war, not just when they go knock on someones door. This one minor adjustment could be a life changing experience. The Army already learned their lesson. The Army has saved plenty of tissues and lives, maybe the Marines could too. 

 

The Things That Carried Him

Recently I read The Things That Carried Him by Chris Jones. The impeccable article is divided into three separate sections. Each section revealed the stories of multiple people who were affiliated with Robert Joe Montgomery.

Chris Jones introduces the people in Robert Joe Montgomery’s life with great detail. One thing, in particular, that I noticed about Jones’ writing was numbers. Anything that could be counted was expressed, from someones age to the amount of people in a crowd:

“Seven soldiers stood in a stiff line and fired three volleys each.”  

Jones’ detailed writing exposed a small town’s grief over, solider three thousand four hundred thirty one, Robert Joe Montgomery. Linton, an air force veteran that flew in Montgomery’s body, stated: 

“It seems the smaller the town, the bigger the turnout.”  

I grew up in a small town. The town I grew up in has never experienced such an emotional tragedy, but in relation, everyone is connected to everyone. A passage from the reading made me think about the small town I am from and how we all grew up with each other:

“Gail bond could still remember so clearly holding him [Montgomery] that day, his little head poking out the top of his blanket. Now Joey was in the flag- draped casket in front of her, new memories stealing away from the old.”   

Memories seem to come and go as they please. I remember being in Peleliu and standing in, what seemed to be, a cemetery. As I was standing there our tour guide told us that none of the soldiers bodies were actually there. At the time that seemed like the oddest thing in the world. Why would they dig up every single body and ship the remains to the families? Seemed to me like a lot of leg work for no reason. Well, now I know more than ever, that the number of bodies that they needed to ship home did not matter, what mattered was the memories one body could bring to thousands.  

The Falling Man

Tattoos and photographs are very similar, both are a type of art. You can choose what photograph hangs above your fireplace and you can choose what ink occupies your body. Scars and photographs are also very similar, both can be a reminder of an uncontrollable event. 9/11 was an uncontrollable event that wounded people physically and mentally. The photograph “The Falling Man” is an image that is astonishing, but also reveals the harsh truths of 9/11. Showing this photograph to people affected by 9/11 would be like pouring salt into an open wound, it might seem like a great idea, but it will only leave a bigger scar.

On 9/11 I was in the hospital getting surgery on my neck. The surgery left a nice scar. It is a constant reminder of what happened that day. I will never forget waking up in the hospital and being scared. The hospital was at a standstill when I woke up. Everyone was watching the towers fall on CNN. I was ten years young at the time.

The morning of the surgery, I was as nervous as a person about to jump out a window. I double checked everything. I checked to make sure my double stuffed Oreos (favorite thing to eat after surgery) and my toe socks (which I wear every surgery) were packed. After surgery, my feelings about going into surgery made me sick. I should have gone into the surgery carless, like a business person walking to work, because that morning was not the last morning of my life.

For Norberto Hernandez, a pastry chef at the Twin Towers, that was the “last morning of his life.” After reading and viewing “The Falling Man” by Tom Junod, I was shocked by the journalist’s approach towards the Hernandezs family. To identify the man in the photo, the journalist showed the photo,The Falling Man, to the family. At the time I am sure the journalist was not thinking about how this would effect the family, just like the photographer was not thinking about how his photographs would effect the public. As quoted in “The Falling Man”:

“One never knows when history is made until one makes it.”

History shapes the present. Photographs capture a surreal moment in the past. Scars represent past struggles. Tattoos represent moments we do not want suppressed.

Forgiven

I have read Forgiven by Paul Tullis too many times to count. With every cause comes an effect and with life comes death. This summer I have read many novels and articles about people dying, that sounds depressing and scary, but if you are scared of death then you are scared to live.

Conor McBride murdered his girlfriend while his family was on vacation. What strikes me as odd is that his family went on vacation without him. Family vacation without your son? Maybe they can photoshop Conor sporting his orange jumpsuit into the photos.

Ann, Conor’s girlfriend, was known as the girl to confide in others problems. Conor, who obviously had family issues, was Ann’s project, until he murdered her. Conor’s guilt ate him alive. I can not confidently say that Ann made Conor a better person when she was alive, but Conor’s actions after the murder made him seem like a “good guy.” Without a doubt, Ann’s parents are some of the best people I have ever read about. Kate Grosmaire (Ann’s mom):

“Tell him [Conor] I love him, and I forgive him.”

Forgiveness is a funny thing. I always forgive people. If I do not forgive, the event keeps replaying in my head and becomes part of my daily thoughts. Kate Grosmaire states:

“Forgiveness for me was self-preservation.”

When I forgive someone I learn from the situation for future circumstances instead of living in the unchangeable past.

I am currently reading The Walk Series by Richard Paul Evans, in the third novel, The Road to Grace, I believe Evan’s explains forgiveness perfectly:

“To forgive is to unlock the cage of another’s folly to set ourselves free.”

New Kid to Ms. Kingsman

In 2006 I was enrolled to go to Our Lady of Mercy Academy which is an all girls private school located in South Jersey. There are about two hundred girls that attend the high school. The day I received my uniform in the mail I threw it out and used the box to pack my essentials for South Bend, Indiana.

Three days later, I attend my first day of high school at Penn Harris Madison. My class size was about 1,400 students, which was about the size of my middle school in New Jersey, talk about a culture shock. I strolled into high school with my messenger bag, sun kissed hair, sand in my shoes and a thick New Jersey accent. I have never been made fun of so much in my life.

I did not experience the “Midwest charm” from my peers on the first day of high school. I did experience something much more life changing though. Class periods were 88 minutes long and by the end of 4th period I was antsy to go. Well to my surprise I got my period. It made a huge mark on my chair and on my life.

I was beyond embarrassed and did not know what to do. I took my unhip messenger bag and covered my bum and walked out of the classroom. My dad picked me up from high school that day. My dad tried to find a spot up front and was proud of his attempts. Well my dad parked in the bus lane with all 60 buses surrounding his car. I saw those New Jersey license plates from miles away.

Four years later I still carried my messenger bag proudly filled with a plethora of tampons and pads. I lost my accent, my hair faded and the sand in my shoes disappeared, but my spirits grew. I knew everyone that was in that english class freshman year. My senior year not only was everyone carrying messenger bags, but I was voted Ms. Kingsman by my peers.