Death Makes the News
Death seems to leave people speechless, and then, it seems to make them verbose.
On this day, I tend to believe the old wives tale that deaths come in "3s"--but, it seems to have come in 4's here, too--and, I know probably thousands more.
This is not a eulogy for Ed McMahon, although, I did grow up with him on the late night TV screen, first in vblack and white, then, in full color. Ed seemed like my friend, the friend I couldn't talk about, since I wasn't supposed to be up that late watching television, so, I watched Ed & Johnny in the dark, alone. They made me laugh, and taught me a new vocabulary, and gave me ideas, and introduced me to the broader world. They were grown men who had a friendship. They talked to one another, they joked, they even cried together--and they weren't related. For many little boys like me, they may have modeled something that we didn't see around our neighborhoods--male friendships.
Farah Fawcett. I wasn't a Charlie's Angels fan--except for Kate Jackson, but, I did recall her acting in "The Burning Bed," and how it exposed me to the reality of domestic violence in a shattering way-that it really happens, frequently, in hiding, and that it is real--and, that we can do something about it--and that we should look for the signs, and confront abusers, and tell.
Michael Jackson. For years, he and I were the same age, then, at his death, he is three years younger. Maybe it's the skin-whitening, the hair, the eyes, the sequined glove. Eccentric, talented, tragic, no doubt lonely--people called him "beloved," but I don't think he knew that. His poor children, his legacy tarnished, his talent diminished. The only Michael Jackson record I ever owned was "Rocking Robin, " and that was the Jackson 5. I somehow missed the Thriller crusade--and, "Billy Jean" seemed to be borderline abusive in the video. His death, at 50 (or 53) is a loss of his great talent.
There was another death this week, the death of an infant to SIDS. Unexplainable, painful, heartbreaking. The young family may never be the same. They are surrounded by their loving family, friends, their caring Church-my church, and this little boy will not receive a headline, a 48 Hour special, or a mention on Dateline--but, he matters--and he may be the greatest loss of the week, because of the loss of the potential of his life. God's choice to take him is not understandable, almost unbearable. This little one-on the earth for only a few months, was loved and adored--and, will be missed--in ways that sear your heart. His death will not make the news, but, his death will display how much the Loving Father wraps us in His hand and comforts, wipes the tears, heals.
Sleep in heavenly peace.
On this day, I tend to believe the old wives tale that deaths come in "3s"--but, it seems to have come in 4's here, too--and, I know probably thousands more.
This is not a eulogy for Ed McMahon, although, I did grow up with him on the late night TV screen, first in vblack and white, then, in full color. Ed seemed like my friend, the friend I couldn't talk about, since I wasn't supposed to be up that late watching television, so, I watched Ed & Johnny in the dark, alone. They made me laugh, and taught me a new vocabulary, and gave me ideas, and introduced me to the broader world. They were grown men who had a friendship. They talked to one another, they joked, they even cried together--and they weren't related. For many little boys like me, they may have modeled something that we didn't see around our neighborhoods--male friendships.
Farah Fawcett. I wasn't a Charlie's Angels fan--except for Kate Jackson, but, I did recall her acting in "The Burning Bed," and how it exposed me to the reality of domestic violence in a shattering way-that it really happens, frequently, in hiding, and that it is real--and, that we can do something about it--and that we should look for the signs, and confront abusers, and tell.
Michael Jackson. For years, he and I were the same age, then, at his death, he is three years younger. Maybe it's the skin-whitening, the hair, the eyes, the sequined glove. Eccentric, talented, tragic, no doubt lonely--people called him "beloved," but I don't think he knew that. His poor children, his legacy tarnished, his talent diminished. The only Michael Jackson record I ever owned was "Rocking Robin, " and that was the Jackson 5. I somehow missed the Thriller crusade--and, "Billy Jean" seemed to be borderline abusive in the video. His death, at 50 (or 53) is a loss of his great talent.
There was another death this week, the death of an infant to SIDS. Unexplainable, painful, heartbreaking. The young family may never be the same. They are surrounded by their loving family, friends, their caring Church-my church, and this little boy will not receive a headline, a 48 Hour special, or a mention on Dateline--but, he matters--and he may be the greatest loss of the week, because of the loss of the potential of his life. God's choice to take him is not understandable, almost unbearable. This little one-on the earth for only a few months, was loved and adored--and, will be missed--in ways that sear your heart. His death will not make the news, but, his death will display how much the Loving Father wraps us in His hand and comforts, wipes the tears, heals.
Sleep in heavenly peace.
posted by Downtown Don Simmons at
8:28 PM
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