7th July 2005

Ten years ago this week, I was working in Austria. Sometime on Thursday 7th July, we heard that there had been a bomb attack in London: the attack now known as '7/7' to chime with '9/11' (even though in Britain we tend to number our dates differently to the Americans).

The bombs explored in places I knew well and had frequented countless times. On reflection what is most poignant for me is the fact that I may have once seen one of the victims. She worked at a place I visited a couple of times. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I ever met her or spoke to her - and she certainly didn't know me - but I have the faintest recollections that I glimpsed a girl with bright blonde hair through the open door of an office as I walked down the corridor. When I saw her photograph and read who she was and where she worked, I put two and two together.

I could be mistaken, of course, but I am left with the effect nonetheless. For me, this news story has something more real about it than usual. Amid the terror and the suffering, the dead and the dying, there was somebody with whom I could identify. When I read her obituary, of her hopes and expectations and of those she loved and who loved her left behind, I cannot help but be moved by the loss of somebody I never knew.

In Memoriam

In Memoriam - Werner Callebaut (1952-2014)

This blog is really about the marginalia of life. However, every so often something of particular seriousness arises.

Somebody I admired very much - Werner Callebaut - died a few weeks ago. Tomorrow (12th December 2014), his ashes will be interred at Unterer Stadtfriedhof, Vienna. He was, at the time of his death, scientific director of the Konrad Lorenz Institute. I wanted to note here how much he will be missed, not only by me but by all those who knew him. He was an intellectual of a kind that is very rare both for its incisiveness and its generosity. From both of these I was fortunate enough to benefit.

RIP Donna Summer

With the death of Donna Summer (1948-2012), like many, I am reminded of her music. For much of the morning, I have been listening to different versions of 'This Time I Know It's For Real' - my favourite of her songs. I particularly like the way at times her vocals come in before she has finished the previous line ("I'm going crazy just to let you know ...").

I am also reminded of what I blogged on 1st February 2011 (After we are gone). After we are gone, will it be said of us that we left more than we found - or left things better than we found them. Opinions may vary but somebody who got the world dancing - instead of fighting - leaves us better off.

Rest In Peace? I wonder. If to DIE is to Dance Into Eternity, bring it on.

After we are gone

Said of a US civil rights leader who died sometime around the start of 2010 and whose name I never discovered – 'He left more than he found'. This phrase I find quite pregnant with possible implications. We all leave the world changed in some way. By merely being here, we alter what goes on around us. However, this man left 'more'. This suggests that he contributed in some positive way; he didn't merely get involved for selfish reasons – that would have been a negative contribution in that it takes more than it gives.
Since reading and commenting on what was said of that man, I've heard a similar version – 'He left things better than he found them'. Interestingly, if one thinks about it, only human beings can leave things worse!

Appropriate Sentiments

Last week, I wrote a few brief words at the passing of a friend. Still sad about this, I thought the following words appropriate.

 

No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

John Donne  (1572-1631)

In Memoriam

Today, I wept bitter tears at the loss of a friend and for those left behind.

In the midst of life, we are in death.