In 1999, John F. Kennedy Jr., his wife, Carolyn, and her sister, Lauren Bessette, died when their single-engine plane, piloted by Kennedy, plunged into the Atlantic Ocean near Martha’s Vineyard, Mass.
I remember hearing the first words of the missing plane and who was on it and knowing it was over. I knew the circumstances, watched it unfold as did everyone because John John was royalty. He was also this guy who was always downtown in Soho, on his bike, or roller blades. at bars and always a big flirt.
One summer night in 1998, out with friends celebrating Max ’s having passed the BAR exam. We were down on West Broadway at Lucky Strike and Box a very Euro bar with great drinks. JFK jr. came in, and went to the bar. Notoriously he had not passed the BAR in his first attempt, and had real difficulty passing it later. I always saw him but I would never approach him, there was no reason to and he was always surrounded by women anyway. So the joke/idea was that we should ask him to join us for a toast to Max for his achievement, passing the BAR on his first try. It was teasing and mean and I don’t do mean. There was no way I would go through with it even though the bar was rather quiet that night and the fact was John John had looked over a few times and smiled his famous smile in our direction. My friends kept telling me to go over, he was looking and I was being ridiculous, but I had no intention.
As he was leaving, he veered toward our table and said ”Hope you are having a good night,” looking and locking eyes with me and then smiled the killer smile and walked out. Well my “cool” friends all burst out into nervous laughter as I turned crimson red. I was so happy they never went through with their childish dig.
A year later he was married and missing and everyone I knew was crushed ,shocked and in disbelief. How could it be in real life, that this could happen to him? I mean why? The Kennedy curse just would not relent. I remember my first thought was, thank G-d Jackie O. had passed, and about Caroline and her utter despair over her baby brother. The Bessette family losing two daughters in a national tragedy. The search went on for over three days but I grieved knowing there was no surprise ending.
It was like Princess Diana all over again. It devastated the country and the world.
I am a sentimental person so I shared that silly story. Rest in peace, John, Carolyn and Lauren you are not forgotten.
Remember…
That first kiss when I pulled you away
Closed the door behind us and slammed you
Up against the wall.
That kiss turned knees to jelly, lips to berries
And sealed our fates it seems.
It appears from far away now,
somewhere lost in dreams.
Memories they remain, time has let the bad fade.
Remember…
When we went to Balthazar that first whirlwind night?
How I thought you had tricked me by telling me your birthday
was the same day as mine.
But it was true,
and I knew then, you knew too, and we were happy.
Things were not perfect, please
I am not deluded, but we were happy.
I Remember…
Making love to you, looking you straight in the eye and knowing you.
Your hair long, formed a halo around your head.
I told you I could look at your face forever.
I meant it you know?
I confess, I saw us having a child,
just one and I knew this would be a loved child,
Nurtured and exposed to unique people such as our families were (are).
Remember…
We watched our friends walk down an aisle with hesitation.
Yet, I did not want to be them in the stuffy NYC hotel with the low ceilings.
No, you and I would have done it differently.
It would have been for us, not a sea of faces that judged us
As they smiled.
But rather before only our loved ones and g-d.
Remember…
Pretending that we won the lottery?
Fantasizing about what we would do?
Take care of our folks, see to it they had everything.
You would write, I would write and we would travel,
Volunteer, make a movie and love each other like only you and I could?
I always wanted you near me yet, I let you go.
I knew we loved each other but there were others we
Needed to love too.
Remember…
The Hamptons? Flashes of bodies writhing in pleasure,
Forgetting all, and everyone outside the doors,
enraptured, entwined and happy.
I remember. You do too.
There is a place in my heart that longs for you even now, today, I would
Drop everything for one try. Can you see it?
No, but I remember.
So I went to the site and saw a lovely page with people smiling all over it. I didn’t think twice about participating and responded that I was in.
veronicaromm:
Thank you for your participation. Here is how it works.
I will grab your great smile and post on the site and link to your stumbleUpOn profile and the blog your list under your profile. I will need your answers about the following 5 easy questions.
1. Something about you and your blogs/sites.
2. Why were you smiling in the photo?
3. How would you find happiness and be happy?
4. What is the secret of your great smile?
5. What would you recommend people do to find happiness and be happy?
Looking forward to hearing from you! Have a great day!
So I did and this is the title and link on the piece they did on me.
Unable to sleep I came across the film An American Crime. I read the brief information provided and learned the stars were Catherine Keener and Ellen Page so I decided to watch. I had never heard of the production or the true story of Sylvia Likens (Page) and what was considered the most horrible documented crime on an individual in the history of Indianapolis.
I watched with a knot in my stomach that just kept twisting as the film became more macabre, vicious and frightening, it was almost unbelievable. Unfortunately what I was watching was true and extremely tame compared to the actual crimes perpetrated on Sylvia by Gertrude Baniszewski (Keener). The film inter-cut between the courtroom testimony of the other five children and Sylvia’s own sister who were being cared for by “Gertie.” What I saw was so difficult that this is not going to be a film review at this time, but my reaction.
As soon as the film was over I googled the story and found myself reading various newspaper and journal articles. I wanted an answer as to how this could happen? I also wanted to know what the value was in making such a horrific, terrifying film? Only one conclusion made sense and both stars echoed the sentiment that her story needed to be told. Perhaps because it is so disturbing, it may make someone do something if ever they suspect that abuse is going on. Finally to remind people that Sylvia is just one precious life struck down by cruel, mentally unfit adults, scared children and seriously flawed judgement by so many others who could have, with one word saved this girls life.
No one said a thing as screams emanated from that house. Children told parents who either did not believe it or somehow ignored it for whatever reason. And neighbors, who heard just stayed to themselves. This is the crime which boils my blood as much as the torture Sylvia endured and that is the stark reality with which people live.
Ellen Page’s performance is heartbreaking and I wonder how one might be mentally able to sustain work in such a role. I can’t imagine it not being something that will haunt her on some level. Keener, although played with restraint is demonic, depraved, desperate and cruel. In reconciling whether to do the film (which she originally refused) she finally decided that as a mother she had to.
While we were laughing it up and watching Juno, Page was making a film quite different, important and controversial. This is not for everyone. It is a true crime story played out in gruesome fashion. Yet for the Sylvia’s who lived and died this way perhaps it should be seen and discussed.
First love is torturous. When it is also true love and presents itself at a very unfair age, it is a romance that will be tested… Who could possibly imagine that at seventeen, eighteen the high school boyfriend, the first love is the love? A love so strong and true it haunts her, always there in her heart and that place where nothing else will ever reside.
She lives and loves, enjoys fulfilling relationships with other people from various backgrounds who teach her the lessons she was meant to learn. Those loves can not be diminished for they help define the true love that is lost. With each bond extinguished the emptiness of the loss of him multiplies, grows when it should dim.
What if then he is once again there, wherever there may be? So close in proximity his presence is a constant tug on that place in her heart once she glimpses his face again. He is angry, still very angry, and again very angry. He says that she changed him, made him callous, and made him fear. The idea stabs her heart and that place where he still exists as he was, an idea that has been lost.
What if he is still that same boy who wants to free himself from fear and open up the place he says she destroyed? When he looks at her and the eyes, the eyes that haven’t changed the eyes she fell in love with, convey emotions that make that place in the heart tear a bit further, hemorrhage slowly.
She sees in those eyes the only man she ever met who she would want to be the Daddy. She sees in those eyes, in utter disbelief the man she has never let go. The one she would tell her best girlfriends about late nights, tears streaming down their cheeks, for the friend always believed too.
What if there is no chance he will ever trust her, ever let him get to know her as she is now? Never letting her show him how he loved her, how he taught her to love and because of fear and anger, lock away that place in his heart that only she had been given. Locked in a safe with the combination a faint memory.
All he sees when she looks in his wondrous eyes is the one that caused pain she cannot ever understand. He only wants to turn his back on her, walk away; speed away for it is dangerous to not speed full throttle out of her midst.
What if he goes against all that he thought he knew and lets her in? What if he takes the supreme chance and lets a love he can’t deny still exists, enter his life? What a chance he would be taking. He was once a gambling man but the odds, are hardly worth it? Or maybe the only risk worth taking?
What if he lets her in and she can put her guard down just long enough to show him how much love she has to offer him? What if they are as they should be perhaps, if things like that happen? Can they happen? Would he take that chance because he is like her and can’t deny that they are the most real he will ever be?
What if he never lets her in and wonders always if maybe she was who she claimed she was, the one that he loves just as she loves him? How will she stop the bleeding of her heart? How will he live knowing that she bleeds for him? With steely resolve? With regret and resentment?
