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Showing posts with label Ambrose Bierce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ambrose Bierce. Show all posts

Friday, December 1, 2023

Unfortunate (Mostly) Literary Happenings of Past Decembers

Read November's post here.

Content warning for mentions of suicide.

December 2, 1984: Union Carbide’s pesticide plant in Bhopal, India, is so poorly maintained it causes the largest industrial disaster in history. The accidental release of methyl isocyanate causes the immediate suffocation deaths of more than 2,000 people, injuries in more than 50,000 people, and an additional gas-related death toll of perhaps another 8,000 people. Although the Indian government charged Union Carbide executives with homicide, the company claimed it was not under Indian jurisdiction and these officials did not appear in court to face these charges.

December 4, 1987: Children’s book author and illustrator Arnold Lobel dies of AIDS-related cardiac arrest. He is 54 years old.

December 5, 1931: Poet Vachel Lindsay dies by suicide after intentionally drinking a bottle of lye. His last words are reportedly, “They tried to get me; I got them first!”

December 6, 1949: Folk and blues musician Huddie William Ledbetter, better known as Lead Belly, dies at age 61 from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS).

December 7, 1941: A surprise attack on U.S. territory by the Japanese military at 8 a.m. on this Sunday morning kills 2,403 Americans (2,335 military personnel and 68 civilians) and wounds 1,143. The attack on the U.S. naval base on the Hawaiian island of Oahu was intended to incapacitate the Pacific Fleet of the American Navy, even though the U.S. was officially neutral in World War II at this time. 

Among the wounded was my paternal grandfather Bill, 17 years old at the time. He was blown off his ship and knocked, unconscious, into the water, awakening in the base hospital with a shoulder injury. He recovered and was reassigned from pharmacist’s assistant to EMT so he could help care for the more seriously wounded sailors.

December 7, 2010: Kim Tinkham, age 36, dies of what was most likely metastatic breast cancer. Tinkham had appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show in 2008 to talk about the then-popular book The Secret. Tinkham claimed her Stage 3 breast cancer had been successfully treated with alternative medicine. The doctor who appeared with Tinkham on that show and backed up her claim, Robert Oldham Young, was arrested in 2014 and convicted in 2016 for theft and practicing medicine without a license. 

Young’s claim was that cancers are caused by an imbalance of the body’s pH and that an “alkaline diet” can treat and prevent cancer. Little to no scientific research supports this claim.

December 8, 1980: John Lennon is murdered by handgun outside his apartment building in New York City.

December 9, 1977: In the NBA, the L.A. Lakers play the Houston Rockets. At the beginning of the second half of the game, Laker Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Rocket Kevin Kunnert scuffle over a rebound. In the scuffle, Kunnert elbows Abdul-Jabbar’s teammate Kermit Washington. Washington punches Kunnert in the head. 

Kunnert’s teammate Rudy Tomjanovich runs over, intending to help break up the fight. Washington takes a swing at Tomjanovich, striking him in just such a way that fractures his skull. Tomjanovich falls to the court, unconscious and bleeding, although he quickly recovers and, apparently due to a rush of adrenaline, walks around the court in a seemingly aggressive manner. Tomjanovich doesn’t know it yet, but in addition to a broken jaw and nose, he has a fracture near the base of his skull leaking cerebrospinal fluid. He has to be rushed to the emergency room and given emergency surgery, since this is a life-threatening skull fracture. Tomjanovich requires five months of physical recovery before he can play again. 

December 9, 1995: American author Toni Cade Bambara dies of colorectal cancer at the age of 56.

December 10, 1816: The body of Harriet Westbrook Shelley, the estranged wife of Percy Shelley and the mother of his son and daughter, is discovered in the Serpentine River. She is pregnant and has apparently died by suicide. She is only 21 years old.

December 10, 1929: Poet, publisher, and World War I veteran Harry Crosby kills his mistress, Josephine Noyes Rotch, and himself inside a friend’s apartment. Crosby’s wife Caresse becomes worried about her husband’s whereabouts when he fails to show up for a dinner party with the poet Hart Crane. Crane will also die by suicide two years later.

December 11, 2021: Anne Rice dies at the age of 80 of complications from a stroke.

December 12, 1999: Satirical novelist Joseph Heller dies of a heart attack at the age of 76.

December 13, 2011: Gianluca Casseri, a far-right author, Germanic neo-Pagan, devotee of American fascist Ezra Pound, and historian of J.R.R. Tolkien goes on an anti-immigrant shooting spree in Piazza Dalmazia, Florence, Italy. He shoots five street vendors who are all immigrants from Senegal, wounding three and killing two. Casseri then kills himself.

December 14, 1920: George “The Gipper” Gipp, legendary Notre Dame football player, dies of strep throat and pneumonia in St. Joseph Hospital (then in South Bend, now located in Mishawaka). He is 25 years old. 

George Gipp is buried in his native Michigan, but an often-told legend around the Notre Dame campus is that Gipp's ghost haunts the old theater building, Washington Hall. According to the legend, when Gipp missed curfew and got locked out of his dorm building, he would sleep outside Washington Hall. 

December 14, 1995: 28-year-old professional skydiver Rob Harris dies while filming a Mountain Dew commercial. The commercial, a James Bond spoof in which a Bond-like figure snowboards out of an exploding plane, is aired featuring previous takes, but none of the footage from Harris’s final jump, contrary to urban legend. Harris’s fatal fall is triggered by tangled lines and a backup chute that fails to deploy in time.

December 16, 1913: Ambrose Bierce writes to his literary secretary, “I am going to Mexico with a pretty definite purpose which is not at present discloseable. If you hear of my being stood up against a Mexican stone wall and shot to rags, please know that I think that’s a pretty good way to depart this life. It beats old age, disease, or falling down cellar stairs. To be a Gringo in Mexico–ah, that is euthanasia!” Neither Bierce’s literary secretary nor any of his other acquaintances ever hear from him again after this letter. He’s presumed to have died in Mexico, perhaps in an early example of “suicide by cop,” or in this case, suicide by revolutionary.

December 18, 1966: Tara Browne, the heir to the Guinness stout fortune, dies in the hospital one day after crashing his Lotus Elan sports car into a parked truck. Browne had been driving at over 100 miles per hour through London and sped through a red traffic light before crashing. Browne’s passenger, model Suki Potier, was not injured in the accident. 

In popular cultural, Browne is remembered as the man who “blew his mind out in a car” in the Beatles song “A Day in the Life.” Browne and Paul McCartney and John Lennon were acquaintances.

December 18, 2015: A fire at Mzuzu University Library in Mzuzu, Malawi, destroys an estimated 45,000 pieces of media.

December 19, 1848: 30-year-old Emily Brontë dies of tuberculosis.

December 19, 1991: Musician Henry Rollins and roadie Dennis Cole return home from a Hole concert at the Whiskey a Go Go nightclub when they are held up by a pair of men with guns. The men demand money, and when they discover that Rollins and Cole only have $50 of cash between them, the men order Rollins to go inside the home (which Rollins and Cole share) to get more. Rollins escapes and calls the police. Cole is shot in the face by the robbers and dies. The assailants have never been identified or arrested.

December 21, 1940: Heavy-drinking author F. Scott Fitzgerald dies of a heart attack, leaving his novel The Last Tycoon unfinished.

December 22, 1940: The day after F. Scott Fitzgerald dies, author Nathanael West runs a stop sign while driving home to Los Angeles from a trip to Mexico. He and his wife Eileen McKenney are both killed. 

December 23, 1888: Vincent Van Gogh, suffering from a severe bout of depression, cuts off a piece of his own left ear with a razor.

Vincent van Gogh, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

December 24, 1851: A fire at the U.S. Library of Congress destroys 55,000 books, or approximately two-thirds of its collection at the time, including most of the books donated by Thomas Jefferson that made up the library’s original collection.

December 27, 1974: Ned Maddrell dies at the age of 97. He was the last fluent speaker of Manx, a Celtic language of the Isle of Man.

December 27, 2016: Actress and author Carrie Fisher dies during her fourth day in the intensive care unit of Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center. She has suffered from respiratory failure while aboard a flight on December 23rd. Her exact cause of death could not be determined, but artery disease, sleep apnea, and use of cocaine and opiates are all thought to be contributing factors. Fisher is 60 years old.

December 29, 2003: Maria Sergina, the last fluent native speaker of the Akkala Sámi language, dies and the language goes extinct. Akkala Sámi was spoken by the indigenous Sámi people of the Kola Peninsula in Russia.

December 30, 1903: The Iroquois Theatre in Chicago hosts a performance of Mr. Blue Beard before an audience filled with women and children out making a day of after-Christmas shopping. A faulty arc light causes the background scenery to catch fire. A number of inadequate fire safety precautions, including too few exits, lead to a disastrous fire that kills more than 600 people. 


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Thursday, July 13, 2023

21 Years Ago Today, I Married My Best Friend

My almanac project is on a brief hiatus while I explore more immediately profitable work than a book, but please enjoy these reminiscences of July 13ths past.

July 13, 1890: Ambrose Bierce’s best-known short story, “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” is published.

July 13, 1999, South Bend: This morning when I read the newspaper I said, “I want to see Shakespeare in Love.”  

Kevin responded, “You want him to be in love?”

I said, “Yes, and I know just the English girl to set him up with.”

So he said, “Okay, Emma.” [Jane Austen reference.]

Later that day I went to the bargain movie theater at Scotsdale Mall, the theater that only costs $1 during the day, and saw Shakespeare in Love. It had Joseph Fiennes, Gwyneth Paltrow, Dame Judy Densch (as Queen Elizabeth), Geoffrey Rush, and Ben Affleck. Rupert Everett appears briefly as Christopher Marlowe; he suggests the plot of Romeo and Juliet (which Shakespeare wanted to call Romeo and Ethel the Pirate’s Daughter), then gets killed offscreen.

Gwyneth Paltrow was very good at Viola, a lady who loves poetry and the theater. She disguises herself as a man to be an actor and gets the part of Romeo, while at the same time inspiring the role of Juliet. Sadly, their love does not go smoothly, for she has to get married to a local nobleman who wants to make her move to Virginia. (The American colonies were brand spanking new in Shakespeare’s time.) 

It’s really a great story. I didn’t know exactly what to expect but was pleased with how the movie unfolded. It’s funny, too.

When I got home I went straight to my bookshelf, pulled down Brush Up Your Poetry (my best source of Brit Lit info), and see what Christopher Marlowe was famous for (other than dying in a bar fight). It seems to be mainly the plays Doctor Faustus and The Jew of Malta. He coined the phrase “love at first sight:”


“Where both deliberate, the love is slight;

Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?”


July 13, 2002, Mishawaka: Tit and I got married at the band shell at Battell Park. After a Polish-style dinner at the reception and hours of dancing and socializing, we stayed at the Courtyard Marriott for the night. 

I can describe this event in minute detail, but I’m afraid those details won’t be interesting or meaningful to anyone except Tit Elingtin and me. 

July 13, 2003: First wedding anniversary! We drove to Navy Pier and went on a cruise on Lake Michigan. Our cruise on the Odyssey II was nothing at all like The Odyssey of Homer. (No, not that minivan that Homer Simpson rented.) We experienced no storms, no shipwrecks. 

We had a warm, slightly breezy day. The worst part of it was when we sat on the metal chairs on the observation deck, I got all hot and sweaty and my armpits started to stink. There were no sea monsters. One lady wore a necklace made out of multicolored plastic beads like rosary beads. Not all of the colors were pretty, and they seemed to have been strung in a random order. The resulting mix of colors reminded me of an afghan made with every yarn in the knitting basket. No sea monsters; that necklace was the only aesthetically non-pleasing thing I saw. 

No Circe hung around to turn the men into pigs. We all turned ourselves into pigs when presented with the brunch buffet. And then we had a dessert buffet at the end of the cruise. I ate a coconut brownie, a cream-filled pastry, and a slice of raspberry cheese cake. Tit ate all three kinds of cheesecake. He had 2 plates of desserts, actually, washed down with a big glass of chocolate milk. (Mmm, I wish I had one of those chocolate brownies right now.) 

One guy sounded a little bit like a pig when his little son showed up with a balloon animal that the ship's magician gave him. “Look daddy, I have a bunny!” he said of a balloon creature with two loops sticking out of the side. “Or a sword!” said the dad. Do you really want to encourage that little boy to prefer weapons to cute, cuddly little creatures, dad? The boy insisted, though, that it was a bunny, not a sword.  (I'm not saying I'm against playing games that involve violence or weapons. What I am against is stereotyping children into strict gender roles. More on that follows.) Another boy had a palm tree made out of balloons, and he was pretending it was a gun that shot coconuts.

We encountered no sirens. Thank gods (as Ulysses would say), because I didn't particularly feel like stuffing beeswax in my ears or being tied to the mast. The only music came from the jazz trio. There were some young women in very short skirts whose butts attracted Tit's attention. (I don't mind. He can't help looking, and it's nothing to feel insecure about.) To me, the most tempting (to look at) creature on the ship was a tall, bleached blonde guy in a beige ribbed t-shirt and a pair of khaki pants, and leather loafers with no socks. He was very stylish, and furthermore he spoke with an English accent. He spent the whole time with a shorter, slightly less well-dressed dark-haired man in a light blue polo shirt. They drank coffee out on the hot observation deck and didn't show any signs of sweating. The bleached blonde wasn't exactly a siren, but I could imagine him singing, “You and me and the devil makes three, don't need no other lovin' baby,” like the sirens in O Brother, Where Art Thou?.

We met no Cyclops on this Odyssey. Not even a one-eyed Bible salesman. If we wanted adventure, the most we could have hoped for was a balloon-sword fight. It wasn't the boys this time. It was two girls dressed up in platform shoes and–well, dresses. Both of them had hats made out of twisted-up balloons. It reminded me of the creative headdresses worn by the girls (and later, the women) in The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. The girl in the bright pink dress had her pink hat pulled down over her face, rather like she was in a fencing match. So maybe it wasn't even a “fight.” It might have been more of a good-natured sport.

https://amzn.to/3JYxVpw


Earlier I thought I saw the same girls walking poodles made of balloons. Then I heard a pop. It may have been different little girls. My memory was slightly hazed by the combination of Dramamine and Champagne. I was a little sleepy for most of the cruise. I had about four cups of coffee (some of the best coffee I've ever tasted, by the way) and a Vanilla Coke in Chicago, but it didn't help me stay awake.

Other than the balloon poodles, the strangest creature on the ship was a black butterfly. It passed in front of me, then fluttered toward the shore.

I'll have to thank my parents for the cruise. The weather was pleasant, the view was nice, and the food was awesome. The jazz trio wasn't bad, either. I liked their take on the Marvin Gaye song “What's Going On.”

After the cruise (and despite drowsiness), we walked around downtown (we paid $18 to park in that Navy Pier garage, and we wanted our money's worth) and found the free newspaper New City. I love the clip art in this paper, and I sometimes enjoy reading the descriptions of out-of-the-way theater productions, independent films and art exhibits. Not much good in the July 10 issue, though. I think I should read The Effects of Living Backwards by Heidi Julavits, reviewed in the newspaper. [But I never did.]

https://amzn.to/3ObAFlU


Okay, now a word on the Ya-Yas. The movie stars Sandra Bullock as a NY-based writer with a very dysfunctional relationship with her Louisiana mother. The mother has three best friends, and the four of them make up the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. They have their own rituals, including drinking “blood” made of chocolate syrup, as well as a fierce loyalty to each other from childhood. They know all of each other's secrets, like the tragic death of Teensy's brother in the war. They know why the mother, Vivian, disappeared when her children were small, only to reappear months later with no explanation. It seems she had a terrible problem with alcoholism, which her doctors mistakenly thought they could cure with pills. 

I wish I could have seen the whole thing and paid it more attention, but I had to go take a shower and get ready for a family wedding.  

July 13, 2005: Third wedding anniversary! We took the South Shore to Chicago and visited Shedd Aquarium. We saw a giant Amazonian python, a tank with various species of shark, bioluminescent jellyfish, enormous crabs, white belugas, swimming penguins, and dolphins who understood sign language. Animals! Who understood a human language! That’s astounding!

Later we walked through the art gallery district, where we visited:

• Gwenda Jay/Addington Gallery

• Atria Kitchen Design

• Primitive Artworks

• Douglas Rosin Decorative Arts and Antiques

• Josephine 

• Galeria Gala

From there we hopped on the El, got off at the Berwyn stop, and went to Early to Bed, a sex-positive shop on N. Clark St. I’d seen advertised in Venus magazine. [Wikipedia: “Venus Zine was a quarterly internationally circulated magazine covering women in music, film, art, entertainment, literature, fashion, indie culture, and DIY culture. It was published from 1995 through 2010.”]

In the evening, we took a bicycle taxi to the Hancock Building, where there was no wait to ride the elevator to the 96th floor, the observation deck. We looked to the southwest and saw fireworks being launched from a boat off Navy Pier. Chicago has a large enough contingent of French citizens that it has a Bastille Day celebration, and Bastille Day is July 14th. 

July 13, 2010, Mishawaka: For our 8th anniversary, Tit and I ate breakfast at Carol’s, had lunch at Granite City, shopped at the mall, visited my parents, then had dinner at Bonefish Grill. 

July 13, 2014, South Bend: For our 12th anniversary, Tit and I went rafting on the East Race. We took two trips down the whitewater race in a rubber raft. I fell in once. Later we went for a tandem bike ride and stopped at Smith’s for a beer.

Monday, July 13, 2020, Indianapolis: We didn’t go anywhere for our anniversary due to COVID-19 pandemic restrictions, but we did order Chinese food for delivery. The masked delivery driver left the bag of food on our front steps and insisted on getting back in his car before we opened our storm door to get the food. These are the kinds of precautions we have to take when a highly contagious, potentially deadly virus is going around. 

Tuesday, July 13, 2021, Indianapolis: On a recommendation from our friend Hadya, Tit and I went to Union 50 on Mass Ave. for our anniversary dinner. It’s literally an old union hall converted into a fancy restaurant. We sat outside on the patio and ordered such things as a meat and cheese board with pimiento cheese, beet salad, and a braised lamb shank. We got carrot cake to go.

Thursday, July 13, 2023: This is what we're doing today: