The Death of a Legend: 30 Years Later

 Just a few months ago, I wrote about what would have been Freddie Mercury's 75th birthday.  On November 24, 1991, Freddie Mercury passed away due to pneumonia, a complication of AIDS.  Freddie's health had been declining for years, though he never disclosed it to the public.  Just the day before, he put out a statement to the press confirming that he was diagnosed with AIDS.  There was widespread speculation that Freddie did have AIDS, but he was hesitant to share his diagnosis.  Sadly, Freddie purportedly lost his sight towards the end of his life, and he was gravely ill.  

I was in high school in the fall of 1991 and was concerned with high school things.  And as I shared in my last post, I came of age musically when Queen was not as prevalent as they were in the late 70s and early 80s.  I remember his passing, but I do not remember as much as I would have liked.  I was preoccupied with my own teenage worries.  And as I am about to talk about, Freddie became even more revered and respected after his passing.  Thankfully, I do remember that there was not a lot of backlash and unkindness.  Unfortunately, there was no shortage at the time of discrimination against the LGBT community.  People here in America believed that AIDS was a consequence of a "sinful lifestyle" and were not compassionate towards those who were afflicted.  Yet, I do not remember a lot of that.  I just remember a lot of reporting, for which I am grateful.

Right around that time, Bohemian Rhapsody surfaced in the movie Wayne's World and enjoyed a resurgence in popularity in the United States.  In April 1992, there was a tribute concert at Wembley Stadium with proceeds going to AIDS charities.  It was a grand tribute, with Elton John, David Bowie, George Michael, Metallica, Def Leppard and U2 among its performers.  The remaining members were not sure how the band would continue without Freddie, but they did release his final recorded album in 1995.  As the years passed, it seems like Freddie's talents were regarded as some of the best of all time.  He was rated second as the best lead singer/frontman of all time by both Rolling Stone and Billboard.  A whole new generation of fans would see videos of Freddie's performances and realize his brilliance.  I was one of them.  I never realized how amazing he was at the time, but I was probably too young to understand the nuance of performance.  I cannot tell you how many times I have rewatched Radio Gaga's performance at Live Aid since it became available.  

Freddie's life was portrayed in the 2018 movie Bohemian Rhapsody.  While some of it was fictionalized, it was still highly respected and nominated for numerous awards.  Rami Malek, who in and of himself is an amazing talent, won an Academy Award for his portrayal of Freddie.  He stated in an interview that he studied Freddie's Live Aid performance for months so that he could fully get down his mannerisms, and he did.  Even though it was fictionalized at times, I just loved the movie because it was a wonderful, talented actor who did his absolute best to give credit to his subject.  Freddie's music lives on and on through the radio, videos, and online.  His fellow bandmembers contributed to AIDS charities after his death and are still deeply affected by his passing.

November 24, 1991 will always be a dark day in musical history.  No matter where Freddie ends up on any major lists, there will never be another Freddie Mercury.  He was bold, original, and larger than life in his own unique way.  He was comfortable being the queen that he was and dared boldly to bring his style of showmanship to the stage.  There may be some who come after him, but there will never be anyone quite like Freddie.

Godspeed.  You will forever be frozen in time.

Mental Health, Respectful Dialogue, and The Urge to Diagnose Someone

 

Today is World Mental Health Day, where countries across the globe are taking the opportunity to spotlight the struggles, hope, and lives of those who live with a mental health diagnosis.  Organized by the World Health Organization, this year they are focusing on the effects that COVID-19 has had on mental health.  Sadly, things like depression, anxiety, and substance abuse have skyrocketed during the pandemic, with good reason.  People have been isolated, millions have lost jobs, millions of people lost a loved one, friend, or colleague during the pandemic.  All those things take a heavy toll on the lives of people across the globe.  Here in the United States, we have always had trouble with proper access to mental health treatment.  Long waits for providers, difficulties with finding a provider who accepts certain insurances, a lack of providers in certain areas, have all contributed to the problem.  When people cannot freely access treatment in a timely manner, their problems are only made worse.  In addition, we have seen a very sad and unfortunate rise in substance abuse disorders over the last 15-20 years.  All of these things are a crisis, and we need to continue to be vigilant about advocating for those who need treatment.  As someone who previously worked in the field of mental health, this is always a topic which means a lot to me and I will always use my voice to promote. 

There is also a stigma about mental health issues, and while we are doing much better, there is still a long way to go.  Past generations did not believe in therapists or seeking treatment.  Some believed that mental health problems did not exist.  Even today, people are not recognized as having an illness, they are deemed “emotionally weak” or “too sensitive.”  You are told to “get over it” or “pull yourself up by the bootstraps.”  Tune into any sitcom and you will hear jokes about mothers being blamed for everyone’s problems.  That is the perception of mental health to many people.  Some religions such as fundamentalist Christianity and Scientology deny the existence of mental health problems.  You are told that you have a “spiritual problem” and are discouraged from seeking or flat out denied access to mental health treatment.  There is still a lack of understanding about what mental health disorders really mean.  Some people do not understand the difference between normal human emotions and an actual diagnosis in which an individual is struggling so much that it affects their ability to function properly. 

And then there are also the unconscious stigmas.  One of those stigmas is language.  Increasingly, we are using terms in our daily language which are insensitive to those who genuinely do suffer from a mental health disorder. Using these terms do not properly describe a diagnosis and lead to misunderstanding.  This is nothing new, I have heard this language my entire adult life.  People use the words “bipolar” and “schizophrenic” on a regular basis to describe others’ behavior.  To the best of my knowledge, when non-clinicians are using the world “bipolar” it means that someone is having a mood swing.  The reality is that bipolar people do have mood swings, but they are longer and more pronounced than someone without it.  There is a build up to what is called a “manic” state, where an individual can engage in high-risk behavior, go on binges where they spend exorbitant amounts of money, speak rapidly, not sleep, and have a sense of invincibility.  Individuals do not immediately move out of this state; someone can be in a manic state for a week or more.  If they are not treated with medication, it can last over several months.  When that individual does come down from the episode, then extreme depression does set in.  People with bipolar disorder cycle back and forth between these two extremes.  As you can see, it is not just someone with a passing mood swing.  As far as the term “schizophrenic,” I have heard that used when someone is changing their minds about something, acting similar to someone being described as bipolar in which their moods are shifting, unpredictability, and any other unexplained behavior.  Schizophrenia is, in my opinion, one of the most severe and tragic of all mental health disorders.  Those who live with schizophrenia can experience hearing voices, seeing things or people who are not there, and have trouble distinguishing between actual reality versus what is occurring inside of their minds. Individuals diagnosed with schizophrenia can become extremely paranoid as well.  In severe cases, it can lead people to act out in ways up to and including physically harming themselves or someone else.  As severe as this illness is, it is not anything to use in casual conversation.  More importantly, it is not a good idea to label people’s behavior with their diagnosis.  Imagine if you had a conversation with someone and they said, “I saw John today, and he was acting very cancer.”  Or “I ran into Mary at the grocery store, and she was acting diabetic.”  Even though there are certain behaviors associated with a mental health diagnosis, it is important not to personally label people with those terms.  An individual should be defined by who they are, and not their diagnosis. 

Another thing that I see on the rise are people who instantly “diagnose” others with a mental health diagnosis.  I am increasingly hearing people say things like, “So-and-so is on the spectrum.”  Autism has exploded in its diagnosis throughout the past 20 years or so.  As our understanding of autism increases, we find that it occurs on a scale.  Some individuals may have mild symptoms, others severe.  The term “spectrum” has been used to describe several different distinct types of autism.  It is impossible for anyone to meet another individual and proclaim five minutes later that the person is “on the spectrum.”  When meeting an individual with autism, they may present themselves as “quiet” or “withdrawn” but those behaviors can be ascribed to millions of other people as well.  That does not necessarily mean they are diagnosed with autism.  Or they may not.  Individuals with autism can present themselves in many ways, including extroversion. Autism is a complex disorder in which an individual has trouble communicating with others, especially about their emotions.  In severe cases, those with autism may rarely speak.  Thus, it is very important to understand the full diagnosis of autism without immediately rushing to judgement about someone’s behavior. 

Narcissism is a word that is freely thrown around in today’s society.  In a sense I can understand that, because there are certain mass behaviors that could be considered “narcissistic.” Generally speaking, narcissism simply means self-love and adulation.  Narcissism also means that someone is so self-consumed that they fail to see the humanity and needs of others.  Sadly, that is a basic human behavior that has existed as long as mankind has.  It will continue.  In today’s society, people’s love of social media, particularly posting pictures of themselves excessively, could be considered narcissistic.  Even though we all have a right to express our opinions, there are countless millions of people who believe that their voice is more important or more informed than others.  They will take to media such as Twitter, Facebook, or YouTube to let everyone know what they think.  Others have full channels devoted to the exploits of their lives and families.  A lot of us feel like other people’s families are not that interesting but apparently, they are, as these channels do enjoy a lot of success.  You give people a camera and a platform to be seen on, and they sure use it.  I believe that because of this, people throw the term narcissism around freely.  There are thousands of YouTube videos devoted to the subject, and it is something where people tend to pronounce someone as narcissistic.  Most times, it is seen with people who are famous.  So many times over I have seen Bachelor contestants, Survivor contestants, other reality show contestants, etc. being described and diagnosed as narcissistic.  Reality television are not proper demonstrations of a person’s complex behaviors and cannot be taken seriously.  And while narcissism can be a behavior which alienates a lot of people, it often does not rise to a clinical level.  There is an actual diagnosis of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Here is a description of how it is diagnosed:

Narcissistic-Pathology-Quotes-Handout.pdf (drcachildress.org)

 

Because these people have such an inflated sense of self, they will rarely be found in psychotherapy.  It is very difficult to treat for that reason.  There are certain famous individuals who are speculated to have NPD, including Tom Cruise.  While I do think that there is that possibility, it is only conjecture.  I have two individuals in my own life who meet 4 of the 9 criterion for NPD.  Trust me, they are very difficult to deal with, one more than the other.  (How these two are in relationship to one another is something I will not touch with a ten foot pole.)  -foot pole.)  But, I am not proclaiming them “narcissists.”  Realistically, nobody should be diagnosing anyone, either.  Yes, human behavior can get messy and unwanted.  And no, it does not mean that someone with an education in psychology or social work has all of the answers and is on a different plane than others.  But we generally need to be very careful about “diagnosing” others because it is a slippery slope.  It promotes misunderstanding of complex mental health issues.  And it is really not ethical or kind to make snap judgements about people’s behaviors.

In conclusion, how can you best help someone you suspect may have a mental health disorder?  The first and most important thing you can do is treat them with kindness and respect.  When someone is feeling depressed or anxious, they need to feel like others are on their side and care and will respond in kindness and non-judgement.  More importantly, you can encourage them to connect with a therapist or psychiatrist.  If they need you to, go with them to their first visit or babysit their children so that they can go to their first visit and have uninterrupted time.  It can be very fearful or intimidating the first time someone seeks professional help for a suspected mental health disorder.  So, if you can support that person, please do so.  Make sure to follow up with that person and let them know that you are always there to talk to them and will be an ally in their journey towards recovery.  Person by person is how we will create a world in which those who have a mental health diagnosis will thrive. 

 

 

 

 

Synchronicity

 There are very few among us who believe that life is a series of random events.  Different religions and schools of thought call it different things.  I used to hear a lot of, “It’s a God thing!” in my evangelical days.  Spiritual teacher Deepak Chopra believes that coincidences are a gift from the Universe.  As a student of Carl Jung, I tend to like his simple yet effective term at things that are not just random, that seem to be of some sort of higher design.  He called it “synchronicity.”  The definition is very simple, two words that are very powerful-meaningful coincidences.  Carl Jung believed in a level of consciousness which allowed humans to be interconnected with each other and the world around them.  Me personally, I am at the time in my life where I have issues with Christianity but still feel the presence of something.  I like the idea of feeling that there is something operating at a greater level which I do not have to refer to as happening from the Biblical god.  And so, this definition is desirable to me. 

But what really is synchronicity?  It is the idea that two different phenomena-physical (from the world around us) or psychological (dreams, understanding, etc.) collide in someone’s life to bring them some sort of answer, some sort of gift, or in some other way affects their life in a meaningful way.  It doesn’t have to be some life-altering revelation, although you never know what could be.  In fact, he came up with the idea when he was working with a patient.  The patient described having a dream about a scarab-an insect which was more native to the warmer climates than his.  On that same day, a scarab collided with his window, and he found the idea very fascinating.  Apparently, his patient was not responding to her treatment or had somehow become stuck in her progress.  But this prompted Jung to explore the idea, and a positive one, that there are meaningful coincidences in this life that could add enrichment to someone’s life.  Could patients be helped?  Could people find answers to complex problems?  Were things just random on this earth, or was some greater force involved?  Jung believed that such events only helped the person experiencing synchronicity.

Synchronicity can also occur between people.  Some people report “knowing” immediately that they will have a strong connection to another, whether it is a friend, a spiritual person, or romantic partner.  And the ways that those special people come into our lives is not just by mere coincidence.  There was something greater at work.  Some people do have very strong connections to each other and know when the other is having trouble, something might have happened, etc.  People who have strong connections to each other like significant others, twins, longtime friends, family members, can all experience some sort of feeling or knowledge about the other.  They have more than just a basic understanding of what is happening.  They really know deep down on some level not known to most about the one they care about. 

I have had a lot of synchronicity events in my life, probably too many to list on here.  But I will talk about some examples just as recently as the other day.  As far as people, I had an acquaintance of mine who maybe I was not super close to, but I respected tremendously.  This person added something positive to my life.  Unfortunately, they lost their job a few years ago.  When I heard about it, I had this sense that they were going to switch careers and end up in a totally different career.  I even knew what industry it was.  I’ll be damned if it happened, and I wasn’t too far off about the place where they eventually became employed.  I kind of even spooked myself after that because it was way too weird that I had essentially “known” it.  I also had a relative who when they were a juvenile, did something stupid and committed a minor crime.  I was away from home when it happened attending a seminar, but I developed this tremendous headache.  It was painful, and it was like something had come over me.  When I got home, everyone seemed tense, and I didn’t know why.  Nobody wanted to say anything.  Eventually it was disclosed, but my body was apparently sensing something.  And then there were the numerous times which I wrote about in another post where I knew someone was no good, only to have them prove they were indeed no good.  Murderers included. 

As far as myself, I have gotten a lot of wisdom and answers to things that have troubled me, or I didn’t have a good answer for at the time.  But especially of late, I have been shown things that have reflected on how I was feeling at the time.  I have had some very difficult challenges in my life which can sometimes leave me feeling like the future is uncertain, and I was having that feeling very strongly a few months ago.  I journaled about it and the very next night, I watched a television program where another person was struggling with those very same beliefs.  I looked at them and realized that the way they were describing their life was unnecessarily negative.  I could absolutely see no reason for that to be true about this person.  And I realized that what they were saying was a mirror of myself.  I was given that to see that how I was feeling was not based in reality.  But I had to see it in someone else.  That event was given to me, in my opinion, for that very reason.  Just this past week or so, I have had to confront the realities in my life about some of the things I had planned did not happen the way that I wanted them to, and in the time frame I expected.  Some of it was due to bad advice I was given, some was just me making the best choice I thought I had at the time, and it cannot be changed.  As synchronicity would have it, I came across a podcast featuring a famous individual whose life experience had mirrored mine.  And I realized that I was not alone in my experience.  I felt the same way when I saw the aforementioned television program.  If I could sum it up in one sentence, it would be, “You are not alone.”  And how neat is that?  Whoever or whatever had enough compassion to bring me those messages, it sure was appreciated.  Whether that source is the Universe, some sort of loving deity that is not the nasty Biblical god, or something else, I just realized that some force did care to show me things about my life.

I love synchronicity events, and every time they happen, it makes me feel connected to the world around me.  It does make me believe in a higher power, or some force that cares enough to gift us with bigger things.  Believe me when I say, this doesn’t happen all the time.  One of the reasons that I left evangelical Christianity was because the idea that a god was always answering every prayer, every need, etc. did not even remotely come true.  I think times will come and go where we may not have our needs met by a deity, or too much time will take place between the answers we need and when we receive them.  But I still do believe that things like synchronicity show us that life is not random, and that there are special things in store for all of us.  If you are reading this, I encourage you to reflect on those meaningful coincidences you have encountered in your life with the same wonder I have found in mine.  

How They Dealt

 Note: All names have been changed.

Pete and Julia Curtis were my neighbors growing up.  I would venture to say they were in their late 50s/early 60s.  Pete always had pure white hair from the time I knew him.  He was what people would call "distinguished"-a nice looking older man, well-dressed, you still took notice of his looks.  If he looked good, Julia looked even better.  In my entire life, I do not remember anyone as put together as Julia.  She always had her hair fixed meticulously and mostly wore skirts with flowing chiffon and pretty blouses.  I could count on one hand the times that I saw her in slacks, and even those were dressy.  Pete and Julia were always kind to me and the other children in the neighborhood, especially Julia.  They sat on their porch unless it was too cold, and that was a liberal definition.  Sometimes my parents would talk to them and I would join them, and Julia always treated me with kindness and respect.  When I got older, Julia and I even volunteered together for a local charity.  Pete was absolutely the matriarch of the neighborhood.  He was well-liked, well-respected, and had a magnetism that drew people to him.  The Curtis children went to school with my parents and had children around our age.  They were a well-enough known family in my section of the city, and they were well-respected for a reason. Pete and Julia were also very active in their local church.  Julia often took me to her vacation Bible school, and I always enjoyed going with her.  They seemed like pillars of the community.

When I was a teenager, I remember taking a walk with my mother and crossing paths with a very attractive woman in her 50s.  My mother seemed to at least vaguely know her, and she exchanged pleasantries with her.  When we got back to the house, my mother proactively said to me, "That woman that we saw-she is Pete's mistress."  I was taken back.  When I was extremely young, the assistant pastor of our church was said to have had an affair, but I didn't know what that really meant.  Affairs to me were things that you saw on a TV show like Dallas, not real life.  Pete was the first example of me finding out that someone I liked and respected had a major personal flaw.  I remember asking something to the effect of how long it had gone on, and my mother really didn't know.  All she knew is that they were having an affair for a long time, and it did not show any signs of slowing down.

Mae was a relative.  Mae was a lovely, nurturing woman who kept an immaculate home.  I actually thought she might have had OCD because she cleaned her home 40 hours a week.  Aside from being a homemaker, Mae kept an active life.  She was a fan of archery and was actually very talented at it.  Mae also participated in her church and was very close with her family, both immediate and extended.  Mae and my mother were very close, and I often visited her home.  She was always kind to me, I loved sitting in her kitchen and she would serve us food and drinks.  Mae's husband was named Dennis.  Truth be told, I wasn't wild about him from child on up.  I had been around him at family functions when he was drinking too much and he could be rather obnoxious.  He would sometimes give slobbery kisses, and I didn't feel close enough to him to have him kiss me.  Maybe that was part of it.  Dennis was not a real looker by any stretch of the imagination.  But, I figured as long as Mae loved him, and they did have a full life together, that was all that mattered.

At the time that Dennis and Mae were still alive and in relatively good health, I was helping to plan a party for a relative at a local club.  It was an old-time club of yesteryear, the social kind that played music on a weekend and average working stiffs would go and enjoy a night of socializing.  I was working with an older woman named Bea to arrange the party.  Bea was not particularly a handsome woman by any stretch of the imagination.  She seemed a bit rough around the edges, and she was not a very articulate person.  Bea was nice to me, however, and I couldn't say anything bad about our interaction.  When my mother asked who I dealt with there, I told her.  She chuckled and said, "That's Dennis' girlfriend."  I said, "What?" in complete astonishment.  I asked how long that was going on, and she said for years.  I was an adult by that time, and the concept of affairs was not foreign to me.  So, it wasn't as surprising as it was when I found out about Pete.

Over my adult years, I learned that extramarital affairs are a very complex subject with different causes and outcomes.  There are indiscretions on business trips and there are long-term affairs like the ones that Pete and Dennis participated in.  And it takes two people to be in those kinds of affairs.  I realize that many long-term affairs are born out of one partner not getting what they are needing out of their marriage.  But knowing Julia and Mae, they were both such lovely women and I cannot believe that any man would want to have someone else in their lives.  Pete and Dennis were both very different kind of men, and Dennis' girlfriend was also a different type of woman than his wife.  But yet their behavior and actions are repeated by millions of individuals throughout time, character, and area.  Ancient religious texts addressed affairs, considering them sin or immoral behavior.

Mae passed away in 2005 or 2006, and Julia passed away only around 5 years ago.  They were part of the "Greatest Generation" born in the early decades of the 20th century.  There were much different rules for women at that time in our country.  I always wondered, did they know?  If I knew and my parents knew, Mae and Julia had to have known.  Most descriptions that I have heard about affairs is that the partner being cheated on could feel their partner becoming distant, pulling away, exhibiting unfamiliar behavior, etc.  But after years and years, they had to have settled into a "knowing" about their situations.  The bigger problem is that at the time, women were encouraged to tolerate their cheating spouses.  "A lady turns her head" and pretends it is not going on.  Jackie Kennedy was largely considered the classiest First Lady our country has ever had.  She was required to "turn her head" and let her husband have numerous extramarital affairs.  It had to have been humiliating for her.  We didn't have the technology of today that would have helped to bring something like that to the general public, yet it was well documented about the affair with Marilyn Monroe.  Jackie always conducted herself as a debutante should, and part of that was always putting on a face to the public.  But whether you were Jackie Kennedy or a housewife, you were required to be a "good wife" and put your shame and feelings aside.  And if the First Lady had to do it, then it was fine for everybody else.  That was so wrong.  Think of the Tammy Wynette song, "Stand By Your Man."  I have yet to hear a song called, "Divorce His Philandering Ass."  It was somehow considered virtuous that a woman stand behind a cheating husband.  When I think about this, who made these rules?  There has never been a shortage of patriarchy in American society. It was probably very convenient for men to be able to have these arrangements without it going against the grain of society.  Sadly, in those days, women did not have educations like subsequent generations of women and the options of work and self-support.  You might have been "stuck," especially if you had children.  This was a vicious cycle.

I do not know if Mae or Julia ever knew about their husbands' longtime affairs.  And for some people, no matter what gender they identify with, it may be acceptable to them.  We don't know.  Some individuals may know about their spouse's other partner and as long as they come home to them at the end of the night and give them some sort of at least physical security and care, they may not mind.  But, we are not talking about those kinds of marriages here.  We are talking about the overwhelming rule that women had to turn their heads and allow their husbands to have affairs. And that needed to be acceptable.  It should NEVER have been acceptable.  Most people who marry for love and in good faith are devastated by their partner's affair.  It is shameful that women were made to deny their grief, "hold their head high" and just pretend it was not happening.  I am grateful that we live in a different time now.  Divorce has become normalized in our society, and even though it is not ideal, it is sometimes necessary.  People are delaying marriage and seem to realize that you do not have to settle on a partner, that it is okay to wait for the right person rather than marrying at an assigned age or time as previous generations did.  Nobody, regardless of gender, needs to tolerate someone who does not take their marriage vows seriously.  I do believe that sometimes genuine accidents do happen, and I will be the first to acknowledge that making a vow to remain faithful when that meant maybe 60 or more years of your life may have been difficult.  But I also do believe that commitment and love are to be reciprocal.  If your spouse is giving their best, you need to give it return.

As for Mae and Julia, I will remember them fondly for the wonderful, kind, and classy women that they were.  

20 Years Later Part 2

 For the first part of this post, please go to: 

I woke up Wednesday morning in shock as most of us did.  Was this a bad dream?  Did this really happen the way that it did?  Are thousands of people missing and dead?  Some of my thoughts were with the people of the wonderful organization that I worked with.  Even though the likelihood of them being in the towers or near the area were slim to none, I hoped that everyone was okay.  So, I decided to call them.  It was quite eerie.  I got the three tones at the beginning of the call where your call cannot be completed as dialed.  But instead of first saying, "Please try your call again later" it said, "Your call cannot be completed due to an emergency in the area."  I would try again several times over on Wednesday, and I got the same message.  It seems like everyone just sat and watched coverage of the search and recovery work.  It seemed like all any of us could do.  It was hard not to look away from it.  The day before, many television stations suspended their coverage due to the national emergency, and it seemed like a lot of it was out of respect.  I went to bed on Tuesday night needing to watch an episode of I Love Lucy because everything was so overwhelming.  But as soon as I got up, I needed to just tune back into the coverage, because there were so many answers that we all needed to know.  Were people being found?  At the time, no.  Frantic loved ones were on any station they could get with pictures of their family members who were missing.  I saw some posters where the people were from Cantor Fitzgerald, and they said they were on the upper floors.  Sadly, we all probably knew that they did not make it because it was above the impact zone.  The whole world stopped.  Sporting events were canceled, schools were revisiting safety issues.  There were many pressing questions: would this happen again?  What would be the targets?  It did not seem safe to gather in large groups when we did not know if there were more attacks planned.  The most surreal part was that air travel came to a complete halt in the United States.  The sky was so quiet.  I never in my life looked up and did not see any contrails.  There was just an eeriness about the whole thing.  Everything that was happening seemed more like the plot of some bad thriller rather than reality.  But it was reality, and I am not sure that anyone was prepared for it.  I tried a few times again on Wednesday and Thursday to get through to my organization, but I got the same message over and over again.

On Friday morning, around 9:30, I tried calling the organization again.  Finally, someone picked up the phone.  It was a newer worker, so I introduced myself and said, "I am so sorry about what happened."  No sooner did that come out of my mouth than I started sobbing.  All the emotions that I felt over those past few days had come to the surface.  The woman was very kind and told me that it was okay, that many others who worked with them called and said the same thing.  She was very comforting.  The woman informed me that each night, a group of the core workers were going to Ground Zero with food, blankets, and water for the first responders.  I felt a sense of peace, because I knew that those very special people would be able to show the first responders love and compassion.  Maybe they would just talk to them, maybe they didn't have to say anything.  But, they would be there meeting someone's need.  After I got off the phone, I watched a national memorial service from Washington, D.C.  I was an evangelical Christian at the time, and Billy Graham was preaching.  He said that where the people were was so much better than earth, we would not want them back.  I suppose at the time that I found solace in what he said, although what a horrible way for people to have to go there.  Even then, I had my doubts and questioned the goodness of "God."  I certainly questioned what happened that day, why so many good and innocent people had to perish.  I never was one to say unequivocally that God was always good and that you could never question.  But that's a whole other story.  I got an email sometime earlier that said a national memorial was going to happen that night at 7 p.m. local time.  People were encouraged to light a candle and stand on their front porch.  So, I did.  I looked up and down my block and several others were as well.  I remember a group of boys in a car going by, cheering and yelling how they loved our candles.  

The next few weeks and months even though painful seemed like some very rich times.  We got to the VERY best of our country, our people, and how much they could rise to the occasion.  I saw so much kindness extended to the victims' families, especially their children.  Athletes were inviting them to be their guests when sports resumed.  I will never forget when NASCAR resumed racing at Dover, Delaware.  Lee Greenwood came and sang God Bless The U.S.A. It was a very special moment.  And then there was the resuming of baseball in New York.  Mike Piazza famously hit a homerun in the Mets first game back and was very emotional.  Everyone needed to feel a sense of normalcy, we needed to be reminded of the good times and simpler things that made our country great.  I saw story after story of citizens reaching out to others, being good to the victims' families, and even strangers who were not affected.  I felt a sense of comfort among all of the sadness knowing that so many people were pulling together.  We really were a unified country.  I remember that even though I was far removed from the loss of a loved one, it was still hard to feel happy and cheerful during the holidays.  It did not feel festive when so many others were suffering.  For my birthday, I was given a beautiful picture of the Twin Towers.  The morning of Christmas, I looked at them and prayed for all of the victims' families.  The holidays passed into winter, and then the spring.  Cleanup of the World Trade Center site was finished ahead of time.  I remember watching the ceremony.  Even now, 20 years later, some victims' remains are being identified for the first time.  

Nobody will EVER forget 9/11 if they were alive that day and old enough to realize what happened.  It was so affecting to me because it affected the city which was my second home.  I often wondered if I had crossed someone on the street, or spoke to them, or maybe been in their presence in some way who lost their life.  Those of us who did not lose a loved one eventually moved on from the grief we felt.  However, I cannot imagine what it is like to have to live the rest of your life having your loved one perish in such a horrible way.  I realize that those people who lost their lives would want for their survivors to be able to live and have a full, rich life because they are not able to anymore.  But I just cannot fathom how that would be possible.  As for the larger questions, I look back at how unified we were and wonder how it all became so lost.  We all have our theories.  But I wish, like many millions of other Americans, that we would get back to that sense of unity.  And I genuinely hope that we do not have another event like that to force it to happen.  In many ways, COVID was that event, and we are not a united country any more.  

My wish is that for those who continue to be affected, both physically and emotionally, that they will be able to at least find peace and physical wellness.  If I could talk to them directly, I would assure them that they are certainly not forgotten, nor their loved ones.  Plenty of us still care, and we will ALWAYS remember.  

20 Years Later Part 1

 New York City was a place that appealed to me as a young child.  Even though I had yet to visit, its mystique in movies, television shows, and the news made it seem like a magical place.  In 9th grade, I finally got to go for our class trip.  The minute we crossed through the Lincoln Tunnel into the city, I could feel the city's energy.  It was nothing like I ever got to experience before.  It felt alive, and so did I.  Our first destination that day was to the World Trade Center.  I didn't know much about it, I was more familiar with the Empire State Building.  But I was told it had great views, and everyone seemed excited.  That included me, until I realized we would have to ride a large express elevator to the 107th floor.  I had an elevator phobia when I was younger, and when we got there, I started to panic.  The lobby of the South Tower was beautiful-very pristine, flags surrounding the courtyard.  I would watch as hurried people got on the elevators to ride to their offices.  It was quite a bustling place.  I decided that I would be fine there just observing the workers rather than taking that big elevator up 100 stories.  When I asked the teacher in charge, he said, "Absolutely not, I am not letting you by yourself in New York City."  Fine.  I asked my best friend to stay down with me, and she agreed.  When I approached him about it again, he bluntly responded, "You're both going."  So, I joined the rest of the group and was zoomed away in the large freight elevator.  It was amazing how quickly it moved. In a little over a minute, we were at the observation deck.  When I got out of the elevator, I was fine.  I walked over to those famous oblong windows and looked down below me.  I could see some of the bridges, and it really didn't seem that far up, all things considered.  My teacher made a point to come over and check on how I was doing.  Happy and smiling, I said I was enjoying myself.  "See?" he said with a knowing smile.  I will always be grateful to him for pushing me beyond what I thought were my limits.  I had a chance to be in that beautiful tower on a nice early June morning.  I would go back to NYC the following year for another trip to a Broadway show.  And when I graduated from high school, my real mission to the city began.  One week after I graduated, I took a trip with my church to an organization which worked with the homeless throughout the city.  They were aligned with different charitable organizations. We worked in soup kitchens in the day, both inside and outside, and at night we would go out to Manhattan and pass out food, water, and blankets to those who were living on the streets.  It may have been one of the most significant weeks of my life.  Not only did I have the chance to see beyond my middle class upbringing, I got to truly understand things like suffering, poverty, untreated mental health issues, addictions, and the ineffectiveness of our country to properly deal with those who were falling through the cracks.  I would go back many times after that until I started to experience some health problems which made it difficult for me to go.  I fell even more in love with the city and its people.  It was my home away from home.  Part of me was always there.  

On the night of September 10, I was having a conversation with a good friend of mine about anxiety and phobias. I told her that sometimes it didn't make sense to me because I was struggling with panic attacks at the time and that I had been to the top of the World Trade Center.  The next morning, I woke up right around the time the first plane had hit the North Tower.  I knew nothing about it and turned on the show I would always watch to start my day-Little House on the Prairie.  The phone began ringing and ringing, and I got a call from a relative in the medical profession saying what happened. The medical communities up and down the East Coast were already on alert because they were expecting a mass casualty event which might cause non-emergency patients to be fanned out to other hospitals along I-95.  I turned on NBC and saw both towers on fire. I just thought there were two unrelated fires.  Then, I heard the commentary that two planes had hit the towers and that it was a terrorist attack. Everything after that started to unfold part like the plot of a movie and equally as horrific. It seemed like chaos-rumors of planes going missing, our nation's capitol in an evacuation crisis, people on the streets of NYC staring in horror.  It was confirmed that another plane hit the Pentagon and yet another one was still missing.  It also seemed like we were moving into mass hysteria.  Locally, there were rumors of low-flying planes passing over parts of our county.  Nationally, there was speculation on what was happening and the newsmakers thought that this could be a coordinated attack that was going to continue well into the day.  I got a call from a friend of mine who was living in Houston at the time.  Their emergency service was headed to NASA.  After that, I called my friend who I spoke to the night before and told her what was happening.  She had no idea as she was working in a small church office, and all she had there was a small radio.  But she listened along until the wise reverend, who was now in his senior years and had seen a lot of life, came into the office.  He was burdened by what he had seen, and she got to have a meaningful conversation with him about what was happening.  I told her how fortunate she was to have someone that wise to somehow make sense of the thing that made no sense whatsoever.  I was still talking to family members at their respective offices, some who did not have access to a television.  All the while, I was watching as the Pentagon was on fire, the massive black smoke, ambulances and emergency personnel carrying people away.  The coverage would shift back to New York City, where everyone was racing to control the chaos.  Early on, you saw a lot of firefighters driving past the reporters.  There was a lot of information going around, loads of speculation, but the towers were still standing.  The discussion was how to safely evacuate the people.  

And then it happened.  Part of the South Tower toppled to the side and the rest of the tower collapsed.  I was stunned.  People were running, journalists were ducking the cloud of dust overtaking them, and people were re-emerging covered in layers of heavy dust, choking, injured, and completely worn out.  I saw people literally running for their lives.  It almost did not seem real.  As we were trying to process what had just happened, the news came that a plane crashed in suburban Pittsburgh.  I was very concerned because an entire part of my family lived in suburban Pittsburgh.  Were they safe?  By 10:05 a.m., everything seemed like a nightmare, and there was no sign of it stopping.  Thankfully, all flights were ordered grounded and none were allowed into the United States.  But we still didn't know a lot.  It was slowly starting to sink in that there was going to be massive loss of life, that good, innocent people were killed in barbaric fashion.  It was still hard to process.  I felt like I was in a Twilight Zone episode, it almost didn't seem real.  Not in our country.  As journalists were trying to merely keep up with the news, there was just a casual observation that based on what just happened, the North Tower might be in jeopardy of falling down as well.  The camera I was watching was focused on the North Tower from a few blocks away.  I thought that I was seeing the transmission pole at the top of the building starting to move, and then it stopped.  All of a sudden, I saw it shift and start to move down as the North Tower imploded.  I almost could not believe it.  I yelled out, "Oh my god, that one collapsed too!"  The situation went from chaos to grim.  It seemed to get very quiet, and I will never forget the words of a stunned Tom Brokaw.  "The World Trade Center is...no more."  He talked about how there would be a massive loss of life and wondered how it could be managed.  It was downright chilling.  As journalists continued to cover the situation as best as they could, you could hear these high-pitched whistles going off.  I wasn't sure what they were.  It was later explained that they were whistles issued to members of the FDNY.  The part was that was so haunting is that you could hear them as reporters navigated through the debris.  The people they were assigned to were not there.  

As the afternoon moved along, those of us outside of the affected areas sat in stunned silence.  We were angry, on the verge of tears, already ready to retaliate and bring to justice whoever did this.  Several groups claimed responsibility, but it was believed to the work of Osama bin Laden.  Frantic family members began asking if anyone had seen their relatives.  A massive evacuation of lower Manhattan was underway while brave members of the FDNY began to search among the rubble for any survivors.  Initially, it was believed there would be a slew of survivors; they were few and far between.  One hour turned into the next.  By evening, we were starting to learn about some of the people who lost their lives.  I was immediately drawn to the story of Father Mychal Judge, the FDNY chaplain who lost his life as he prayed for people inside the South Tower.  Then I learned that David Angell and his wife were aboard Flight 11.  David Angell was a talented writer from many hit shows and was currently working on my favorite sitcom Frasier.  I couldn't believe it.  The man responsible for helping us laugh a little bit each week and forget our troubles had such a violent death.  The widow of Anthony Perkins, Berry Berenson was also on Flight 11, as was former NHL player Ace Bailey.  Family members with pictures of their loved ones clamored for time, asking the public to call if they had any information on their whereabouts.  A wall was gathering with their photos as well.  I spoke a bit to my friend who I told just the night before about the World Trade Center.  She said that it spooked her that day and wondered if I had some kind of premonition or something.  I said no, and I desperately wished that it was the only conversation I would have about it.  

I went outside as I always did around 11 p.m.  September evenings are the perfect time to look at the sky-the nights are getting cooler, and that whole day was referred to in aviation as a "severe clear."  The night was just as clear as the day.  There was a small sliver of the moon, it was in a crescent phase.  I just sat and stared at it.  Our whole world had fallen apart.  Yet the moon was still there-it was a constant.  The whole world could be falling apart, yet we would always see the same moon and stars.  I suppose I looked to the sky for answers, but there were none.  It is ironic in that for anyone like myself who sat out that night, the sky was the thing that morning which played such a big role in the tragedy.  Innocent people traveling to see loved ones, going on class trips, traveling for business, people who just thought they would have a routine flight and would be picked up at the airport by their loved one, met their fate in such a cruel and agonizing way on board those planes.  I went back in and would try and fall asleep but like many, I couldn't.  

The second half of this reflection will continue in part 2.  

75 Years of Freddie Mercury

 Zanzibar in the 1940s-what do you think of?  If you are like me, you have a hard time.  At the time, it was a colony of Great Britain.  Its residents included Bomi and Jer Bulsara, Parsi transplants from India who relocated there for Bomi's work with the British Colonial Office.  On September 5, 1946, Jer gave birth to a son Farrokh. Farrokh spent a few years in Zanzibar before being sent to India to attend school.  Young Farrokh learned music at an early age, learning to play piano and even starting a band with his classmates at the age of twelve.  The Bulsaras would flee to England in 1964 as a result of an uprising in Zanzibar in which ethnic Indians were killed.  Farrokh enrolled at and graduated from art school in 1969.  He worked odd jobs such as being a baggage handler at Heathrow International Airport while also joining local bands.  One year after graduation he teamed up with Roger Taylor and Brian May in a group called Smile.  The following year, John Deacon joined the band, which changed its name to Queen.  Farrokh also changed his last name to Mercury.  The introverted, somewhat shy young man came alive onstage, with performances that some might call bombastic, or theatrical, or outrageous.  Farrokh, who long gave up his birth name for Freddie, pushed his bandmates to embrace the daring.  The band had modest success in its early days, but they were fortunate in that they were well-regarded critically and were generously given use of a studio to record their music.

In 1975, the band who enjoyed somewhat modest success burst onto the scene with a song that their own record company soured on.  Bohemian Rhapsody was based on music that Freddie created while still in college.  Bandmate Brian May was a fan of the concept and gave the go-ahead for the group to proceed.  It was a song which took three weeks to record, relying on overdubs of the individual members singing.  Despite the criticism from their own record label, Queen was confident in their product and began playing it on radio stations.  A star was born in the band, and particularly in Freddie Mercury.  He quickly became known for his showmanship-energetic performances, elaborate costuming, and a way to connect with his audience that few artists at that time had.  The quiet, laid back man off the stage became a larger than life performer.  Freddie was partnered with longtime girlfriend Mary Austin, but he purportedly always questioned his sexuality.  Eventually, Freddie decided to part with Mary as a romantic partner, though he still considered her his "wife" in later years.  When Freddie decided to explore his sexuality, he was reported to have attended many parties, clubs, etc. and also purportedly did a lot of drugs. AIDS was discovered in 1981 and was found to be spreading in the gay community. Unfortunately, that meant that anyone who was having sex was at a high risk of contracting the disease.  Based on the reports of Freddie's sexual life, he had many partners and was a prime candidate for the disease.

In 1987, Freddie's worst nightmare became true-he was formally diagnosed with AIDS.  It was reported that he had symptoms as early as 1982 and suspected that he had the illness before his actual diagnosis.  Freddie struggled emotionally with the diagnosis; he was very private about his health and was said to have grieved tremendously.  Still, he continued to work and remain an active part of Queen.  The band would record Freddie's final album in 1991.  That June, he became too weak to continue.  The last few months of Freddie's life, he was confined to his home.  Freddie reportedly lost his vision and was in tremendous pain.  On November 24, 1991 Freddie lost his battle and passed at his home, surrounded by those who loved him most, former partner Mary and good friend Dave Clark among them.  Freddie's death was significant in that he was the first major celebrity to die of AIDS related illness.  

As for me, I came of age musically towards the latter half of the 1980s.  Of course, I knew We Will Rock You as most people did who attended or watched a sporting event.  But Queen's music never really registered with me because by that time, some of their greatest hits and success were behind them.  Around the time of Freddie's passing, they became popular again with Wayne and Garth bashing their heads to Bohemian Rhapsody.  I never knew too much about Freddie personally, particularly his sexuality.  I remember distinctly that two of his other fellow Brits-Elton John and George Michael, were still in the closet.  However, there was very public speculation about their sexuality.  I vaguely remember at the time of Freddie's passing the discussion of his sexuality.  I think the general consensus was that nobody was "surprised" at his passing, but thankfully I do not remember much moral outrage.  Being gay was still very much scorned upon and judged, particularly in the United States, at that time.  I still do not remember a lot of condemnation.  Freddie was so well-respected for his artist, and for that I am grateful.  

When I became an adult, I grew to appreciate Freddie and his life.  What I love about him so much is his boldness and confidence onstage.  This otherwise quiet man had a side of him that not only came alive onstage, but thrived in a way that few others of his artists did.  Freddie knew exactly who that side of him was and allowed himself and his fans to experience every second of it.  He was an original and dared to show that  side of himself to massive audiences.  When it was announced that a movie about Freddie's life was being made, and that it would star Rami Malek, I couldn't have been more overjoyed.  Rami is one of my favorite actors from his Mr. Robot days, and every character he portrayed was to perfection.  Even though the movie was in many ways fictitious, Rami absolutely embraced the life and person of Freddie and won many rightfully deserved awards for it, including an Academy Award.  I could tell how much Rami respected Freddie, and you probably couldn't have picked a better person to portray him.

More importantly, I loved who Freddie Mercury was as a person.  There were so many facets to Freddie's gem.  I am attracted to people who know who they are, every bit of themselves, and Freddie personified that.  Off stage, Freddie was the sensitive person who was a cat father.  Freddie and Mary's relationship dared to explore the complex relationship of gay men and the women who love them for anyone who cared to pay attention.  I know from close friendships with gay men that they do love the women in their lives, and very deeply.  A lot of people do not understand that.  They do not understand that your "soulmate" does not necessarily have to be your romantic partner.  Freddie and Mary were wise enough to understand that.  Freddie also understood that while he was by nature an introvert, there was part of him that was a complete deity waiting to come out onstage.  He was wise and confident enough in himself to let that part of him shine. He was both a composer and interpreter of music.  Freddie understood exactly who he was and shared his full self with the whole world. I have always felt a kinship with Freddie because of that reason.  I am also an introvert who has many facets to me, and it is one of the things I appreciate most about myself.  

It was widely speculated that Freddie would have survived his diagnosis if the proper medicine was available to him at the time.  AIDS is not a death sentence in the 21st century, far from it.  For many of us, Freddie is frozen in time.  He will forever be the young man with so much energy, with the looks of many characters, moving across the stage and dazzling us with his lyrics, beautiful voice, and presence.  I have often wondered what life would have been like for Freddie if he had lived longer.  I suspect it would have been more of what he did best.  He never slowed down despite his diagnosis, and I think he would have still continued creating his music, toured, and blessed us with the gift that is Freddie Mercury.

Happy 75th birthday, beautiful and wise soul.