I’m down in Buffalo again, and while I’m here, I try to spend as much quality time with each of my parents as I can. Last Thursday night, Dad and I were upstairs in his bedroom, watching an old Jimmy Stewart movie I’d never seen before (and I thought I’d seen them all), and after it was over, I went downstairs to check on Mom. She and the nurse were rapt in attention, watching live local coverage of the crash of Continental Fl. 3407, which had occurred in Clarence Center, N.Y. perhaps an hour earlier. All I could see on the television screen was the blinding glow of burning jet fuel. A chill went up my spine, because I suddenly had a déjà vu moment bringing me back to the morning of September 11th, 2001, when Shauna and I watched the events of the day unfold on CNN. While I didn’t suspect any foul play in this accident, I got the same eerie feeling I always get when I don’t yet have any solid information. It was so strange to be only about ten miles away from where the disaster occurred. I knew that there were going to be casualties, but not until the next morning did I find out how bad it really was. All I kept seeing was that inferno of burning jet fuel.
Shauna called first thing Friday morning from up North to ask if the crash was anywhere near where my parents lived. I assured her it took place well east of Downtown Buffalo. She’d been watching the overage on CNN. I turned on the tube and it was then that I learned 50 people had perished in this crash. Miraculously, two out of the three residents in the home into which the aircraft had crashed survived. The plane made a direct hit on the house, and it is a miracle that anyone got out of that mess alive.
That night, Dad and I sat in his bedroom and watched the struggling Buffalo Sabres play the league-leading San Jose Sharks. It was a roller coaster of a game; the Sabres were up a few goals early on, but then they were playing catch-up in the second half of the game, fighting to stay in the game near the end. In the last thirty seconds of regulation time they rallied to tie it up, and went on to win the game in a very dramatic overtime shootout. I was thankful to see such an exciting game with Dad. Over the years, I attended so many Sabres games with him in the now-half-demolished Buffalo Auditorium (see photo above). I thought it was fitting that the struggling Sabres gave their fans such a big win on the night after such a horrible disaster had rocked the community. Perhaps I’m reading too much into this David and Goliath win, but to me it was symbolic of characteristics I have always attributed to my home town. Despite a disparaging write up in a recent Forbes Magazine article, despite all the shenanigans of local politicians, despite the notoriously bad weather, which is actually something I like about WNY, Buffalo is still, in my mind, the City of Good Neighbors, full of friendly, good people, who come together when the chips are down.
Dad asked me to pick up some Valentine candy for Mom which he presented to her Saturday morning, along with an appropriately amusing card. They dined together that night in his bedroom and, while it was hardly a romantic candlelight dinner (beef stew “a la Jamie”), it was comforting to know that the two of them were sharing this universal holiday of lovers. After the tragic events of last week, I remind myself of the serendipitous nature of life. Some of us celebrate almost sixty Valentine’s with our partners, and some of us have our lives cut short. Much as we delude ourselves that we are in control of our destinies, none of us really are. Nobody knows how many exciting Sabres games he or she gets to watch. As my deceased brother-in-law used to say, “Don’t postpone joy”. These days, I take joy wherever I can find it. - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2009 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Shauna called first thing Friday morning from up North to ask if the crash was anywhere near where my parents lived. I assured her it took place well east of Downtown Buffalo. She’d been watching the overage on CNN. I turned on the tube and it was then that I learned 50 people had perished in this crash. Miraculously, two out of the three residents in the home into which the aircraft had crashed survived. The plane made a direct hit on the house, and it is a miracle that anyone got out of that mess alive.
That night, Dad and I sat in his bedroom and watched the struggling Buffalo Sabres play the league-leading San Jose Sharks. It was a roller coaster of a game; the Sabres were up a few goals early on, but then they were playing catch-up in the second half of the game, fighting to stay in the game near the end. In the last thirty seconds of regulation time they rallied to tie it up, and went on to win the game in a very dramatic overtime shootout. I was thankful to see such an exciting game with Dad. Over the years, I attended so many Sabres games with him in the now-half-demolished Buffalo Auditorium (see photo above). I thought it was fitting that the struggling Sabres gave their fans such a big win on the night after such a horrible disaster had rocked the community. Perhaps I’m reading too much into this David and Goliath win, but to me it was symbolic of characteristics I have always attributed to my home town. Despite a disparaging write up in a recent Forbes Magazine article, despite all the shenanigans of local politicians, despite the notoriously bad weather, which is actually something I like about WNY, Buffalo is still, in my mind, the City of Good Neighbors, full of friendly, good people, who come together when the chips are down.
Dad asked me to pick up some Valentine candy for Mom which he presented to her Saturday morning, along with an appropriately amusing card. They dined together that night in his bedroom and, while it was hardly a romantic candlelight dinner (beef stew “a la Jamie”), it was comforting to know that the two of them were sharing this universal holiday of lovers. After the tragic events of last week, I remind myself of the serendipitous nature of life. Some of us celebrate almost sixty Valentine’s with our partners, and some of us have our lives cut short. Much as we delude ourselves that we are in control of our destinies, none of us really are. Nobody knows how many exciting Sabres games he or she gets to watch. As my deceased brother-in-law used to say, “Don’t postpone joy”. These days, I take joy wherever I can find it. - Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2009 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
1 comment:
Almost 60 years, well that is something very special. Mom and Dad will have their 50th this summer!
Yes it was terrible about the recent crash, but a miracle about teh other reent one where all survived. You just never know, live life to the fullest every day I guess.
Just a Jannie passing through. Found you through our common Songwriting tag here.
Post a Comment