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by Pam YoungA Simple Twist Of Fate...
Life And Death
In The City That Care ForgotJoan Baez once sang, in a song entitled "Simple Twist of Fate," the following lines: "People tell me it's a crime, To feel too much at any one time." If this be so, then we are all disobeying the law, especially after the senseless murder of one of our own on the street where he lived...actually inside his own door.
The French Quarter community, the Gay community, the hospitality industry are all feeling a great deal because of the loss we suffered. It is sad; it is one of life's cruel twists; it mustn't happen again. But it will.
That's the tragedy. We all KNOW that it will happen again and we are railing against the injustice of it, as well as reeling from the pain of unexpected violence. But what of yet another whose life is lost-what will his sacrifice come to stand for in this mean city of crime and inhumanity?
This man spent his life promoting this city; now we must do all that we can to reclaim the city that he loved. We must not let this most recent murder fall quietly from page one of the newspaper to become just one more statistic. In fact, there is an important lesson to be learned that I am sure Kevin Wooldridge would want us to learn: Live life to its fullest.
Yes, live life to its fullest...as ourselves, no matter who that might be...ever striving to reach our goals, never waiting until tomorrow to start living.
How many of us really make an effort to live each day as if it were our last. Oh, there is always tomorrow to see that friend, always next year to start that project. But what if you knew you had only 12 minutes to live and at the end of that time your life was going to be taken from you for no reason, just because of a simple twist of fate. How would you live then? What messages would you leave? Who would you have touched that morning? Would you have noticed the sunrise? Or the single bloom on the azalea bush on the balcony next door? It is so hard for us to remember our mortality-the fragility of life-the thin layers of skin, muscle and bone that protect our vital organs from destruction in a world that has speeding cars, stray bullets, and sudden catastrophes awaiting us.
I imagine Kevin and his partner going out that evening to walk the dog after a long day of talking to people about the city we live in. You see, Kevin worked, like many of us do, in the hospitality industry of this city and his job was to "be" New Orleans to those who would come to visit her.
And it is at this point that I WILL my imagination to stop. I cannot bear to think of the moments that followed. The terror of being accosted on the street by strangers bent on no good, the instant spent in trying to get away, the turmoil, the sounds of gunfire, last thoughts of families, friends, significant others, the sadness, the suffering, maybe even thoughts of unfinished business or unpaid bills. And then dying in his lover's arms, his life expiring without so much as a two week notice.
Life can be so ordinary, except under extraordinary circumstances. So it is that we have to take the time now to think about the extraordinary aspects of life and living...the joy of it all, the sorrow we would push away...the pain of loss...the anger of senseless killing. What could this innocent man have possibly meant to these abhorrent murderers who in some instant decided that a foiled robbery must be turned into a murder...that a life must be stolen...taken from one to whom it belonged all because he and his partner dared to resist.
Now it is not my intention here to cause any further pain. But what will it take for the violence in this city to stop? When will it be safe to walk our dogs in the early evening, or to stroll home after work in the city we love without fear? Not only must we take steps as a society to stop the violence; we must also promise ourselves to make each and every minute of our lives count. Who would have dreamed that this would be the last moment of a life too soon taken? What were Kevin and Doug talking about as they walked out of their safe home and into the violent streets of New Orleans?
None of us expect to never return home again when we leave for school or work or just to take a walk in our neighborhood. But it happens...and not just to some faceless "them" we read about in the newspaper...but to people we know, and even to ourselves. So what do we do now? What can be done to stop the violence? How can we insure our lives, our happiness? Well, the truth of the matter is that there is no insurance...even life insurance is a misnomer because you can't collect on it until you are dead...actually YOU never will collect on it at all.
Today, with the memory of the Kevin's death so fresh in our minds, we are probably making all sorts of plans to insure our safety. But what about next week, or next month? What will we be doing then as we go about our daily routines? Grumbling about the weather, or the Saints, or the rent as we hook the dog's lease on his collar? Will we think that we may not return safely to our lives because of the arbitrary violence that lurks outside our door?
Kevin Wooldridge's life touched many of us in the city that he loved and many who only came here to visit...what will we remember not to forget because of his death?
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