In the past family and friends have suggested that I write a “memoir” or simply a story of my past. In addition, over the years (now #14) of these writings readers have commented about enjoying more my reminiscing about past incidences rather then my meandering book reviews and philosophizing. Such stories of past happenings are classified as ‘memoirs’; at least I thought so until I recently read an essay on ‘memoirs’. It was entitled “Misery Loves a Memoir”. The point of the essay was that present day memoirs all seem to be stories of recovery from addictions, abuse or some mental illness or handicap. The writer says it this way: “Suffering produces meaning. Life is what happens to you, not what you do. Victim and hero are one” He points to a best seller, “Running with Scissors” which is to him, “a stew of just about all the above ingredients.” Which seems a bit like saying things happen to you and they’re inevitable and you can do nothing about it! Granted things do happen to you that you can neither predict nor wish for but even then you can do ‘something’ about it. He was complaining about people who think memoirs are only stories about overcoming some disaster, etc. He then points to some of the classics, like St. Augustine’s “Confessions”, Wordsworth’s “Prelude” and the most famous one in English, Thoreau’s “Walden Pond” He notes that no one has ever referred to “Walden Pond” as a memoir. It is the reminiscing of the author as he spends two years alone near the pond contemplating the present state of society. It is certainly a ‘memoir’ and his examining society and its ills. Some quotes I like were “trade curses everything it handles” and “The world is a place of business. What infinite bustle! I am awakened almost every night by the panting of the locomotive. It interrupts my dreams. There is no Sabbath! It would be glorious to see mankind at leisure for once. It is nothing but work, work, work”. These remarks had to been written sometime around the 1850’s. I wonder what he would have to say about our conduct these days?
The essayist had a good point when he questioned, “Is there nothing more to life then recovery and grief? Is there no idea of the good life we can sustain beyond the possession of health?” I can certainly shout a loud ‘yes’. It is the ability to enjoy the simple things like a walk along the shore, a good meal; happy times with loved ones and the blessings of faith that make a life. The blessing of faith particularly makes possible the ability to face a ‘recovery’ and ‘grief’ with hope not despair. I can look back to some fourteen years ago when I, through the loving acts of my wife, was made to face the reality of being an alcoholic. I could write a memoir about that and it would apparently qualify as a today type of ‘memoir’.
What is the dictionary definition? It is an ‘account of the personal experience of an author’. So writing about overcoming an addiction would certainly qualify. The word memoir is a fancy one for autobiography. It requires the use of our memory. I have some strange times with mine. I can walk into a room seemingly to find something and can’t remember why I came. Yet, at the same time I can recall a marathon run in New York in 1971 the weekend we laid my Dad to rest.
Memory is a mystery. Recently a Harvard psychologist conducted a test to try to determine if child abuse memories were fact or fiction. The psychological word is “repressed” but later resurrected, i.e., the results of imagination. The outcry of many abused children, now adults and their supporters cause the psychologist to rethink her endeavor. So the next time she chose people with memories of alien seductions. She did so feeling the evidence of such happenings would be easier to prove or disprove. She was wrong. She was just as stridently attacked by fellow professionals and societies of ‘abductees’ that she gave up. It is all for her now just a ‘bad’ memory. The question of whether a memory of an event in our past was repressed or created seems insoluble, except to those with a cause to protect and promote such memories.
Memory is a part of our consciousness that has fascinated philosophers, physicians, and psychiatrist from the beginning of the known world. Augustine devoted a chapter to it in the book, “Confessions of St.Augustine”. The interest created in abused children with the discovery of the many pedophile priests, raised anew the strong question of fact – did it actually happen and the person repress it only to recall it years later, or did it all come from the imagination? Lawyers have experienced the reliability of memory in noting that even when several people view the same incident they report, many times, different facts, some even contradicting others. So it is good to remember that sometime our memory is not reliable. It is better when the matter is important that a memorandum be created to record the facts. I do that often these days especially when I take a trip, as we did recently, so that I can retell it in these writings.
June and I left St. Pete’s on Sunday October 15th and drove over to the East Coast to the city of St. Augustine. Like Savannah we had promised ourselves many times we would visit the East Coast and some of its highlights, but then again as we drove back into Florida down I-95 we turned “right” and headed home.
St. Augustine is full of history. It was the first place on this continent we call North America that a European stepped upon. (Unless you believe that Eric the Red from Norway or Sweden hopped over here before 1500) Ponce de Leon landed on the soil we now call St.Augustine and Florida in 1513. He was the founder and governor of Puerto Rico. He was looking for the ‘fountain of youth’. He landed in the area of the Timucua Indians and placed a cross into the ground being Spain’s first claim to North America. He found what he called the “Fountain of Youth” and is to day a preserved well. We were located on San Marco Ave. This is the main street for many of the historic sites It was just a short walk to the Matanza Bay. A block away from our motel was the Fountain of Youth Park. Across from our place was a restaurant called “Le Pavillion”. It sounded French but it was more continental serving both crepes and schnitzel Viennese style. It was a preserved house built in 1868. Down the street, where we dined Sunday night, was the “Raintree” restaurant. All the friends who have visited St. Augustine had recommended it. It too was an old house with a gate and garden, which you walked through to the front door. Just next door was one of June’s favorite spots, Dairy Queen. We had dinner from there one night, i.e., June has a blizzard and I had some soft ice cream. But we did more than eat in St. A’s. We took a trolley tour and used it Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. We visited the Fountain of youth Museum and could see why the 4’11’’ Ponce could have thought the water caused youth. The Indians there were 6 to 7 feet tall and lived to the 60’s and 70’s, while Ponce and the Europeans at that time lived to only 40 or so and stood about as tall as Ponce. He thought it was the water but what did it was their life-style and diet. I drank the water and it didn’t work so I too am convinced it was their life style. Along San Marco also was the Mission Nombre de Dios, the place where Pedro de Aviles Menendez landed and found the city of St. Augustine on September 18,1565 the feast day of St.Augustine, so that’s how it got its name. “Nombre de Dios” means, “name of God”. After landing the priest with them celebrated Mass and today it is a beautiful area for jut walking from the street to the bay. It has a large metal cross rising some 130 or so feet in the air, a memorial platform to stand on and look out over the Bay, and a chapel all located around the area. We enjoyed a walk there. Further down the street is the Fort Castillo de San Marcos, which is still standing after all these years and was never taken by the invading French and English. We spent three days there and could have spent a week more just to see the most popular and famous sites. We did go to the restored lighthouse some 175 feet up. We walked the 212 steps to the top. Our view was quick since there were nests of wasps settled around the top.
On Thursday we went down to Merritt Island just below Cape Canaveral. We dined out on Coca Beach by the Atlantic. The next day, Friday we spent the day at Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center. We took an afternoon tour, after two Imax movies in the morning, of the Cape and Kennedy Space Center. On the cape we saw the launching complexes where Shepherd and Glenn were launched into space. Then we went to the launching sites of the moon mission and ended the day at the Astronauts Hall of Fame. We could have spent many more days there as well as we could have in St.Augustine’s and still had more to see. Pax Tecum!