Thursday, September 07, 2006

Another one for the woodchipper

I am a creature of habit. Every day I take the same route to work and several times a year I take the family up to northern Michigan, using the same route over and over again. So nearly every day of the year I see the same memorials. Crosses that have been erected, I suppose, to mark the death site. Aside from musing as to why I never see stars of David or crescents at these memorial sites (neither Jews nor Muslims ever die along these routes??) I have wondered at the motivation behind constructing and maintaining these memorials (some have been in place for at least 15 years). Often, there were flowers at these sites, and by and by they died, and I found the image of dead flowers both sad and apropos. One memorial had prayer votives burning for weeks, while another featured a color picture of a young man, posing in his 8th grade graduation gown. But our weather beat it up and someone (or some force) removed it. Now there's just a weatherbeaten cross to mark the spot.

The wife and I have speculated as to the original intent of these memorials, and we have agreed that it was clearly part of a grieving process. We also agree that this original purpose over time has been superseded by the cautionary impact of these memorials. Someone (or in a few cases, two or three people) died here, perhaps because of a drunk driver, perhaps because conditions were bad, perhaps, because of careless or reckless behavior. So, while I doubt I'd ever construct such a memorial myself, I can rationalize a positive effect.

Last week a house fire snuffed out the lives of six children on the far north side of Chicago. Those of us who live here in the area have endured saturation coverage of this horrific event, and as the father of smallish children, I have refocused my attention to details like smoke detector batteries, home escape routes, keeping open flames to a minimum and flammable materials out of their reach. And of course, there is the inevitable memorial at the site of the fire. Tuesday's (9/5) Chicago Tribune featured a large full color photograph (registration required) of the memorial and I was struck immediately by the utter stupidity of at least one human being. There suspended on a wrought iron fence, hovering above the flowers and the potted plants was the single most disgusting and senseless contribution I've seen since Willie "Flukey" Stokes was buried in a Cadillac coffin -- a helium filled Tweety Bird.

Yes, that's right - Tweety Bird.

Now, I've seen teddy bears and other stuffed animals at these sites, and while I find them tacky, I can see them having a future existence in a pediatric hospital unit or perhaps kept by other family members as a reminder of a loved one.

But Tweety Bird?

I showed the photo to the wife and she immediately asked whose birthday was being celebrated. When I showed her the caption, she cringed.

"That's just awful."

We speculated that perhaps it was purchased by a child, and this could be forgiven, as children don't process death as adults do. But then I realized that an adult had to be involved in the process - had to accompany the child to the store to buy Tweety, bring the child to the site, tie Tweety to the fence. It affected me even more viscerally than reading the words of the woman who thought to senselessly rationalize the deaths of a Naperville, IL woman, her two infant sons and her mother because "God had a higher purpose for them in Heaven."

Six young lives lost in an inferno, a family shattered, a mother and father grieving, and the best this supposed adult can do is tie a celebratory cartoon character to wrought iron fence? Please, please, please - whoever you are - go straight to the woodchipper.

2 comments:

drmagoo said...

The only thing I can think of to rationalize it would be if one of the kids was a Tweety addict - you know, the kids who everything they own has to be of a particular character or cartoon. That would be fine, I think.

Anonymous said...

Is it any more apropriate to light a candle... at the scene of a deadly house fire?!

People need to feel a connection. It's too bad they don't know how to connect.