Tuesday Movie: Into the Abyss


Just as I prefer nonfiction to fiction when I pick out a book, I love documentary films, especially when they are about subjects that I find fascinating.  Let's face it, the truth is sometimes way stranger than fiction.  I know there are thousands out there who would love to argue that point with me, but let's just agree to disagree.

Which is good advice concerning the subject of this film.  It's about the death penalty and no matter which side of the fence you're on, I know I probably can't make you change your mind.  Not many people have given much thought to the death penalty because it's not something that concerns them in their day to day lives.  Heck, most people don't even want to contemplate their own mortality, so why should they care about some stranger?  I know that's callous sounding, but it's true.  So, I want you to be brave and just watch the film and see what happens.

Into the Abyss opens with Richard Lopez, a death row chaplain standing in Joe Byrd Cemetery talking about his job.  And then Mr. Herzog asks Lopez to talk about an incident with a squirrel.  You're probably thinking, huh?  I was too.  I also interviewed Mr. Lopez, but we didn't talk about furry woodland creatures.  Our talk was more about God and his (Lopez's not God's) presence during an execution. But, now that I've seen this interview, I think questions about squirrels might be the ticket!.

Okay, sorry for the digression. The film focuses on a murder that occurred in a small town in Texas.  Three people were killed.  The reason?  A car.  Herzog interviews the two men who committed the murders as well as the victim's family members. Both sides are given equal time. 

It is a slow film, but it is haunting.  I very much enjoyed Herzog's look into these people's lives.  He is a wonderful filmmaker.  Who else could make you think about life, death, and for a fleeting moment, squirrels?

If you've seen it, I'd love to hear what you thought about it. 

Monday Mournings: The Death of a Brother

Linda Jackson here. And I don’t know why Pam wants to know my age, but I’m a proud 45-year-old, who hopes to turn 46 in June. I am from the great state of

Mississippi

. (Yes, it’s great, regardless of what you’ve read in books or seen in movies.) I write books for children, specifically middle grade, perhaps someday, YA or even picture books. I self-published a few books to get my start in the business, and I am published in a couple of Chicken Soup for the Soul titles and did freelance writing for educational publishers as well. So, there you have it, I’m a writer. Oh, yeah, and I

blog

.  And if you comment on this post, you will be entered into a drawing to win this book that I'm in!  Pamela will select a winner on Friday.

DW:  Who was the person that died?

Linda:  My oldest brother, Jessie.

DW:  How old were you at the time?

Linda:  34

DW:  How old was your brother?

Linda :  50

DW:  Was it a sudden death or did you know it was going to happen?

Linda:  Ironically, I thought it was sudden, because, at the time, I didn’t know what the word

hospice

meant. (Yes, I was 34 and had never heard of hospice before. Living under a rock, right?) When I heard my other siblings say he had been sent home under hospice care, I never thought to ask what that meant. I assumed it meant nurses were coming by his home to check on him until he got better. He had been battling cancer, had gotten better, then it came back, but I didn’t know it was there to stay. So, I guess everybody else knew my brother was in his last days except me. And that made me feel even worse.

DW:  Did you and Jessie talk about his death?

Linda:  A few days before my brother died, I talked to him on the phone. He asked me whether my youngest sister and I were planning to come see him. (That was nearly 12 years ago, but I can still hear his voice.)  He said, “I know y’all are coming to see your big brother.” I laughed and said, “We’re not driving that far.”

Here’s the deal. My brother lived in Decator, Illinois, at the time. I lived in Kansas City, and my sister lived in Mississippi. Both my sister and I were visiting my mom in our hometown in Mississippi for a few weeks during the summer break, which is why he asked if we were coming to see him.

So, even though we didn’t talk about his death, he assumed I knew about his impending death. But, of course, I didn’t. I had planned to surprise him with a visit on my way back to Kansas City. Sadly, he died a week and a half before my vacation ended, shortly after that phone conversation.

DW:  Had you experienced any other deaths in your personal life before Jessie died?

Linda:  I had another brother die from a gunshot wound when I was sixteen. It was my first experience with someone close dying tragically. In case you’re wondering, my mom had thirteen children—one son died as an infant, a few days after he was born, I think.

DW:  Were people supportive of your grief or did they shy away when you were grieving?

Linda:  Since I was in high school when my first brother was killed, I received plenty of support from my classmates. But with my second brother, nobody knew I was grieving. My siblings assumed the death didn’t affect me much because I didn’t attend the funeral. And the reason that I didn’t attend the funeral is because my mother didn’t attend, and I chose to be with her so she wouldn’t be alone. Side note: my mother stopped attending funerals after both her parents passed away. So she didn’t attend the funerals of either of my brothers, her siblings, my father…or  anyone else who died after 1977. I was afraid no one would show up at her funeral last year because of this…but they did.

J

DW:  Is there anything you wish you'd done differently with this person?

Linda:  Yes, I wish I had told my brother that I was coming to visit him rather than choosing to surprise him. Had I known what hospice meant, I guess, I would have known better.

DW:  Was he buried or cremated?

Linda:  My brother was buried. I don’t know of any cremations in my family.

DW:  Did you learn anything about the grieving process that you'd like to share?

Linda:  I learned that you can’t live life with regrets. As a result of my brother’s death, I decided to move back home to Mississippi. I felt horrible for my brother during his battle with cancer because I knew he wanted to be home (Mississippi). I never wanted to face that. So as soon as I went back to KC, we sold our house and moved to MS in less than a two-month timeframe. Also, months after the move, I was still grieving over the fact that I didn’t tell my brother that I was coming to visit him. Then one morning after I had taken my daughters to school and daycare, I stood in my bedroom and let it all out. I cried really hard for the first time after my brother’s funeral and told him how sorry I was that I didn’t go see him and that I was sorry I didn’t attend his funeral. Then suddenly I actually felt a presence in the room and sensed my brother’s voice saying, “It’s okay. I know. I know you were coming to see me. You don’t have to keep holding on to that.” From that moment, I let it go and never cried for my brother again.

Shortly after that incident, my family and I started attending a church where we met a man who, I swear, could have been my brother’s twin. And not only did they look alike, but they sounded the same and had the same mannerism. Of course, I questioned him about his family. But his family was from Alabama, and he didn’t think we were in any way related. But since that day, that man has been like an older brother to me.

DW:  Were any songs played at the memorial that were important to Jessie?

Linda:  As stated earlier, I didn’t attend the funeral nor did I want anyone to talk about it. So I have no idea what songs were played. All I know is that it rained really hard on the day of the funeral. Also, because of the age difference (16 years), I didn’t know my brother well enough to know his favorite songs. I just know he liked Blues. So if you know of any good Blues to play, go for it.

J

This one goes out to Jessie...

Thanks Linda for sharing your story!

Writer Wednesday: A Giggly Chat with Mary Roach

Mary Roach

When I decided at Goucher College that I was going to write my thesis about people who worked with death, the first thing that classmates asked was "Have you read Stiff by Mary Roach?"  Inside my head, I was like "Have you met me? I'm kind of a wimp when it comes to all things death related" but my outside voice said, "No, but I intend to."  

When you decide to take on a subject like death and you haven't had much personal experience with it, you read.  I read many books on death and, well,  they were kind of depressing.  But then I read "Stiff."  And let me tell you, I was like Mary Roach where have you been all my life?  I laughed, and I'm talking out LOUD.  Up until that point, nobody but David Sedaris could make me laugh with a book in my hand.  So I sent her an email to let her know that she officially kicked his ass.  And she responded within minutes, cementing my adoration for her.  (I still love you David.  Let's have coffee some time! In France. With pastries.) 

Well, that was a couple of years ago and last week I sent her another email to see if she'd talk to me right here on this blog.  And she said YES!  How cool is that?   

Mary Roach has written four wonderfully fun and informative nonfiction books about cadavers, the afterlife, sex and space. Her newest book, "Gulp" (And no, it's not about the Big Gulp at 7/11) is coming out in 2013.  I talked to her on Saturday, May 12, 2012.  You can listen to our chat right down there.  Just keep in mind that I do not have the mad radio interviewing skills of someone like Terry Gross. There's giggling, some death talk, a little writer stuff and we end with a discussion of our mutual love of tacos in San Francisco.  Enjoy!