Rhythmic fears of violence


In the rhythm of anger, fear, terror and violence

 Note: The “Greenwich Meridian” © 2017 Emma Palova memoir is an evolving novel covering our immigration saga spanning three generations that started with the Russian invasion of former Czechoslovakia in 1968 up to date.

I also wrote this in response to the Daily Post prompt @rhythmic, as violence overshadows joy

Rhythmic

By Emma Palova

Lowell, MI- It’s 5:53 a.m. EST on a regular Thursday morning. Husband Ludek just left for work coughing, and I am recovering from a bout of cold that kept me inside yesterday. It’s still dark outside, and I light some candles, so I can meditate before writing with a cup of coffee, and a cup of nettle tea.

But, something else kept me indoors yesterday, as well as in my own shell. I was dealing with a red fury, called anger that topped off with an apple that my husband didn’t take to work with him. I always get an apple ready for him thinking about his health in the morning.

Michigan Lighthouseswpid-mntsdcardDCIMCamera2013-06-26-21.10.27.jpg.jpg
Rhythmic changes of nature withour our contribution, a sunset in South Haven, Michigan.

When the apple was still there yesterday, I thought he was angry at me.

I felt the anger building up in me since Monday, as I watched the disturbing evening NBC newscast on “Tonight at 7.”

“I’ll never forget this one,” I said disgusted to Ludek. “I won’t sleep again.”

It was a slew of everything from my 1970s teen idol David Cassidy’s announcement of dementia, to the one year anniversary of the Uber shooting in Kalamazoo, Michigan, that left six dead and two wounded.

“We don’t want Kalamazoo to be remembered for this,” said the speaker at the Monday night vigil held at the K-Wings Stadium teary eyed.

The newscast showed Laurie Smith, wife and a mother, who’s loved ones where shot on that dreadful night at a car dealership, shopping for a truck. The daughter was supposed to go too. She didn’t. That saved her life.

Laurie held little urns with ashes as dreadful charms tied to a necklace in her fingers, crying.

“I carry their ashes around my neck,” she sobbed.

How can you not remember this? I would have to be a piece of stone.

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All the colored beads representing different emotions.

Kalamazoo is home to one of the best universities in the country, the Western University Michigan (WMU). Other than being the home of the Broncos, it is the alma mater of many and an intellectual oasis in Midwest America.

My son Jake went to Western. He graduated in winter of 2010 in an auditorium decked out with red and white Poinsettia plants in pots with glittery wrap around Christmas time.

Surreal.

Early on when we settled down in the Grand Rapids area in the 1990s, I took online classes in psychology from WMU. I love the entire university environment along with the culture, the libraries, the ethnic restaurants, the university cafeterias and the sports. My parents worked at Ferris State University in Big Rapids until retirement in the 2000s. I studied at the Technical University of Brno, my dauther Doc Em studied at Charles University in Prague.

We have university blood circling in our veins.

I celebrated one of my birthdays at the WMU Performance Arts Center with the longest standing performance of all times, the “Phantom of the Opera” in 2007.

“Can you imagine those actors doing it over and over again?” said my friend Sue, when I complained to her that every day at the newspaper office was the same.

Many years later, as I think about all these moments, like grains of sand, sifting through time in an hour glass. The little sand grains that represent anger, fear, terror, joy, love and hope in a cyclical rhythm.

Grains of time sift through the hour glass rhythmically. To the right: my parents Ella & Vaclav Konecny with grandpa Joseph Drabek in 1987 during grandpa’s only visit to the USA.

Below is a photo essay representing the victory of joy & hope over rhythmic violence: left 1001 Days of Blogging Annie Conboy of UK who blogs for the future of her daughter Erin. Right top: son Jake Pala who teaches Josephine Marie Palova, 3, the Czech language to preserve our origins. Below right in the small frame, French granddaughter Ella, 6, on summer break in Parnell to learn English. Pictured in the bottom frame is Mrs. Irma Richmond, teacher from the one-room schoolhouse at Fallasburg in the 1960s. Today, kids from Murray Lake Elementary and on the http://www.fallasburgtoday.org come to visit the school thanks to the advancement of technology. Mrs. Richmond says hi to all. 

Follow Mrs. Richmond’s and Annie’s stories into the future.

https://wordpress.com/post/fallasburgtoday.org/1397
 

Before that lovely opera performance, we enjoyed a  meal at Rasa Ria, a Malaysian restaurant with my parents Ella and Vaclav in downtown Kazoo.

It was one of my best birthday celebrations, ever. And it was in Kalamazoo, in the university city of intellect and terror.

And now this additional piece of terror, that will always stay in our minds, and in those charms with ashes around Laurie’s neck.

I can still recall the actual coverage of the Uber shooting one year ago, when the police contained the rampage in 4 hours and 42 minutes. The footage showed cars chasing the suspect, finding the victims at innocent places like Cracker Barrel and at the Seeley dealership in Kalamazoo.

“Why did he do it?” Ludek kept asking me.

The news report mentioned that the Uber driver said that the devil told him which people to shoot through the phone app.

“Crazy?” I ask.

One year later, crime perpetrator, Jason Brian Dalton, 45, still hasn’t been convicted. A hearing is set for March 9. If convicted, he faces a life in jail, according to news reports.

As I watched the vigil for the victims, my memory flashed back to a trip to France in 2016 with our granddaughter Ella. We were waiting for a Uber driver to take us from Charles De Gaulle (CDG) Airport to Gare du Nord train station in Paris.

“Emma, are you sure this is safe, you know about that shooting in Kalamazoo?” I asked my liberal daughter Doc Emma, who permanently resides in the wine village of Fixin, in Burgundy France.

“Oh, it can’t happen here,” she said, “only in America.”

“Really?” I asked.

I thought about all the violence of the past two years in France as it flashed through my mind; from attacks in Paris, Nice and Belgium.

Now, back again to the current reality as of Feb. 23, 2017. The two Uber shooting survivors, Addie Kopf, 15, and Tiana Carruthers, 26, continue to fight forward.

After undergoing several surgeries, Kopf has difficulty speaking and remembering, in spite of overall improvements. Carruthers, who shielded children from the gunfire, is now walking without a cane, according to news reports.

I glanced at the comments following some of the broadcasts of the one-year anniversary of the Uber shooting that occurred in Kalamazoo on Feb. 20, 2016.

robandhan1 day ago

Huh…  another white guy with a gun…

jime4441 day ago

@robandhan and how many die in chicongo each day?  not many white people, either………libturd.

charlie251 day ago

Does anyone remember this??? There have been so many weirdos killing people in the past year to remember this one. 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Some useful links:

1001 Days of Blogging by Annie Conboy

https://emmapalova.com/2016/12/15/1001-days-of-blogging/

Recent news Uber shooting one-year anniversary coverage on Wood TV 8 and other regional channels.

http://www.wxyz.com/news/kalamazoo-shooting-rampage-victims-to-be-honored-one-year-later

Have we grown cynical to people suffering around us? Have we grown used to anger, terror and violence as a rhythm of life?

Copyright © 2017. Emma Blogs, LLC. All rights reserved.

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