Passenger 487

               No one wants to hear the full story.  All they want to do point fingers and hold someone accountable. I was never given that opportunity, because society saw me as psychotic. Society only knows what the government tells them. The government manipulated my words and used them against me. No one will accept the truth but I swear to you I had no involvement whatsoever.

            I remember the afternoon of December 3 vividly. The night air was crisp and the ground was covered with a thin layer of snow. I was headed down to Delaware for a business trip.  When I bordered the train that morning I had trouble finding my seat. I took out my ticket to see what seat number I was sitting in: 487. I found my seat and began to sit down but as I sat the chair broke underneath me. I asked one of the attendants whether it be possible to change seats.
            “I’m sorry sir, but all seats are full. You’re going to have to remain in that seat.” she said

            “That’s okay mam, just thought I’d ask. The train ride is only a few hours anyway.”

             As the train pulled away I watched as the day slowly faded away.  As time passed I grew  tired and slowly fell into a deep sleep.

            When I woke up, the whole world was a blur. As I stumbled to my feet a spike of pain shot up my back. Once I could see clearly again, I realized that I was outside.  A few yards away from me was the train left in ruin. Shrapnel from the train was lying everywhere. Most of which was barely recognizable. I slowly stumbled over to the train to see if anyone was there.  The doorway of the train was crushed inward so I had to find another way in. I made my way through the back and checked to see if anyone was inside. There were no bodies or any sign of life I was the sole survivor. As I exited the train I tripped and fell, as I got up I noticed my hands were stained with blood.  I looked in front of me and there was a trail of blood. I followed the trail until I came to something written in blood in the snow. At first I couldn’t make out what it said, and then horrified I realized that it said: 487. That was the last I remembered before I blacked out.

The Lucky 7

We live in a world were money controls everything. To some men, the accumulation of personal wealth is their sole philosophy. They live and breathe for money as if it were a dire passion. Money transforms good men into capitalistic scrooges. Is it society’s fault that we have created such men? Or is it the individuals fault? The question then becomes, to what extent will these men go with their wealth? Will they spend it all on themselves and nothing on the welfare of others? Or will they share their wealth, so that others may find happiness in this world?

Dear Diary,

I grew up amidst the age of rock and roll, drugs, sex and rebellion surrounded me. As much as I didn’t believe in their philosophies, I had to conform to them in order to “fit in.”   For the most part I did pretty well in school. I wasn’t a straight A student but I tried my hardest. Money was never an issue for me. During high school I got involved with the wrong crowd. After graduating high school I joined the army.  I hoped to get rid of the bad habits, which I had acquired from high school. The army made me into a stronger man and a more decisive thinker.  After serving four tours of active duty, I retired from the army. I then resided in Los Angeles where I would spend the rest of my life. 

After retiring from the army I began to drink. At first I only drank occasionally but I soon became a heavy drinker. I felt that because I served in the army, I was entitled to do whatever I wanted. I felt owed for my service.  Greed consumed me like a black hole, and before I knew it a majority of my money was gone. It was when I started getting in debt that I began to drink even more heavily. I remember blaming the government.  It’s the government’s fault that I am in debt! They owe me for the sacrifices I made! But blaming the government never got me anywhere. This caused a downward spiral that ultimately caused me to become homeless.  I spent months in rehab. During rehab there was an old man, John, who was recovering just like me.  John was unable to stop drinking. I went through a period of withdrawals and I managed to stay sober for two months. While in rehab, they did different tests on my body and told me I had to see a specialist. My appointment was scheduled for May 3, 1975.

…

As much as I regret it, I was once consumed with spending my money. I spent money feverishly until my circumstances began to change. Through these circumstances I began to see life in a different light. Maybe it was because my life was beginning to rapidly change and I had fewer moments to spare. Or perhaps, God had become a major part of my life and because of that I became more generous.  But regardless of the exact circumstances, what I can tell you is that on May 4, 1975 my life changed forever. I became a new man, with a new mission to change the world for the better.

 

I was out for a morning stroll when I ran into a homeless man who was asking for money. I did the best I could to try and avoid him but he called me over.

“Sir, would you mind sparing some change?”

I looked at him with disgust. Who was he too ask me for money?

  I said to him, “Go get a job.”

 As I walked away he said softly “I figured you’d say that. You’ll never change.”

I turned back.  

“Who are you to judge me?”

            He said, “You need to wake up and smell the roses. There is goodness in you. You just haven’t allowed yourself to see it.”

             As I began to walk away I realized that the homeless man I was talking to was John from the clinic. I turned around to go back and speak with him, but he had disappeared. I walked away I began wondering, what did he mean that there was goodness in me? It has always been about me and only me.

            It was May 3, 1975 and I had been called in for a doctor’s appointment.  I remember thinking that there could not be anything wrong with me. I’ll admit that I had a few beers here and there but nothing that could amount to anything.  As the doctor came in his face was blank and emotionless, yet I could sense there was something wrong. His face was wrinkled from age. Every now and then, he would glance down at my file and begin to speak but seemed unable to find the words.

I finally asked the doctor, “Just tell me what’s wrong with me Doctor.”

“Um well you see, you have…”

“Just tell me what’s wrong with me Doc.”

Sweat began pouring from his forehead. He avoided eye contact with me and slowly began to say, “You have…” when a nurse came in and said that they required his assistance in another room. He leaped at this opportunity and was out of the room. A few minutes later a different doctor came in.

“My name is Doctor Westport, and I presume that you are anxious to find out why you were called in today.” 

I nodded.

“You have liver cancer and have six months to live.” 

I sat there in utter disbelief. How could this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this?  The doctor informed me that because of my excessive drinking, I had destroyed my liver.

“It’s not my fault! It’s the government’s fault that I drank! I served to protect my country and what did they give me? Not enough money to live on once I left!”

I left the office in disbelief.  For the next few hours I walked around the city aimlessly. I kept telling myself that this was just a horrible dream and that I’d wake up any moment. However, the day prolonged I still was unable to come to my senses. The last I remember is that I walked into a bar and ordered a drink.

            I woke up the next day hung-over.  The night was a distant memory. I stumbled over to the kitchen and started making breakfast. I turned on the TV to watch the news. As I was fixing cereal for myself, they began announcing last night’s Powerball numbers Like many other times, I had went out the last Sunday and bought a ticket. I had never won anything more than twenty dollars.  According to the news station the winner has not come forward to collect the 5 million dollar jackpot.  On the bottom of the screen they displayed the winning numbers. I casually took a cursory glance at the screen and then returned to eating my breakfast. I took a second glance and all of a sudden I realized that the numbers on the screen seemed oddly familiar. They were the same numbers that I always used for the lottery!

 I began frantically searching through my apartment for my ticket. Clothes were left scattered all over the floor. In the kitchen sink there were piles of dirty plates waiting to be cleaned. They gave off a peculiar scent, like rotten cheese. Beer bottles were scattered everywhere. Many of them had been thrown against the wall, leaving broken glass everywhere. I stumbled over to my desk where there was a heap of papers that were cluttered randomly. I looked through them and found the ticket. I glanced back at the TV to make sure I was not just seeing things and sure enough I had won the lottery!  

Dear Diary,

 I only had six months to live. Six months to make up for all the lost time. Six months to change as a person. Was it enough? Or was I too late? What was it that brought upon this sudden change of heart? Was it because my life on this earth had shortened? Or was it because I genuinely wanted to make a difference in this world?

The next day I went searching for the John. When I first met John I saw him as a failure. I didn’t think that he had anything intelligent to say. When I saw him that day on the street, it didn’t make sense what he had told me. I realized that there are people who are in worse situations than I am in. I felt as if it was my duty to help improve their lives now. I wanted to thank John for helping me to realize that I can change as a person and that I can make a difference in this world.        

 I asked around at the community center but no one seemed to know him. I looked in the surrounding areas of LA but had no luck. Since I couldn’t find him, I decided to start volunteering at the soup kitchen down the street where I last saw him. My hope was that maybe I would somehow run into him but I never saw him again. I wanted to honor John. So I donated some of my money to rebuild the community center and named it after John. I then created a foundation in his name, which sought out to help wounded veterans get training for new jobs.

Towards the end of my life I wondered, what would have happened if I had not won the lottery? Or not gotten sick? Would I have changed or would I have remained the same? I realized that life is about the time you have on this earth and how you choose to live it. It comes down to the opportunities that we are given. We can either choose to make a difference or we can ignore the opportunities completely. John made me realize that I did have goodness in me, and that it was just a matter of time until I would be able to see that.

Words of Wisdom: Imagination

Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!
-Dr. Seuss

 

Do not simply limit were your imagination can take you.

You have an entire life that lies ahead of you, that is filled with twists and turns.

Do not allow these challenges to prevent you from exploring the world.

These challenges have a greater purpose.

They serve as a stepping stone to build upon not only our future but also our imagination.

By overcoming challenges we begin to understand life more clearly.

Therefore the more clearly we see life the more we are be able to imagine the infinity possibilities.    

 

My Bus Buddy

This past summer I worked at a summer camp as a camp counselor.
By the end of the summer I hoped to achieve two things.
First I wanted to make an impact on a child's life no matter how small.
Second I wanted to have a kid come up to me and tell me that they had a fun summer.
It all began on the first day of summer camp.
I was sitting alone on the bus heading to summer camp, when a young boy sat next to me on the bus.
He looked very nervous as he sat down with me.
This was his first day coming to camp and he wasn't sure if he'd like it.
I asked him about what he likes to do.
Instead of telling me what he liked to do, he told me this dream he had.
In the dream flying bacon was taking over the world.
It was quite the elaborate story given his age; it reminded me a lot of Star Wars.
I asked him if he liked Star Wars.
His eyes dilated and then he began to talk all about star wars.
He told me about how he liked the game "Angry Birds Star Wars".
He went on to describe all the levels that he had beaten.
Before we knew it we were at camp and it was time to part ways.
As he got off he looked back at me and waved and from that moment on, I knew that this kid would be a big part of my summer.

The afternoon rolled by and it came time to head home.
When I got on the bus I saw the boy who I had sat with earlier.
He said to me "Matt sit with me."
I asked him if he had a good day at camp.
He told me in a playful voice "I had a fun day at camp without YOU!"
I said to him "Oh really is that so? Fun without me I don't think that can happen."
"I had infinity billion, infinity billion, infinity billion times more fun than YOU!"
"Oh yeah well I had zillion trillion billion more fun than you!"
We kept going back and forth for quite some time, until I finally said "Man you beat me I can't think of a bigger number."
He got very excited almost to the point of pure joy.
"I beat you!" he said
"Yeah well you knew a bigger number than I did."

The first week of camp had past and every morning and every afternoon my bus buddy would sit next to me.
We would talk all about "Angry Bird Star Wars" and other games he liked to play.
In the second week of camp, my bus buddy earned his very first star.
A star is an award given to campers who are having fun or doing a good job at camp.
I said to him "Whoa you have a star?! I wish I could've gotten a star."
He said "You can't you're an adult. Adults don't get stars."
"Just because I'm an adult doesn't mean I still can't get a star."
He told me to close my eyes.
When I opened my eyes he had placed his star in my hands.
I asked him excitedly if the star was for me to keep.
When he said yes I said enthusiastically "I got a star! YEAH!" but it was short lived.
He told me to close my eyes.
He then took the star back and laughed like an evil scientist and said "This star is mine now!"
I frowned at the loss of my star, which made him only laugh harder.

Throughout the summer we had various dress up days.
One in particular, I decided to dress up as a hippie.
I put on a wig and a tie dye shirt and set out for camp.
When my bus buddy entered the bus he was taken aback by my appearance.
He asked me what happened to my hair.
I told him "Well you see I made this magic shampoo last night that makes my hair grow longer."
"No way."
"Yes way."
"I don't believe you."
"You want to see the bottle?"
This attracted the attention of everyone around me.
I shuffled through my bag and pulled out an imaginary magic shampoo bottle.
One of the kids said "See I told you it was just a wig there is nothing in his hands."
However my bus buddy didn't seem to hear what the kid had said and said "I see the bottle."
"Yeah, it's really heavy bottle."
"May I hold it?"
"Sure just don't spill it."
Sure enough when he grabs the imaginary bottle and he gestures as if he where opening the top.
He then empties out all the magic shampoo on the ground and says to me "Now your hair is long forever!"
"NOOO! How could you do this to me I don't want long hair forever!"
"Too bad!"

One morning my bus buddy and I were having a chat about foreign languages, when he said to me "I know Spanish."
"Well just because you know a few words of another language doesn't mean you know it."
"Yeah it does."
"Whatever."
"I know Chinese too!" and from that moment on he was convinced that he was proficient in both languages.

Later in the summer I got to be his camp counselor.
The moment he saw me he ran over to me and gave me a hug.
He grabbed me by the hand and dragged me around introducing me to all of his friends.
The entire session he stood by my side.
He imitated anything I did.
If I would be leading a camp song, he would be singing it louder.
It always seemed like it was a competition with him on who had the most camp spirit.
By far though, it was the best week of summer camp I've ever had.

Earlier in the summer the staff had received superlatives.
I ended up receiving "The Big Kid".
I did not understand why at first, I received it but by the end of the summer my bus buddy helped me realize why.
My bus buddy taught me the importance of being a kid at heart.
It allows you to see and imagine life differently.
It's a place where you do not have to be perfect in order to succeed and all that really matters is whether or not you're having fun.      


 
  

The Journey to the Seven Seas

"Hello there Captain Jack."
"What can I do for you young man?"
"I'd like to go on a voyage with you across the seven seas."
"And why would you want to do that?"
"Well you see Captain my father was a fisherman like you. He went on a voyage a few years ago and never came back. It's not that I want to find him. I just want to understand what he did and I thought the best way to do that was to experience it myself."
The following day they went on the voyage and after that day the boy was never heard from ever again.

The Seeing Blind Man

Ever since I was a child, I have been blind. Many people ask me whether or not I see anything. Before I can usually start explaining to them what it is that I see, I am interrupted. They will say to me you do not see anything do you? I will tell them about how I see mountain ranges as vast as the eye can see. Each and every morning I will see the sun setting and rising. They then ask me if I can not see, then how could I possible know what the world looks like? I tell them that I don't know what the world looks like, but that does not mean I can not imagine what the world could be like.

What America Means to Me

In the world that we live in there is a hidden beauty that lies beneath the surface.
It's a beauty that is so simple yet, time and time again we fail to see it.
Is it because we are blind?
Or is it because we don't understand the very essence of its underlying beauty?
The question then becomes, if we do in fact find the beauty of this world, do we just see the beauty or do we see the beauty for what it really is?