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October 10, 2004
A great loss here in the Mitten (revised 10/11)
(Revision after the *****)
I am not an aviation buff by any means, but still, I was so sad to read this in my local paper this morning:
Three aircraft saved; Willow Run facility's loss as much as $7 million
An immense fire swept through the Yankee Air Museum in Van Buren Township late Saturday, destroying vintage aircraft and aviation artifacts, including the wooden World War II-era hangar that housed the museum.
Three aircraft — B-17, B-25 and C-47 — were pulled from the hangar before flames engulfed the building, but another four or five aircraft, as well as the museum’s library, were lost, said museum President Jon Stevens.
“It’s a terrible loss, not only for us, who have put so much time and our hearts into that place, but really it’s a loss for southeast Michigan and the aviation world,” said museum member Raymond Nickels.
(article from the Detroit News)
What is so very sad is that all of what was lost is fairly irreplacable.
*****
I spent a good while on Sunday wondering why I was so affected by the loss of this museum and its contents. Really, I could care less about the planes themselves, or the "stuff." I do, however, have a strong connection to things and objects, and a reverence for the memories and emotions they can conjure up.
Let me see if I can explain....
Growing up, my family was not well off. My dad was a public school teacher in rural Massachusetts. We were "eating government cheese and getting clothes from the Church" kinda not well off. Material goodies were in short supply in my formative years. What I did have, I cherished and took very, very good care of. My toys were immaculate, looking brand new even after a few seasons of play.
When I was about 11, my mom sat me down on a Saturday afternoon. "Lisa," she started solemnly, "I have something special for you." She handed me an opal ring. It was gold-banded, with five oval blue opals set in a row. There were tiny butterflies worked into the sides ofo the delicate setting. Even though I was a tomboy in my youth, I still had a soft spot for nice jewelry. I squealed: "Mom, this is cool!" My mom laughed and told me the story of the ring, my first piece of "big girl" jewelry.
"Now Lisa," she started. "This ring was your great-grandmother Viera's. She was born in October, like my mother, and like you. My mother gave me this ring when you were born, and told me to give it to you when I thought you were old enough to appreciate it." I looked between my mom and the ring, now encircling my right ring finger. I knew immediately that this ring had been a prized possession on my mother's side of the family. My great-grandmother and grandfather had been immigrants from the old country, Portugal. I was filled with thoughts of them, people I never really got to know, as I looked at my finger.
To this day, I have that ring. It still fits me perfectly, though it has never been sized by a jeweller. I wear it only on the most special of occasions: my wedding, my college graduation, my birthday. Even when I see the ring in my jewelry box, I am awash in memories and emotions recalling my mom and my family's history. When I wear it, I feel a connection with my past and my future.
If I were to lose that ring, what would hurt me is not the monetary value of it. No, no, I am aware that the dollar value of the opals and gold are minimal. What I would miss most would be the physical thread tying me to my Nana Viera and her era.
The loss of the Yankee Air Museum will mean that many will feel a disconnect with a bygone era as well. Local veterans no longer have that resource to go to when the memories of their service fade little by little. Aviation buffs will have to go elsewhere for their nostalgia fix. Small children will not be able to grasp their elders' hand and ask about times past.
I guess all I can say is that I understand.
Posted by Lisa at October 10, 2004 10:10 AM
Comments
Our links to the past are so special. I wonder sometimes what pieces of my life will be handed down and if they will become important to and cherished by some distant relative of mine. These special items and the stories and memories attached to them are the things that can make us immortal. Lovely post, Lisa.
Posted by: Faith at October 11, 2004 12:01 PM
Beautiful ring and a beautiful sentiment...
What is the bracelet you have on?
Posted by: deb at October 11, 2004 02:58 PM
Great post. Might it work itself into the novel?
Can't help but notice the LiveStrong Bracelet. I was just getting ready to give mine up, when a dear friend was diagnosed. It's back on until he's in remission--and small world, he's an A Squared native now living in LA.
Posted by: Melissa at October 11, 2004 08:19 PM