Buffy: For credit?
Willow: Heh. Isn't college cool?
Buffy: How'd I miss that one?
So here's the deal. This semester I took a class called "Studies in Pop Culture" in the end it didn't turn out nearly as fun as I had hoped, but it is allowing me to write a paper on Buffy. So yays!
This is what I need, my paper is entitled "The Pop 'Cult'ure of Buffy" and I'm looking to fill 7 pages with the awesomeness that is Buffy. I'm looking for fan related stories about your experience wit Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Did it change your life?
Why do you love it so much?
Have any good fan relate experiences?
Did you meet your best friend because of Buffy?
What expereinces have you shared with others because of Buffy?
Are you a vidder? A fan fic writer? What do those things mean for you?
Is Buffy your escape? Why?
How did you start watching Buffy? From day one episode one? Or later?
Any interesting debates sparked out of Buffy?
Do you see what I'm asking? I have some of my own information I can put into this essay of course. So I'm not looking for any essay from you... just some experiences/stories whatever that can show what Buffy means to you. And that it still is its own subculture today.
(this is a public post so if you think you know some people with good stories, please feel free to share!)
"Sometimes it seems like it happened to someone else--like maybe it was a story I heard."
Sometimes it feels like it happened only yesterday, and other times as though it was a lifetime ago. 5 years. So long ago and again so near. I took the above picture last September when I went to New York City. The building is tower 7, the last tower to collapse. And even though construction is complete, it stand almost vacant. Even 5 years later.
Today is a day every one will be remembering. But before I tell my story, don't forget the stories that won't be told. Remember the thousands who died. Remember those who went in for the rescue. Some of them came out, and some of them didn't. That day, ordinary people became heroes.
Tuesday, September 11th 2001. I was in 9th grade. Our neighbors children came over to our house because their Mum had a doctors appointment. I had an English/History class that morning and I was getting ready for it. Our house was also being painted. And that's how we found out. The painter came in and told Mum to turn on the TV, that something was happening in New York. I came our den to find them watching the TV and the World Trade Towers smoking. I remember being usnure of exactly what was going on. I think Mum was to shocked to explain. I did realize it was important. I went to the living room and told our neighbors to come in and watch. The boys where aprox. 9 and 8 and the girl 12. I don't think they quite realized what was going on either. We watched for several more minutes and then Mum had to take me to class. We listened to the radio on the way over and were very quite. Between that time and by the time I got to my class, the towers had fallen.
There was a large TV in the room where my class was (some one basement actually) and we turned it on and watched a little before trying to make it through our 3 or so hours of class. Dad came home early that day. I had an orthodontist appointment that day as well. It was a very surrealistic day for me. Like I was watching some one else. Still not fully comprehending what would follow in the days to come. Or just what it all meant. But slowly, I was begining to understand. I don't remember when I found out that the Pentagon had been hit. Or that Flight 93 was also apart of the event. Probably because I saw it on TV very early when the Towers where the big news. I saw the President at the school in Florida address the nation and call it a Terrorist Attack.
It seems like the TV hardly went off over the next three days. Especially at night. A friend of ours didn't have a TV and he came over and watched a lot of it with us. We watched as rescues became less and less. We watched the replay of the towers fall, of the planes hit, people telling their stories.
My friend and I went out one night and picked up some of the magazines that had already come out a few days after it had happened. The ones with the pictures, the stories. I think that was 3 days later. We came back, watched more TV. Then a story came on. It was one of the men who had escaped the tower. To re-count the story he told here wouldn't be near as funny as when we saw it. And to this day we can't quite remember why we thought it so funny, but we did. My Mum, my friend and I were all watching and as this poor man told his story, he slipped up and we all busted out laughing. We laughed so hard. Like I said, it wasn't all that funny, but I think the stress of the three days had just built up on us and at this one thing, we all lost it.
And so last year when I visited the great city of New York, this is the New York Skyline as I saw it and as it has been for the past 5 years -
Never forget. Always remember.
If any of you got his address from me and don't have an e-mail from me with the correct one, please contact me again. This is important or you won't get to his family.
Rit was a truly wonderful person. His faith in Christ showed so well. Even when he was down, he was willing to admit it and ask for help. You could see the love he had for his wife and child. That through his hardships, he was happy. That all the difficulties in his life had made him who he was. And that his faith was true. His life is a testimony for us all. I take comfort in knowing that he is know with his Savior and that someday, we'll see him again. I hope and pray much for his wife and child. This time can not be easy for them. Losing such an amazing father and husband. I went to the store a little while ago and almost started crying again in the car. Then while I was looking for a sympathy card, I almost did again. I keep thinking of Kim and Caleb and it just hurts. I came across this beautiful picture of Kim and Caleb in his Flickr - http://www.flickr.com/photos/koinegeek/
I only met Rit twice, and even then it was just a brief wave. It was Dragon*Con of this year and I was very busy and so was he. But it is his LiveJournal posts, his comments, that stick with me. He was always so kind and thoughful. I could always rely on having a comment from him. He reminded me a lot of my dad, they liked and do a lot of the same kind of things. And now they'll never get the chance to talk. My memory of Rit, will always be him at D*Con. Smiling and happy with a camera around his neck.
Rit is the third person I have cried for when they died. I sat here and just cried, and still am. I can't really believe it. I keeping hoping to find somewhere that it isn't true, that it was a mistake. I think of Caleb and his wife... It's horrible. Please keep his family in your thoughts and prayers.
It is strange, I was at FansForChrist looking for info on Rit and found that his signature was this -
"The journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass. And then you see it ...
White shores... and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise"
I cried again when I read it.
Rit's office has set up a Memorial Fund for his family. Here is the information if you wish to help out- ISS is also setting up a Memorial Fund for Rit, which will go entirelyto Rit's wife and son. If you are interested in contributing, please
make out a check to ISS and indicate "Rit Kuykendall Memorial Fund" on your checks. Please send your donations to Farrah McGuffie in the HR Dept. here in Atlanta. Farrah will collect the funds and get them to Rit's family on your behalf.
Our address is 6303 Barfield Road, Atlanta, GA 30328
BTW- I'm making this a public entry so others can find out info as well. So if you know some one I don't who knew Rit and would like to help him out, you can link to this journal.
I have Rit's home address and phone number. If you would like to send him a card, leave a comment and I'll give you his address.
Thinking about seeing Serenity this weekend? (of course you are!) But not sure if you'll be lost? Then read this handy-dandy little guide! Complete with pictures!
I wonder, if in this time of sadness for New Orleans, have we forgotten what happened on this day four years ago? It is strange to think, that four years ago, around this same time, America was giving again to the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, opening its arms to those who had lost something. The question in New York was the same as it is there,"Did you loose any one?" The missing people web sites, the pictures, Have You Seen... The stories of rescue and hope, and again, those of deep sadness, of death. The stories of the brave Firefighters and Police Officers. It was known as the Day that Changed America, and I would be surprised if Katrina will be remembered in the same way.
Sometimes I think, has it been for years since those attacks? It was one of those times when people asked, where were you? And still they ask. And so I answer that question agian to day, and tell the story as it will probably be told to my children-
Where was I?
I was at home that morning. I had a writting class I was preparing for. I was in 9th grade. Our neighbors children were over, there mom having gone for a doctors appointment. Our house was being painted.
Paul, our painter, came in and asked mom to turn on the TV, something was going on in New York. I came into out den to find the two of them staring at the screen. What was going on? I asked. Mom sushed me and I continued looking at the screen. All I knew at that moment was that a large building in NYC had been hit by a plane. I called the other kids in to come watch, I don't know why. I suppose that I knew some how this was important. Soon after that, I had to leave for my class. We all piled in the car and left. We kept the radio on most of the way. I still didn't understand what exactly was going on. But terrorist attack was begining to come across the air waves.
By the time I arrived at my class (in the home of another homeschooler) the towers had collapsed. We all watched the TV as they showed huge dustclouds and replayed the collapes agian. It was a very quite class. I think our teacher cried a little.
My day continued on, a visit to the orthodontist, coming home to find dad at home. They had told people downtown to leave. Fear still in the air of more attacks. The TV stayed on all day. Reports floating in of another plane crash, what was that about?
Over the next three or more days we hardly had the TV off. Especially at night. Watching the news, what had happened and why? Stories of heros came in. Father Judge, the Firefighters, police officers, Mayor Guliani.
I still don't think it hit me until later just how horrible that day was. But I'll never forget that feeling, when I went to bed that night, what kind of world would I wake up to the next morning? I was afraid for many nights. Would it come to us?
But in this time of memories, let us not forget those who were so brave.
And those, who witnessed to the end, Father Michael Judge was the first of those dead to be removed from Ground Zero. His death certificate bore the number 1-