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LORDKAHUNA
Don't make me fuk your moustache   SSHOLE |
Posts: 1583 Registered: 8/5/2003 Offline
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4/7/2008 at 02:22 |
My “death” subroutine kind of sits in a dusty unused corner of my brain, a rusty set of appropriate emotions that are pulled out and used during those rare occasions where someone in your circle ends. I haven’t seen a ton of dead people in my life, when I think of it there isn’t a whole lot instances compared to some.
Here is the breakdown:
--When I was in grade 3, some dummy kid in my school got his dumb legs runned over by a bus, I can vaguely remember a waxy face poking out of a half closed casket.
--In my hometown there were 3 hobo brothers that lived in a tin shack outside of town, real Deliverance types. Their names were Jacques, Dennis, and Tee; they made their living harvesting honey and exchanging it for greasy dollar bills, which they in turn stuffed into the greasier front pockets of their overalls. One day Dennis flags down my 14 year old self and asks me to phone an ambulance for Tee due to the fact that he was “real sick”. Kinda curious about the interior of the hobo shack, I requested to speak to Tee, and Dennis led me to the hovel. I was immediately assaulted by the smell of rotten potatoes as I entered; through the gloom I spied a bloated, blue Tee. I ran all the way home leaving my bike propped against the shack (my dad had to pick it up afterward), and to this day rotten potatoes bring me right back into my 14 year old head running away from death.
--5 years later I was at a remote bus stop on the outskirts of Ottawa, I saw a pair of sweet Nike Air Jordans lying in the grass; a dead dude was wearing em.
--My uncle Doug killed himself, I loved him a lot, it took me 10 hours to make a 6 hour drive to Ottawa, my eyes kept filling up and I had drive in bursts. He looked pretty good I guess, but somehow fake.
--Also worth mentioning, my 90+ great-grandmother died a few years before that, she looked the same as she did in life, like a raisin.
--Henry Korba was an older dude I used to work with, he threw the coolest poker parties where you could lose half your paycheque if you were not careful, and if you did he would invite you to his place for BBQ knowing that you were having trouble making ends meet that week. He was the type of dude that wasn’t really dynamic, talented, eloquent, and smart or funny, he was just a good dude. It was a really hot day in the polishing shop when Henry died, his heart just quit, and no matter what we did we couldn’t save him. We shut down the plant and almost 2000 people went to his funeral, we still pass the hat for his kids every year.
My brother-in-law and his wife had their 2nd kid about a month ago, apparently there was a bit of a shuffle with the chromosomes and their new daughter was born with some serious problems. Last Friday Joy and I were asked to join them at the children’s hospital to spend some last moments with this little one while she was still alive, then Vinnie and Christy were going to take baby Nyah home to live out her last few days. Standing beside her crib, seeing this little one with hoses sticking down her nose and wires leading from her to a bank of monitors and machines was too much for me to bear, I literally ran to the street to escape, I haven’t cried like that in years.
The way my brother and sister-in-law interacted with us during this weird combination of birth and death was one of the more surreal things I have ever witnessed; I have no idea where they found the strength. It made me wonder how people deal with death, not the distant “fuck, somebody close to me died” type of thing, but the actual touching of it.
Tell us your death stories, how close were you to it; did you get it on you?
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Sexninja> I will not your farts
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Wrecker
Misanthrope  SSHOLEPosts: 420 Registered: 1/25/2006 Offline
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4/7/2008 at 12:22 |
My experience with death hasn't been quite as extensive as LK's but here goes.
The first dead person I ever saw was a guy I went to church with named Ben. Ben died after a long, hard fought bout with cancer. Ben was a great guy and a full-blood American Indian (not sure what tribe). Ben had fought in WWII and had been a code talker so he had some pretty kick ass stories that usually ended in Japs being on the wrong end of a flame thrower.
The next person was a guy I went to school with named Troy. I was walking to my work one afternoon when I heard a crash on the next block. Morbid curiosity drew me out of my way to see what had happened. I saw the truck flipped over on it's top and immediately knew who it belonged to. Troy wasn't wearing a seatbelt and when the truck flipped, he got tossed up over the steering wheel. When the truck came down, it pretty much cut him two. I did not go to his funeral.
My grandfather died of cancer as well. I saw him several months before he passed away. Cancer is a motherfucker, that's about all I can say. I was in the Navy at the time and was deployed when he finally died. When I was in the Persian Gulf, he told my dad "The kid doesn't know what war is." I had been kinda pissed about that and resentful toward him. It took me years to finally understand what he had meant. He had also fought in WWII and had been in North Africa, Sicily, and Normandy. I visited his grave the last time I was in Oklahoma and told him that he had been right.
The next few deaths I saw were while I was in the Navy. One was while I was stationed in Dam Neck, VA for Operations Specialist "A" School. Some guy in a previous class decided to ride is motorcycle down the longest road of the base as fast as he could, right into the side of the main classes building.
The next was while a friend of mine and I were driving home from Norfolk Naval Base. At the time, I lived in Newport News, VA and to get home, I had to drive through the Hampton Roads Tunnel. If I could get off the ship at five minutes to 3PM or earlier, I could usually fly through the tunnel. Five minutes after 3PM and it would take me over an hour to get home. On this particular day, we got out at about a quarter to 3. But for some reason, traffic was at a fucking stand still. I said to my friend, "There better be an accident and there better be somebody dead". When we finally got to where the hold up was, I felt bad because there was indeed an accident and there was indeed somebody dead. It seems this sailor was taking a cab from Newport News to Norfolk. I guess the story was that he didn't have enough money for fare, so instead of waiting for the cab to actually stop, then dash, he decided to jump out while the cab was doing 60+ mph on I-64. We could see along the road where he had hit the pavement and skipped, then finally skidded to stop. There was blood all over the place with a long strip of blood that ended in a bloody sheet.
While in the Persian Gulf, I had to help fish a body out of the water that had been there for god knows how long. That was the most rancid smell I have ever experienced and I threw up. The body was all bloated and puffed up. I have never smelled anything like that since.
My uncle was a K-9 Officer in Tulsa, OK. One night he was pursuing an armed robber and they chased the guy into an alley. Uncle Dan was getting ready to turn his dog (Ronnie) loose down the alley when the guy ambushed him. My uncle received two 12 ga. shotgun blasts to the chest and face, while the dog received one. The wounded dog attacked the shooter and another police officer finally shot the guy and killed him, but he was also seriously wounded. About six hours later, my uncle died from severe trauma. I was stationed at the Naval War College at the time and we were in the middle of a war game when I received the Red Cross message. My commanding officer (Capt. Weeks) had the War College pay for my plane ticket back to Oklahoma for the funeral. When I saw him in the casket, I lost it and almost collapsed. My dad helped me back to my seat.
I served with a guy who was killed in the USS Cole bombing. He was a Hull Technician on USS Caron where I was stationed. The Cole bombing pissed me off when I found out about it, but when I saw Kenny's face on the cover of the newspaper, I cried.
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< nuevoSock_> "me and the phone cable plugged to her labia were shaking hands
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dent
Slipping it into the wrong hole any chance I get  SSHOLEPosts: 805 Registered: 10/20/2004 Offline
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4/7/2008 at 14:21 |
My first encounter was in the 7th grade, when a female friend of mine, Robyn Debrowski, was riding on a bus from New Bedford to Cape Cod for a basketball game, when some guy shot at the bus from the side of the highway. This was pretty huge in the news back then, as he had been shooting at people for a while. The bullet went through the bus and through her chest, killing her on the bus. I went to her wake and cried for days.
My grandmother died of cancer while living in our house as a child. The hours before her death was pretty fucked up, because she had been talking about little monsters chasing her around the room and other things that were obviously a product of her brain dying. She passed away when my mother was my age now.
My girlfriends mother had an aneurysm back in 1995, while screaming over the phone at the cable company for screwing up her bill. She had collapsed, puked in ton, and never moved again. She lasted on life support for 2 full days, until me and my girlfriend visited her and she died in our arms. Feeling a human slump in your arms is pretty strange, and I hope I never have to feel that again. She was only 35.
I watched my grandfather die in the hospital due to heart disease. We had been prepared for days that it was coming, but watching it happen really kicked my ass. I was really, really close to him. He was 78 when he died.
Soon after, my other grandfather took a fall and busted his hip. After surgery, he developed an infection that was too strong for his heart, and he passed away pretty unexpectedly in his mid-60's. This was by far the hardest death in the family.
In 2000, my absolute closest friend committed suicide. I remember the day he hung himself he was supposed to be in court at 8am, and I was his ride. He blew me off, and I figured he would just go himself. Instead, he drove to Home Depot, purchased a nylon rope (receipt was in his pocket) and drove to our fishing hole and hung himself in a tree. The fucking bastard was wearing a shirt I had let him borrow too. As it turns out, there was a dead girl found in the same vicinity, the same day, floating in the pond. This brought another twist to the suicide, which also caused me to be questioned about whether I had committed a double homicide. Thank God I was at work the morning of, which ended their suspicions quickly. Me and the wife still talk about this on a semi-regular basis.
My wife and I lost a child at birth in 2001.
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"You must have weak asslips. I like to sculpt mine on the way out, like table legs under a lathe" - Vasudeva |
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Acidburn
I am El Chupacabra  SSHOLEPosts: 724 Registered: 8/1/2004 Offline
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4/8/2008 at 02:02 |
The only actual deat I witnessed was on the way from San Diego to Pheonix. My ex was driving the truck with her son and his friend in the cab in back. We both have drivin the route a dozen times and know where the cops sit. After coming out of the mountains she got in the right lane and slowed down as this was a hot spot for radar. About 1 mile later an early model toyota pickup passes on the left. I should ad now that we dropped acid about 20 minutes prior to this point. As he passed us we saw dust coming from the left side of his truck. Than his brake lights come on and before we know it, he is skidding 180 backwards and we are facing each other. All the while we never hit the brakes doing about 75. We watched him skid from left to right facing us. As he entered the right side of the road into the dirt we either hit the brakes or let off the gas. Not sure. But he went backwards through the fence about 150 feet off the side of the road. Because of the dust I don't/didn't see exactly the Nascar roll he did at first. next thing I know he is rolling over about 4-7 times. Just as we thought it was going to stop a rag doll was thrown through the air. Arms and legs sprawled straight out and tumbling through the air. I screamed STOP STOP STOP! so we could try and help. She stopped about 100 yards from where he went through the fence and to where he stopped rolling. My first thought was "Did this just happen? I mean we did drp acid and all" A ran and Carl Lewised the barbed wire fence and ran in god knows what type of farm field. Knee deep,green and very thick. I ran to the truck sitting on it's wheels and was actually amazed at the amount of shit strewn about. I ran towrads the truck yelling "HELLO?" and just dumfounded at the whole situation. I looked under the truck with no luck. I was cautious aproaching the thing as I was waiting for the massive fireball/explosion that you see on TV. Nothing, it is as if the accident sucked all the sound out of the air around me. I saw a smal clearing in the field. Running up to it thinking "fuck no man. Fuck no". Goddamn golfclubs. I played a quick game of scharades trying to get her perspective as in which way did he get thrown. I headed the way she pointed and about 200 yards from the acciden I found"HIM". Laying face down, arms by his side and legs straight back as in he was on a slip n slide.
I could see his skull was cracked from temple to the other ear and bright bright red blood surounding his head in a puddle. Blood was puoring out of his ear. And he had this, loud, soft snore that was coming in about 3 second intervils. I'm thinking" Wholy shit the acid is gonna kick in any minute and wholey shit". I removed my shirt and used it to protect my hands from the bllod and slightly turned his head so at best 1 nostrel was not in the blood pool. I kept talking to him like in the movies. "Come on man, your alright. Your not going any where yet dude. Just stay with me" I did this for about 15 minutes while the ex was trying to give 911 directions as to where this happened. Goddamed desert with no mile markers and just so happened the over pass had no on/off ramp. All she could describe was a tall green water tower across the highway. So, I'm kneeling there holding this guys head and talking and the cop shows up. A cop right out of walking tall the movie. Fat out of shape fucker casually walking towards us. I kept waving him and yelling "Hurry the fuck up! I think he is dyeing". I imagened what was in his head, traffic accident and the victim is on his knees waiting for help and yelling. When he got closer he realized that I was helping this guy. He turned and covered about 200 yards in seconds flat, got a medical kit and was back in seconds flat. In the meantime he called in better directions to the EMT. We rolled him on his back and I gagged at the sight of the blood and facial damage he had. We put a brace on his neck and I explaned to the cop I was a passing motorist who witnessed it all. He immediatly brought out some hand gell/sanitizer and said use the whole fucking bottle. Thats when I realized I had this strangers blood on my cheast, stomach, arms and hand. I made that shit go the distance and rubbed it on like KY warming lube in a 3some. When the EMT's showed up, they got to us, looked at him and instantly slowed there paniced pace down. I heard 1 mention that it is best to not rush him back as he won't make it anyways. They loaded him up and litteraly slowly drove across the field. After the BS reports we found the nearest gas station and I poured straight bleach on me and using the radiator filler hose to rinse off. Than the acid kicked in :/ I pray to god I never have to hear that sound again as it gave me nightmares for about a year afterwords. I never knew the guys name or if he made. I hope he did and is alright
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No you can't have my rights. I'm not through with them!
Perfection is not a destination, it's a path. |
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Gothmog
busy lil bee bzz bzz bzz!  SSHOLEPosts: 172 Registered: 12/12/2003 Online
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4/8/2008 at 02:55 |
-My grandfather was my best friend when I was a little boy. He used to take me all around Philadelphia. We'd hit up every museum and he would tell me all about the world. It was like having your own personal curator walking you around. One Christmas Eve he wasn't feeling well and ended up sitting in a hospital for 12 hours waiting to be seen. He not only caught pneumonia, but they found out he had lung cancer. I watched this chubby little Irish man turn from his joyous self into a skeleton over the next 6 months. The last time I saw him he was unable to move in his bedroom, completely robbed of his dignity. He died a few days later while I was back home in Syracuse. I still miss him to this day.
-A good friend of mine in high school shot himself with a shotgun one evening. I shared a locker with him in gym class. I never opened that locker again to get my stuff. For all I know it's still in there.
-My brother's best friend shot himself over a girl. My brother was really messed up for awhile about it.
-We had a foreign exchange student in our class our senior year named Neils. He was from Germany. We watched in wonder one night as they ripped the Berlin Wall down. His family sent him a piece a few weeks later. We promised to visit each other when he went home. About a year later the girl he kept in constant contact showed up at my house looking scared and holding a letter. It was written in German but had a big black cross on it. We ended up going to visit the guy that sponsored his visit and he read it for us. He was riding his motorcycle on the Autobahn and got hit by a car. He died instantly.
-My aunt and uncle had their ups and downs, but they loved each other. He was a musician, so he kept really strange hours. They both smoked unfiltered Pall Malls. She ended up getting lung cancer. The night before she died she cried to my sister that she was scared of death. My uncle was diagnosed with lung cancer a few short years later. I'm almost convinced he willed it on himself. I remember taking a trip to Six Flags in NJ with my buddy Mike, and convincing him to spend the rest of the weekend in Philly. I sat and talked with my uncle for hours. He had been reduced to drinking pepsi but being unable to swallow it because the cancer had eaten away his esophagus. He told me he had made his peace and was waiting to be with his wife. He was my father's best friend and confidant. The day my uncle died the complications came on suddenly, but he told his kids that he was waiting for his brother. My father sprinted out of the house and drove 4 hours straight to the hospital. He missed his passing by 10 minutes. In my opinion he hasn't been the same man since.
-My grandmother died of Alzheimer's. When she really lost it she came to live with my family here in Syracuse for a few months. She used to call me John all the time. She thought I was her dead husband. One day I was sitting eating breakfast by myself when I suddenly heard "Tommy?" She was not only lucid, but she told me she could feel her mind going. I yelled for my mother but by the time she got to the room my grandmother was gone again. She died about a month later while I was at school in Buffalo. I rode a 14 hour bus trip to Philadelphia to see her off.
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"There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line." - Oscar Levant |
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This is as good a place as any to get your feelings hurt. Welcome. ;) -- tantrum
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