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                              Stuck In Traffic
            "Current Events, Cultural Phenomena, True Stories"
                         Issue #37 - May 2001

         Contents: 

         Cultural Phenomena:
         On Witnessing Executions
 
 
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                 Cultural Phenomena
On Witnessing Executions

I have been thinking about how much death I want in my life.  It 
started with all the news stories about the impending execution of 
Timothy McVeigh, the man convicted of murdering 168 people in the 
bombing of the Oklahoma City Federal building.  

There has been much debate over how public his execution should be, 
most of it over an Internet media company's request to broadcast the 
execution on the Internet.  It amazes me how quickly the chattering 
classes and the talking heads have managed to take a stand on the 
issue.  Death is a big thing.  Death by execution is even bigger.  
Before I could come up with my own position on the McVeigh execution, 
I had to answer that very odd question, "How much death do I want in 
my life?" 
 
Pretty much my only experience with death is at funerals.  
Occasionally over the years, I've attended the funerals of friend and 
co-workers.  I'm proud of the fact that I've attended as many funerals 
as I have.  "Proud" is perhaps a very odd choice of words, considering 
the event; but I'm sticking to my guns on this one.  For the record, 
it's not out of some morbid superiority complex that I'm proud.  It's 
not like I'm gloating that I have somehow survived longer than they 
have.  I'm proud of my funeral attendance because I was able to make 
myself do it.  

Most recently, a co-worker of mine, a fine fellow by the name of 
Averall Miller passed away suddenly of a severe asthma attack.  I 
didn't know him well, but I knew him well enough to know he was a 
salt-of-the-earth kind of guy.  While we work in the same 
organization, our paths didn't cross to often.  I could have made 
excuses.  I could have avoided going.  And indeed, I wavered until the 
very last minute before committing myself to attending.  I didn't want 
to go to his funeral.  I didn't particularly even feel a social 
obligation to go.  But somehow, some way, it felt important to go.  

In These Modern Times, rituals have become unfashionable.  Ritual is 
for the superstitious.  Ritual is for people who lack the intellectual 
capacity to understand something.  Ritual is for wussies.  But that's 
so far from the truth it makes me wonder if the guardians of our 
culture, the talking heads of our era, are actually aliens.  

Averall's funeral was somewhat typical of funerals in the South, a 
mixture of tribute and religion.  At first glance, Averall's life 
seemed abut as average as one could get.  But in the end, the life of 
an average man and his family is remarkable.  The fact that he was 
able to support his family, get through hard times with them, maybe 
even have a little fun every now and then, seems like an amazing 
accomplishment in retrospect.  And the religious message was simple 
and clear.  Life goes on.  It goes on for us.  It goes on for Averall.  
We heard it from the preacher.  We heard it in the hymns.  We heard it 
from scripture.  

I have a ritual of my own at funerals.  It's not one that I invented.  
But I saw it at my Grandmother's funeral many years ago.  She was born 
and raised in a small town in west Texas.  This is an area of the 
country where people can still wear cowboy hats with sincerity.  This 
is an area of the country where people still check up on each other to 
make sure they're ok.  This is an area of the country where 
"community" is so deeply ingrained into the landscape that you never 
hear the word used.  

At my grandmother's funeral, I got a sense of this community, not from 
seeing nearly everyone in town attend, but by a ritual I observed at 
the service.  Like most funerals in the south, it was "open casket," 
which means that everyone can walk up in front of the body and see it 
for him or herself.  I noticed that almost all of the elderly people 
attending reached out and touched my grandmother's body as the passed 
by.  Seemed like a rude and ghastly thing to do at the time.  I found 
out later that this was a ritual practiced by many folks who grew up 
in the country.  It took me years to understand, but now I know why.  
Once you touch the body of a deceased friend, there's no way you can 
deny to yourself, at any level, the fact that this person has passed 
away, never to return.  So I have adopted this ritual as my own.  Did 
I really want to touch the dead body of Averall Miller?  No.  This is 
not something you do for fun.  I did it because it forced me to deal 
with death.  

My other grandmother is getting on in years.  I can't imagine here 
being around for much longer.  The family has had more than one scare 
already in which we thought her death was at hand.  What am I going to 
do?  Pretend that she's not dying?  Am I going to ignore her?  Shelter 
myself from the pain and leave her alone?  Of course not.  She lives 
half way across the country from me, so I do not see her daily.  But I 
try to be a part of her life to the extent I can.  We speak on the 
phone.  I send her letters.  I send her pictures.  And the last time I 
visited her, at a Very Nice retirement home in Tulsa, I didn't just 
sit by her bedside in a deathwatch vigil.  I did in fact try to bring 
a little bit of fun and life into her room and the retirement center.  
We went out to eat.  We drove around Tulsa.  Actually, we got lost in 
Tulsa, but it seemed like an adventure at the time.  

The last night of my visit, she told me, point blank, that she was 
tired of living.  What do you say in return?  Should I have given her 
my best pep-rally style speech about how she still has so much to live 
for?  That she's going to get through here current medical crisis just 
fine and get back to a normal life again?  Maybe.  Maybe I should have 
tried.  But it didn't feel right to me.  All I could say in return is, 
"I know you are." I honestly think she appreciated the fact that I 
showed some sympathy to her situation, rather than to pretend that 
every thing is going to be ok.  

I wouldn't be right for me to ignore the fact that she's dying.  It 
would be nice to pretend otherwise.  But it's important that we be 
sympathetic and supportive of our loved ones and face death with them 
as much as possible.  

It's important that we face death; that we deal with it.  Ignoring 
death is not healthy for our loved ones, our community, or us.  

What then about executions?  I say it's even more important that we 
face executions head on.  Deal with them directly.  Not only are 
executions about death.  They are about the fact that we are causing 
it.  

I am not going to argue about the death penalty.  That's a different 
subject all together.  I'm willing to accept, at least for the sake of 
argument, that there are some crimes so bad that society as a whole 
does not feel like justice has been served unless the criminal is put 
to death.  

Given that executions are going to happen, and given that our society 
as a whole makes them happen I think it's important that we face them 
together, as a society.  Therefore I have to say that I think it's 
both appropriate and necessary that executions be public events that 
the society as a whole can see.  

And, frankly, if an event requires an in-person attendance, it's not 
public enough for something this important.  So I have to come out in 
favor of broadcasting executions.  I recognize that doing so is a 
morbid, unpleasant thing.  I recognize that it's inappropriate for 
some to see it and it's ok for people to choose not to see executions.  
I'm willing to accept putting procedures in place to prevent people 
who shouldn't see them (minor children for example) and I'm willing to 
put procedures in place so that people don't accidentally get 
subjected to the trauma of the execution.  But I think every member of 
society that wants to see an execution should have a reasonable 
opportunity to do so.  

I don't want to attend the funerals of acquaintances and loved ones.  
I don't want to touch the bodies of the deceased.  But it's a 
necessary and important ritual that helps me to accept the fact that 
people die.  

I don't want my grandmother to die.  But at the same time it's 
important to not ignore her failing health and it's even more 
important to be sympathetic and supportive when she says she's "tired 
of living." 

We, as a society, don't want to see a real live person being put to 
death, no matter what their crime is; but it's important that we do 
so.  It's important that we bear witness.  


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                 About Stuck In Traffic

Stuck In Traffic is a monthly magazine dedicated to evaluating 
current events, examining cultural phenomena, and sharing true 
stories.  

                      Why "Stuck In Traffic"?

Because getting stuck in traffic is good for you.  It's an 
opportunity to think, ponder, and reflect on all things, from the 
personal to the global.  As Robert Pirsig wrote in Zen and the Art 
of Motorcycle Maintenance, 

         "Let's consider a reevaluation of the situation in 
         which we assume that the stuckness now occurring, 
         the zero of consciousness, isn't the worst of all 
         possible situations, but the best possible 
         situation you could be in.  After all, it's exactly 
         this stuckness that Zen Buddhists go to so much 
         trouble to induce...." 

                   Contact Information

All queries, submissions, subscription requests, comments, and 
hate-mail should be sent to Calvin Powers via E-mail 
(powers@attglibal.net).

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Stuck In Traffic is published and copyrighted by Calvin Powers 
who reserves all rights.  Individual articles are copyrighted by 
their respective authors.  Unsigned articles are authored by Calvin 
Powers.  

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