collective memory

Funny...what the mind does...

Yesterday I was brought up short with all of the talk about the anniversary of Elvis' death - 30 years ago. You see, until yesterday, in my mind, Elvis died way before my time - before I was born that is. Shocked I was, to realize that in fact I was born - was living, for less than a decade mind you, but with no collective memory of this event. Apparently I was much more interested in our family vacation to Adventure Land and the Iowa State Capital, and the Iowa State Fair than a major loss to the music world. And, granted Elvis was no JFK or MLK, Jr., but people are talking about him non-stop for several days on this 30th anniversary - enriching our collective memory.

Funny...what the mind does...

Tuesday night I found myself looking at the White House, the Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln monuments from the roof-top restaurant of the Hotel Washington with a group of Lutheran Volunteers (www.lutheranvolunteercorps.org) about to begin their year of service - oh, by the way, they were definitely not around when Elvis died.

I am an alum of this service corps program and they asked if I had a favorite story from my volunteer year. Several memories came to mind...3 hour house meetings, the continuum of simplified life-style and resulting conflict, an exhausting Thanksgiving meal at the homeless shelter...But my filtering screen automatically slipped into place, they will, after all, find out for themselves...and I talked about my bathroom space being breached by my male housemate while I was in the shower, and the shelter resident who went back to the street and his drugs, but whom I ran into several years later, cleaned up, giving back and serving in Americorps. I'll never forget hearing his deep baritone voice behind me at an Americorps gathering - it was almost too much to hope for, could it really be him? Yet, I would know that voice today, never needing to see the face. And, yes, it was him, our paths crossed again and we reminisced about life at the shelter, his journey to recovery and his valiant, though futile, attempts to teach me chess - our shared, collective memory.

Funny...what the mind does...