[Jimbaux never thought you’d slip away . . . ]
We’re looking at pictures taken three weeks ago today; these pictures were taken Tuesday 4 October.
Foaming On Tuesday
This is 4th Street in Gretna, Louisiana, just before a train of the New Orleans & Gulf Coast Railway shows up.
My ol’ woadie Blaze, who seems to be having plenty of success since he moved to the great Northern Frontier, responded to reading my prior post by telling me “Thanks for the shots and so sorry about the loss of your friend. I understand how you feel and getting out trackside shooting can be cathartic even when your heart isn’t in it…..”
He’s right. Truth be told, I actually did get some shots yesterday, 24 October, with minimal effort.
The truth is that most of the train pictures I’ve gotten lately, including the ones taken three weeks ago that you see in this post and including the ones I took yesterday, are made with minimal effort, slight diversions when I’m already in my truck on some mission unrelated to the making of photographic images.
In the case of these pictures that you see here, I was on a brief mission of edible supply procurement (i.e., I was hungry and grabbing a bite to eat.)
This train stopped in the middle of 4th Street for a reason that wasn’t apparent to me, but likely because there was some obstruction – like an illegally parked automobile – ahead.
These guys were waiting to cross the street-and-track, obviously.
A Community Grieves
The saying “the light that burns twice as bright burns half as long” seems to apply here. We were coworkers in college, working in the intense crucible of student media, butting heads often, but leaving with a respectable amount of respect for each other, and then not seeing each other for nearly a decade. That’s what happens when you “graduate” from places and institutions.
I’m so glad that I got to see her last summer. It was like we were working together again, sharing stories, having fun. Now, her employer and her alma mater, one-in-the-same, grieves. I miss her, and I’m grateful to have known her.
You, too, may often but heads with the people to whom you’re grateful, but you never know when they’ll go, and this was totally unexpected. I want you to take the time between now and the time you visit Jimbaux’s Journal again to let those who are important to you know how grateful you are to them.
That’s all.
Jimbaux
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Ah, another Catholic school grad(I went to Xavier HS in New York, a fine Jesuit institution, class of 1977). One can make jokes about being a “recovering Catholic” but my experience is that those schools fostered a much greater sense of community than any public school I ever encountered. The bonds are so much stronger it seems, even when it has been years since any of us last had contact. So it is with great sadness that we note the passing of one of our classmates. To paraphrase John Donne in his well known “For Whom the Bell Tolls” essay, the loss of any one of us diminishes us all. It does put a fine point on the need to appreciate those around us while they are here. As Garrison Keillor puts it, “funerals a wonderful thing, such a great outpouring of love and affection for the deceased, it’s too bad they miss it by only a few days…” I’m glad you got to reconnect, however briefly. My condolences on your loss.
Thanks, Tom. I really broke down earlier this evening when I read the death notice for the first time. I started with dry eyes, and even my chin was wet before I got halfway through.
I’m not sure if you misinterpreted it, but Rie and I were not high school classmates. Rather, we worked together in an intense environment – like the kind you describe, the kind that forge bonds – at The Nicholls Worth, the student newspaper at Nicholls State University. That was the purpose of the reunion last summer.
Thanks again.
Very sorry to hear about the loss of your colleague–as you said, we really have to make an effort to show how much we care while the ones who are important to us are still here.
Sometimes people are ripped away without warning or reason, leaving us forever changed from the way we were before their passing. I don’t know if the saying time heals all wounds is true, but it does fade them somewhat. All we can do is make the most of our own lives and remember how their short time here enriched us.