Heaven's in the Sun

For some time now I have been curious as to the lives lived by the aged. This comes from working at the local historical society, a place occupied with more old people than my fingers. Not to mention the tasks I'm presented with are that of recording the headlines of the local news as far back as the Civil War. As I'm shuffling through the articles and reading the names and places of a time passed, I am struck by the simple realization that this is not fiction. Marriages, deaths, local crime, politics, slavery, buildings being build, roads being paved, the coming of the automobile (refered to as the "devil wagon")--these are all topics that surround me as I type from 9 til noon. This all happened. So, when I come across a headline such as "Slave woman kills two children, commits suicide", I can't help but wonder what sort of hell her life must have been.

It's easy when I'm in this train of thought, to apply it to the people that I see around me. Today a man came into the Society that I had seen a few times before. I previously had assumed he was a bum, a title I'm still not sure should be dismissed. But, today I learned his name is Donald. Before, he would come into the Society, say 'hello' to my boss, Karl, and then be on his way. I'd also occasionally see him strolling the downtown streets, surveying the gutters for long cigarette butts that were still slightly smokable or darting into Funny Pages Cafe to use their restrooms. Today, however, it seemed he wanted a little conversation. Instead of a greeting and a goodbye, he decided to divulge in a spiritual rambling that left all but Karl confused.

"King of Lord of Lords! Right?! And don't you forget it. I know it...I know it." Karl would reply with a "Yep."

Donald continued, "Heaven's in the sun.... I've been there. I can take you up there and bring you back right quick if you want!"

Karl laughed kindly, "No, that's alright."

Donald turned and left, saying, "I've been there...in the sun...", as he walked out the door. I must have been making my crinkled-brow, deep-thought, utterly-confused face, because Karl strolled over and explained to me that Donald used to be a smart man. Really smart. Some years back he was in a horrible car accident that left him with brain damage. He claims now that he went to heaven in the sun and came back and he spends his days looking at books about stars at the library and walks around downtown.

I would have discounted his ramblings for a life of drugs, which, when you live in a city known as 'the meth capitol of Missouri,' you can't really blame me. But coming across this picture of Donald's life I wonder....what about Karl's life? What about Ralph's life? or Doris'? or Cecy's? I wonder what the headlines of their experiences would read and I know there are more than what meets the eye. Did Donald have aspirations of running a business? Did he have a serious romance? A person is more than that surface and few words they present to the world. Sometimes that thought amazes me, and when you get to the heart of a person, you see where their heart resides. Hmm. That's even more powerful that the headlines that make their story...