January 26, 1995 is a date discussed and annotated in many circles, small and larger. Looking back it would appear now the spirits were jumpy that day. Flowing.
It was unseasonably warm for mid winter in the Appalachian plateaus. A local storm was identified passing over the area but never opened into an extinguishing shower.
Katherine M. Gibbs of New Bedford, Ga., lost her husband, George S., at 4:54pm EST, 1/26/95, following a long illness. Emily C. Webb was resuscitated from cardiac disrhythmia under surgical anesthesia at 1:55pm PST, Vancouver Hospital Centre. George Gibbs and Emily Webb may have briefly crossed thresholds at the singular instance were death and re-birth slow to exchange their mutual respects.
The moon quivered that night (it registered first on the lunar seismometer for the early evening JPL shift) as it held the impact from an obscured meteor whose ejection from its twin companion satellite's orbit would otherwise have placed it on a straight vector towards the upper central plains of US.
What incorporeality did finally settle over Liberty's lucid surfaces that night appeared to take the form of a chain of letters among the soul-called plangent, seized for a time with the air's vibrancy.
You are the first to write me as you did this past day. I know it was your honest heart speaking to me. I know it was honest by the way it made my own heart turn and find that light, even as it still glows here this moment.
It made my throat tickle out a song I hadn't heard before. It made my feet step into a small minuet they composed just for their own enjoyment.
It was beautiful. I will remember it and I will treasure it,
In the past I know I have been a pain, and I am sorry. I know I am repeating myself, and I am sorry.
It's so much easier to write from behind another face - to put on a mask
I should put one on now. but I'm afraid of what I would say, and then what I wouldn't, or couldn't.
Please just know that you've already given me all the justification you ever could by your constant, tolerant .. presence
I don't mean to be the cloud stalking your day ,,,, when I can instead just be the guy down your street.
I will look for you on your bus
so, best, anonymously
Is this really the first real letter I've ever written to you? At least one that didn't start with an immediate Hardgrowth alert in class? As I'm sure you well know, I'm not all that use to writing letters, any where, any time. I think I'm jealous now of my Emily's no-pain with a pen. I'm sure she could write a letter now that might mean something to you. Think she could throw the gossip around too, Angelfood? I mean, like us, me -like really dish it deep! Think we should give her an audition? Really, is that all she's doing up there on stage any way, all through Our Town -dishin' the Grover's dirt? (so that's why I really was the only choice for this part!). And maybe that's why Katimski is so hot on Our Town any way. The whole thing might as well be Our School! Are we Liberty Corners? Grover's Liberties? We could write that, y'know, the three of us. It might just be sublimely juicy enough for Katimski by next year! Would you work on it with me?
I wish I could call and ask and find out but I don't know that you would really even pick it up for me anymore. I know you certainly wouldn't have your heart in it anyway, right?
So well, as my better Emily-half could say, Angeleena, I hope one day soon you can look at me one minute like you really saw me, like before.
Look for us next weekend, would you? We'll be the ones off mark, babbling and rushing our lines ,.., speaking out to an audience of just a few out there.
Still your friends, y'know !
Rayanne and Emily
Hey Angela, hope everything's going OK .. with all of you.
You should know the three of you make a lovely triangle. Only just a little jealous here. Well I have to say something in these letters…so, Mr. Katimski is encouraging me to write! I wasn't sure what I could write. But I had been wondering tonight if it would have been better to write you what I instead told you early this evening. But then that would have required it count for extra, way above and beyond, credit somewhere, even if I were to understand it all (No, Mr. Katimski wouldn't see it first before I 'turn it in'!). So, you and Jordan and Brian are now all a couple? Of..? Want to be featured in the next Liberty Lit edition? (I think we all have something to really write about now,huh? Just for the back pages?) Sorry, probably not funny just yet. Hope I wasn't giving you too much news tonight.
See you around lunch
Hey Rayanne, looked for you after rehearsal - where'd you disappear to? Good luck with the rest of the rehearsals! You were born for the Stage - Broadway! (yes-NY, of course; not Pittsburgh's) Thornton the Milder certainly had you in mind when he graf'd Emily the kinda-wilder! Just maybe do Our Town a favor and avoid that urge to sing the closing act. Oops, not to worry-that could never count against Good Luck R.!
I'm goeng to try this agan. I Knoe that we talked about this tonite but I never said all that I wantd to and ment to. I think the thing I wantd most to say was I don't always knoe at first whear I get my insparatoins from.
You knoe my song-Red. Its funny how I gess some minds works. mine any way. I did this one all of my own. Writting it I mean, I wondured why the song came so eazily. It was differant from all the other songs I've started. It almost wrote itself. And I thouht when I was working on it it was about my car - so the words just poored out and I didn't reilly worry about it.
but I think now may be I wasn't even writing about my car aftur all. I think I was reilly writing it for you. Well about you. I can see that better now. May be soon I can play it agan for you. In my car !- you can drive
and lissen to me play in the back seet
and then we can trie it in your kitjen, if you want - we'll let yur mom lissen in, if you want:)
I'll be by tomorow to pick you up. we'll see may be by than if I'll have enugh nerve to give you this note