June 6, 1944
Omaha Beach
Normandy, France
To heaven, whose name in I trust as representing heaven at this unGodly hour,
Raymond Jerome has blessed his papa
Tell my baby boy they're going to sing songs bout him
They'll whisper his name
and call him "Thunder Boy"
I am thinking of you constantly
as my hands tremble and shake at the terrible deeds and act they have done today
where would I be
not here
Pahto [Mt. Adams] is where I'd rather be
where the breeze makes even the ugliest blade of cheat grass look pretty
where drunks and inferiority are much more comforting
The day I left
you don't know it
but baby
I left my soul with you
so that it could stay beautiful prancing in your shadow
that it might have a chance at still being human as I lie there in bed with you that one morning
as I prepared to jump onto the Greyhound down Highway 97 and into Hell
and I think of my son again
I wonder
is he taking care of our favorite girl
does he smile at you for me
laugh and cry and hope
tell him to hold his mama for me
His eyes say it all
This place I am at
we came before the sun rose
just like the ancient ones
we called it a sacred ceremony
it is dark now and many have been lost
it isn't so sacred now
It was a massacre
instead of flesh tearing
and instead of blood spilling
I saw spirits
and dreams
and hope
blown to the skies
Today there is no heaven
I want to sing
I want to dance
I want to feel human
but I can't
All I can do is pray
I can wish
I can wonder
Do you, my love
Still love me tender
.... Some time later [beginning in German]
süße Liebe, [sweet love]
Ich dich auch weiterhin ängstlich schreiben [ I continue to write you anxiously]
und hoffentlich [and hopefully]
die Inder unter meiner Obhut [the Indian- the American Soldier under my care]
spricht mit mir noch mehr [talks to me even more]
Ich frage ihn, Fragen [I ask him questions]
Er fragt mich, von mir im Gegenzug [ he asks of me in return]
Er fragt nach Siena [He asks about Sienna]
unsere schöne Tochte [our beautiful daughter]
rseine Augen leuchten [his eyes light up]
Er erzählt mir, das ist, was wir gemeinsam haben [he tells me we have a lot in common]
Liebe, [love]
Trotz der schrecklichen Dinge getan hat jeder Mensch [despite the horrible things each man has in common]
das ist, was wir gemeinsam haben die meisten [this is what we have in common]
Although it is my responsibility to treat this man harshly
I can do nothing but respect him
His life and his fate are in my hands
He asks if he will die soon
He observes that the Jew and the American Indian have a lot in common
the difference is that they put a M1 Garand in his hand
Both are oppressed people
each with their own death camps
how can people do such things to each other
this is what he asks
We never find an answer
though we ask a lot of questions about it
He says he's glad to have been captured
now it might be possible to see his wife and child again
he tells me that he wrote to his wife and son while out on the beach
He says he lost the piece of paper it was on
he tries to recall it from memory
I tell him I will help him rewrite it.
-Nick Ross [10.24.2010]
I can't remember how it happened exactly. All I was told was that I was not say a word and most likely not even make eye contact with the ticket person. I didn't and it wasn't hard. My two uncles were excited to go to the theater this time. They usually weren't. Between the kids, the jobs, the wife, etc. there wasn't enough time to enjoy something petty like a matinee flick in the air conditioned movie house.
Omaha Beach
Normandy, France
To heaven, whose name in I trust as representing heaven at this unGodly hour,
Raymond Jerome has blessed his papa
Tell my baby boy they're going to sing songs bout him
They'll whisper his name
and call him "Thunder Boy"
I am thinking of you constantly
as my hands tremble and shake at the terrible deeds and act they have done today
where would I be
not here
Pahto [Mt. Adams] is where I'd rather be
where the breeze makes even the ugliest blade of cheat grass look pretty
where drunks and inferiority are much more comforting
The day I left
you don't know it
but baby
I left my soul with you
so that it could stay beautiful prancing in your shadow
that it might have a chance at still being human as I lie there in bed with you that one morning
as I prepared to jump onto the Greyhound down Highway 97 and into Hell
and I think of my son again
I wonder
is he taking care of our favorite girl
does he smile at you for me
laugh and cry and hope
tell him to hold his mama for me
His eyes say it all
This place I am at
we came before the sun rose
just like the ancient ones
we called it a sacred ceremony
it is dark now and many have been lost
it isn't so sacred now
It was a massacre
instead of flesh tearing
and instead of blood spilling
I saw spirits
and dreams
and hope
blown to the skies
Today there is no heaven
I want to sing
I want to dance
I want to feel human
but I can't
All I can do is pray
I can wish
I can wonder
Do you, my love
Still love me tender
.... Some time later [beginning in German]
süße Liebe, [sweet love]
Ich dich auch weiterhin ängstlich schreiben [ I continue to write you anxiously]
und hoffentlich [and hopefully]
die Inder unter meiner Obhut [the Indian- the American Soldier under my care]
spricht mit mir noch mehr [talks to me even more]
Ich frage ihn, Fragen [I ask him questions]
Er fragt mich, von mir im Gegenzug [ he asks of me in return]
Er fragt nach Siena [He asks about Sienna]
unsere schöne Tochte [our beautiful daughter]
rseine Augen leuchten [his eyes light up]
Er erzählt mir, das ist, was wir gemeinsam haben [he tells me we have a lot in common]
Liebe, [love]
Trotz der schrecklichen Dinge getan hat jeder Mensch [despite the horrible things each man has in common]
das ist, was wir gemeinsam haben die meisten [this is what we have in common]
Although it is my responsibility to treat this man harshly
I can do nothing but respect him
His life and his fate are in my hands
He asks if he will die soon
He observes that the Jew and the American Indian have a lot in common
the difference is that they put a M1 Garand in his hand
Both are oppressed people
each with their own death camps
how can people do such things to each other
this is what he asks
We never find an answer
though we ask a lot of questions about it
He says he's glad to have been captured
now it might be possible to see his wife and child again
he tells me that he wrote to his wife and son while out on the beach
He says he lost the piece of paper it was on
he tries to recall it from memory
I tell him I will help him rewrite it.
-Nick Ross [10.24.2010]
I can't remember how it happened exactly. All I was told was that I was not say a word and most likely not even make eye contact with the ticket person. I didn't and it wasn't hard. My two uncles were excited to go to the theater this time. They usually weren't. Between the kids, the jobs, the wife, etc. there wasn't enough time to enjoy something petty like a matinee flick in the air conditioned movie house.
I figured as much because I thought that was how my life was supposed to be as well. I was aspiring to be a dude's dude, a man;s man. I would ride horses, do the whole cattleman's and ranch hand bit. I would pour myself into the art of earning the life by the sweat of my brow and weariness of my muscles. I would be a logger, a jock, a local legend worthy of a conversation starter. . . "you remember that Nick..." I would tear it up on the gridiron and on the hardwood. I would be a fierce lover, a playa, and just a stud.
It never happened that way.
No when I went into that theater, I came out sporting a new cultural DNA. I would learn to pay attention to my uncle's story telling ability. I would pick up on diction, pauses, the tone and depth. The flow of energy. I would pick up on a new love and to beat it was my first church service. I loved stories and story telling. I loved my poverty. I loved alcoholsim. I loved pedophilia, perversity, and hyper sexuality, I loved addictions, and I loved saitire . Body parts being blown to bits was no different. I realized that in the span of a 10 minute scene. I loved Steven Spielberg. It was Saving Private Ryan that turned me to this love. And when Quinten Tarantino and Ingllourious Basterds came along it confirmed it.
Project Zero is underway...
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