Tuesday, September 13, 2011

April 1st early evening

I've just awoke from the nightmare I've had so many times in the past.  That man from Cincinnati, Mr. Stone, isn't able to drag Ben in from the ocean.  He reaches for my son and at the last moment, comes up without him.  Ben is washed out to sea, choking and screaming out, pleading for someone to help him.  I come to, unable to formulate his name, my mouth contorted, frozen in fear.

I recall thinking, when news of his near drowning reached me, that his situation had at last, gotten away from him.  The moment had finally come where his intemperance had gotten the better of him.  Maybe this was the very thing he needed to have happen in order for him to come around.  To see things as they were and address matters.

It wasn't until many years passed, until the last ties between us were severed, that my son's misfortune that day at the beach were realized to having hadn't been an accident at all.

9-12-1873 Buffalo Daily Courier

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