Saints and Sinners: Learning the art of survival
Sometimes it takes a tragedy in our lives — or even a lesser kind of emergency — to make us realize that we are made of sterner stuff than we thought and have qualities of courage and resourcefulness we never expected we had.
I recall one occasion when a crippling winter snowstorm brought our community to its knees. It was rush hour on a Monday night in February. When Tuesday morning miraculously rolled around, we all had our share of stories of cooperation and pulling together and keeping each other’s spirits up.
On one bus run, a normal 40-minute ride turned into a six-hour ordeal of creep and crawl. Passengers worked out a rotation plan that allowed everybody in the crowded bus to sit for 20-minute periods.
Those who had food — mostly cookies and candy — shared it with others. One woman had an apple that was saved for last. The idea was to divide it into 50 pieces if the bus got marooned. In the meantime, it would become a symbol that all hope of survival was not gone.
As much as we hate snowstorms, I think we are secretly proud of ourselves after we make it through one of them. We are sensitive — and a little embarrassed — about the fact that we are such comfort-loving softies that we even need a genie to open our garage doors for us Thus, it reassures us to learn we can still take it if we have to.
But if we need a reminder — and we all do — of the moral and physical heroism human beings at their best are capable of when life hits us with it strongest punch, we should reread Rickenbacker’s book.
Here are some of the things he says which are worth pondering:
On realizing that material things are expendable: “We made ready to throw overboard everything that was moveable. I had frugally removed from my suitcase a bridge that my dentist had just made for me. But after a moment’s deliberation I threw that away too. Let the moment come when there is nothing left but life and you will find you do not hesitate over the fate of material possessions however deeply they may have been cherished.”
On seeing the bright side of adversity: “I bailed for hours with my hat — my wonderful old hat. This gave me exercise, besides keeping me from thinking too much.”
On appreciating life’s simple blessings: “Even the bones (of the sea gull which had miraculously landed on Rick’s hat) we chewed and swallowed. The meat was raw and stringy and fishy. But it tasted fine …”
On not giving up: “Three men were thrown out of the raft by a giant wave. With Reynolds so weak, I was sure he was going to drown. But he mustered the strength to haul himself back in. I shall never stop marveling at the hidden resources of men whose minds never give up.”
On the strengths of companionship: “I shall always believe that, had we separated, few of us would be alive now. A strong man may last a long time alone but men together somehow manage to last longer.”
Is there a moral to this story? Yes — and it is this: We are wondering these days what will happen to us if terrorism strikes another deadly blow at our country. Will we make it through?
At such times we would be wise to remind ourselves of Rickenbacker’s inspirational story. With faith, determination and teamwork, all is not lost.
George Plagenz is a syndicated columnist.