Every time the question "who's the most famous person you've ever met" comes up, the first name that pops into my mind is Ray Bradbury. He came to my school in my junior year of high school. I was so excited! I had read several of his short stories, and I had read Dandelion Wine multiple times. I still remember the feel of that library copy of the book -- the plastic dust cover crinkling and the gummy residue of the clear tape. I had probably memorized his author photo from the back cover. Before the event, I imagined him sitting on a chair in the auditorium, the spotlight shining on him. Would I ask a question? What would I ask?
When someone asks which celebrity I met, I think of that image: Bradbury in the auditorium of Hiram Johnson High, spotlight shining down on him.
It didn't happen. Or it did, but I wasn't there for it. I had pneumonia, and although I tried to tough out the previous day at school, I was too sick. I went home early, and then I had to stay home the next day as well. I missed Bradbury.
So I have some empathy for Brian Williams. In case you missed it, 12 years ago when Williams was embedded in Afghanistan as a reporter, he was on a helicopter. A chopper an hour ahead of his was hit with RPG fire and went down in the sand. Shortly thereafter, Williams' own chopper was targeted by small arms fire and went down in a sandstorm, where they came upon the other chopper. His crew and the crew on the other chopper were evacuated together. The day he first reported the story, he told it as it occurred. But in the intervening years, he has re-told the story such that he was the one on the chopper that was hit with an RPG. Many people are accusing him of being a big lying liar who is trying to steal the troops' glory. I think he got Bradburied, just a little harder than I did.
Brains are weird. Have you ever experienced deja vu? Ever said something and then realized it hadn't happened that way and had to correct yourself? Ever convinced yourself you had a memory when it was really a story someone told you or a dream you had?
When Z was born, it was after a long and difficult labor, and then she was in distress. One day, I was telling someone the story of her birth, and I said that after they'd stitched me up, they wheeled me in to visit her in her isolette, but I had only stayed for a few minutes. "No," my mom interrupted, "you stayed for an hour or more." I was tired, I was stressed, and my memory had just straight-up failed me.
I feel bad that this happened to Brian Williams so publicly, and particularly given that his chosen profession is that of a credible reporter. But he's a human and he has a human, fallible brain, and I think it failed him. It happens. Let's give a guy a break.
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1 comment:
Totally agree!
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