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There is no cure for Chronic Pain, but there is Pain
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Istanbul Turkey summer 1976
It was the year my mother died, my sister had married a man from Turkey. He had to return to his country to finish his obligation to the Turkish military. I was invited along with my brother who is one year older than me to spend three months in Turkey. It was a fantastic journey into another culture and lifestyle at the age of 11. Only three months prior my mom died. Driving throughout the countryside visiting ports in the Mediterranean Sea, and dining with families; as well as restaurants, in the country. We had gone to Istanbul to pick up my sister who had just flown in. I was sitting on the side of the hill in a bright sunny day at the airport. We had been making crosses with dry strands of grass on the hillside. The clouds rolled by easily, and my sister left with my brother to the airport to go to the cookie shop and then use the restrooms. She said she saw a janitor standing on the latter, working on a fixture’ in the ceiling. I was alone now sitting on the hillside as they crossed a main drive way to the building that was four stories high. She had gone to the counter with my brother standing- on her left, he was 12. She said she began to walk away from the counter towards the restrooms when the death shattering glass blasted through the windows of the entrance and all the glass and the cookie parlor cases became engulfed in a deafening blast. She hunched over my brother and held him close to her chest as the glass impacted her back. At the moment of the explosion, I jumped to my feet wide-eyed and hysterical. But I did not utter a shout. I walked down the hill for the building in which all four stories of Windows corrupted and rained down on those who were walking below. As I walked halfway across the parking lot, I looked straight ahead and saw a man in a white T-shirt, he walking towards me mumbling in his own language~ I’m sure’ or maybe it was American “help me, help me… help me-“ his voice was not loud. I stared directly at his face, he had black curly hair and then all I could see was red blood finally misted with shards of glass to the collar of his white T-shirt, where his T-shirt showed his arms it was the same sparkly blood impacted arms. He had on blue jeans, and I do not remember his shoes. My world become surreal, but I remember moving out of his way as he walked past me. As I turned to look behind me, I saw a blue tank pullout onto the parking lot arena, I also noticed soldiers with machine guns flanking out on either side of me. I turn back around to look at the building and all the devastation. I stood there not feeling anything-just shock. I turned around again and my brother-in-law had been there as well. He grabbed me and took me outside the circle of the soldiers and the tank. I began to ask about my brother and sister but he had no answers at that time. About 30 minutes past and people on the top 4th floor where waving. It took a while to realize there was no other threat, and then the people could come down and rejoin their loved ones. My sister came out with my brother crying. Apparently the man who was working on the light fixture was trying to defuse a bomb. Looking back I find it amazing that the authorities so used to terrorist acts no longer warn people or have the ability to warn people of impending doom. That is my experience of my terrorist aftermath. Amazingly! My sister’s thick wool sweater protected her from all the glass, and she went to the hospital where they picked out the pieces that had gotten to her skin. I remember handing her my cross made of straw. I never doubted from that point forward that God would not see me through everything. As to how I consider to deal with the terrorist problem in our planet? I plan to write and tell people my experiences. I plan to write questions but hopefully the right answers ‘that’ never seem to get asked’ of those who could make a difference. I believe I have a right to stick to my opinions even if others think they are ill founded. That being said, I have never felt the need to harm someone because we disagreed on words-- or property. I believe God arranges things in life to be wonderful and magical; as long as, we are willing to seek his guidance. I think it’s up to getting the right type of influence into those people who make the decisions on life. I have never felt traumatized sense that event, I have felt life is a journey of happenings that I cannot control. But with God’s help, I would always be able to control myself. Thomas A. SUTOR P.O. Box 2343 Lompoc CA 93438 Rockhawk.com
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