I rejoiced with the rest of you when the Chilean miracle unfolded on television the other day. It takes a special person to go underground for a living. I could never do this myself. I am uncomfortable standing in the opening of a cave. To travel almost seven hundred metres beneath rock and soil is not something in my bucket list.
When news of the disaster first came I must admit I mentally wrote off the souls involved. When it was learned that they were alive , entombed in a subterranean chamber, I thought what a horrible way to die. As hope began to glimmer so did my interest and much to my shame I was drawn to the spectacle as progressive reports drew us incrementally closer to the spectacular ending. I had become one of those rubbernecking whom I used to scorn at motor vehicle accidents while I directed them around crash sites.
If nothing else, this episode has shown me that human nature and the primal forces that drive us, survival and rescue, are powerful. The need to vicariously participate in these critical events is overwhelming.
This struggle to survive, by those in peril and those seeking to rescue, is a recurring theme. It forms a foundation for story telling , wether recounting fact or weaving tales of fiction. Writing and reading are part of life.
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