Depope DecompTragedy ain't funny, and the recent departure of Pope John Paul II is a tragedy to millions. But sometimes tragedy revives crumbs of dark humor that would otherwise have gone forgotten forever. Such as this excerpt from an article about the Signoracci family in Rome, who are the papal coroners of choice, although their services were utilized this time. Perhaps the following is the reason why:
The Signoraccis have handled the bodies of some of the most important people in Rome. In addition to the three popes, the family took care of the body of Aldo Moro, the former prime minister who was kidnapped by terrorists and found murdered in the trunk of a car in Rome in 1978, and the former King Farouk of Egypt, who died in exile in Rome in 1965. But the family's relationship with the Vatican conveyed a special prestige - though not without glitches.
Pope Paul VI's body, for example, began to decompose as it lay in state in the heat of August 1978. "The features became less sharp and the face took on a greenish tinge," according to an Associated Press report at the time.
Network Newsman BluesThey say "things happen in threes." When Tom Brokaw retired and Dan Rather followed him (under a cloud of controversy! Who could've imagined?) I figured that my guy, Peter Jennings, would be soon to follow. Indeed, that has happened, and the news is far worse than anything I could've dreaded for the man who has brought a suave, disciplined and courteous touch to my network nightly news for 23 years - lung cancer.
I wish him well, and all I wanted to say about it here was that his courteousness was extended to us once again, characteristically, in his decision to address the television audience about his illness, despite his raspy voice and the humbling eventuality of having to consider getting his affairs in order due to his old, long-abadoned habit. "Yes, I was weak, and during 9/11 I picked up smoking again for a time" he said (I'm paraphrasing).
That took nerve - probably more than I have right now. The thing about smoking is that it becomes second-nature, and you really forget about all the cigarettes you smoke. But one day there will be a smoke that you take that will start the whole ball rolling towards cancer. You never know whether the next one you smoke, or one you will smoke eventually, or the one you just smoked or another that you finished five years ago will be "the one" that sends you in for chemo, surgery - perhaps the morgue if you're unlucky. It's a gamble that far too many lose.
When Frank Reynolds died, it was so sudden and shocking and we didn't really get a chance to thank him for his stability and excellence. With Max Robinson, he just disappeared from the air one day and mere months later he was gone - no chance for viewers to thank him for the enormous achievements that he obviously worked so hard to gain. What I appreciate about Peter is that he took the time, this time, to thank
us for watching him all these years.
Way to go, Peter Jennings, and God be with you. Thank you for bringing me both good news and bad, through conditions which must have annoyed you greatly, such as having to read the Dow Jones averages while you were reporting from the Mexico City earthquake, and conditions which did not with the same air of professionalism, evenhandedness and decency, practically every time, all of these years.
Another Reason Why Most Ex-Hippies Suck
I remember a time when I was visiting the home of the married couple who basically ran the ultra-liberal, left wing, commie end of the dial radio station to which I devoted the better part of 23 of my now nearly 26 years as a radio DJ. The wife said "Diane Sawyer has gone to ABC." The husband took on a gray, clouded expression and said grimly "What a shame. We'll never see her face again." I naively chimed in and said "You never watch ABC? What about Peter Jennings?" And he raised up in his seat and blasted at me "What about that no-good, Liberal BASTARD?"
That was the day that I learned that the top people at my red flag flying radio frequency of freedom for the masses were closet conservatives. For whatever reason, it was also the last time I stopped over there to hang out.
Uncle Dave Lewis
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