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Turning grief into poetry
By SHERYL KAY LUTZ -- Inspiration comes in a variety of forms. For a corporate motivational speaker in VillaRosa, it was late-night television. A week had passed since Sept. 11. Dave Timmons and his wife were watching the Tonight Show, the first episode since the terrorist attacks. The result was Last Call, a 20-line poem that was picked up by Chicken Soup for the Soul of America (Health Communications Inc., 2002). "We don't even watch late night TV," said Timmons, 49. "But for some reason, there we were, watching Jay Leno, and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. I've always loved Crosby, Stills and Nash. And when they played their song, it was right then that I realized it was pretty clear no one else was coming out of the Trade Center alive. And for some reason, that just hit me like a ton of bricks." Having written folk songs in the past, Timmons felt he would not be able to sleep that night without attempting to pen a verse that would help him express his anguish. "It was just after midnight, and I grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil, and just started to brainstorm," he said. "I started writing words and random thoughts all over the paper, but interrupting my words I would get periods of sorrow, and I would just start to cry out loud, uncontrollably. Then it would pass, I'd write down a few more ideas, and then the sobbing would start again." Timmons sat that way for nearly three hours, when he thought he noticed something pass by his glass French doors. "I was sure it was my wife coming to check in on me, but it wasn't, and then I started to get chills, and shake," he said. After about 45 seconds the shaking subsided, and Timmons said he felt completely at peace. "I picked up my pen, and 45 minutes later, I finished the poem," he said. "I can't remember anything I've written ever coming together like that." It was just the release Timmons had wanted. He quickly typed it up and e-mailed it to some friends and associates, including the National Speakers Association of which he is a member. Several weeks later the association posted a Web page full of Sept. 11 tributes, one of which was Timmons' poem. "Then I got an e-mail in October from a Tom Lagana, another association member who I had never met," Timmons said. "It said, 'I read your poem and I submitted it to the Chicken Soup book. If they select it, they'll contact you to ask your permission to publish it. I hope that's OK with you." Response to the poem has been great, with many people reporting a sense of healing after reading it, Timmons said. One woman, Sara Green of Treasure Island, contacted Timmons because she recorded the poem to her own tune, and wanted to send the cassette to him. The two then went on to collaborate, and released the song in CD form. Timmons said he has never lived in New York, nor does he have any personal contacts there. "I can't really tell you what happened that night I wrote the poem because nothing like that has ever happened to me before," he said. "Some people think it was God, some say it was the spirit of the victims, and some people have told me the best channeling happens between 3 and 6 o'clock in the morning. "I don't know what it was, but all I can tell you is I really believe I was a co-author." -- You can contact Timmons at Dave@DaveTimmons.com. Sheryl Kay can be reached at skreporter@hotmail.com. Last CallAs smoke and heat diminished from the mangled steel and glass, The hope of rescue workers faded in and out so fast. These heroes of our nation working tirelessly to find A sound, a breath, some proof of life, to keep that hope alive. The victims were so innocent, just doing their life's work, In a nation called America, the most free on the Earth. Suddenly, a worker finds a cell phone flashing red. He plays the "last call" message, and this is what it said: "Hello, it's me. I'm calling to tell you I'm all right. I've made it up to heaven; I tried to call last night. The group that I arrived with is strong and brave and tall, And proud to be Americans while answering God's call. "I love you all and know I've been in all your thoughts and prayers. You need to know I felt no pain and safely made it here. Now let me say a prayer for you of closure and of life, Move on with courage and with faith that we will reunite. "I know it's sad: I'll age no more, but in this you can trust: My dreams were put back on the Earth in particles of dust. That dust is in the air you breathe; I've passed it on to you. So please breathe deeply every day and make my dreams come true."
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From the Times Marlene Sokol |
