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On writing, righting and apathy

image from multimediaseattle.org

The above photo depicts a brutal form of execution known as necklacing, carried out by forcing a rubber tire, filled with petrol, around a victim’s chest and arms, and setting it on fire. The victim may take up to 20 minutes to die, suffering severe burns in the process. The practice became a common method of lethal lynching during disturbances in South Africa in the 1980s and 1990s.

Photojournalist Kevin Carter was the first to photograph a public execution by necklacing in South Africa in the mid-1980s. He later spoke of the images:

“I was appalled at what they were doing. I was appalled at what I was doing. But then people started talking about those pictures… then I felt that maybe my actions hadn’t been at all bad. Being a witness to something this horrible wasn’t necessarily such a bad thing to do.”

He went on to say:

“After having seen so many necklacings on the news, it occurs to me that either many others were being performed (off camera as it were) and this was just the tip of the iceberg, or that the presence of the camera completed the last requirement, and acted as a catalyst in this terrible reaction. The strong message that was being sent, was only meaningful if it were carried by the media. It was not more about the warning (others) than about causing one person pain. The question that haunts me is ‘would those people have been necklaced, if there was no media coverage?”

(Source: Wikipedia: Necklacing)

In March 1993 Carter made a trip to Sudan. The sound of soft, high-pitched whimpering near the village of Ayod attracted Carter to an emaciated Sudanese toddler. The girl had stopped to rest while struggling to a feeding center, whereupon a vulture had landed nearby. He said that he waited about 20 minutes, hoping that the vulture would spread its wings. It didn’t. Carter snapped the haunting photograph and chased the vulture away. (Source: Wikipedia: Kevin Carter)

image courtesy of photobucket.com

It is unknown what happened to this young girl after this photo was taken. What is widely known is that Kevin Carter won a Pulitzer Prize for this photograph, presented to him on May 23, 1994 at Columbia University.

On July 27, 1994 Carter drove to the Braamfontein Spruit river, near the Field and Study Centre, an area where he used to play as a child, and took his own life by taping one end of a hose to his pickup truck’s exhaust pipe and running the other end to the passenger-side window. He died of carbon monoxide poisoning at the age of 33. Portions of Carter’s suicide note read:

“I am depressed … without phone … money for rent … money for child support … money for debts … money!!! … I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings and corpses and anger and pain … of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often police, of killer executioners…I have gone to join Ken [recently deceased colleague Ken Oosterbroek] if I am that lucky.”

This is certainly not a new story, but it’s something that’s been on my heart lately. Photographers, journalists and writers give voice to suffering and chaos. Hopefully in an attempt to draw the world’s attention to it, thereby calling others to action. But in that moment and the moments immediately following, what are they doing about it? Would Kevin Carter be alive today if he had set down that camera and come to the aid of that little girl? Would the darkness have consumed him had he chosen to be a light instead of a neutral observer? I just don’t know.

I’ve said before that one of the occupational hazards of being a writer is that you’re always writing. Every situation becomes a potential story. But I never want to come to a place where what I put on paper becomes more important than inserting myself into the bigger story of life. Especially if by abandoning my mental pen and notebook I might have a hand in changing a tragedy into a happily ever after, or at least an after.

“Some people confuse acceptance with apathy, but there’s all the difference in the world. Apathy fails to distinguish between what can and what cannot be helped; acceptance makes that distinction. Apathy paralyzes the will-to-action; acceptance frees it by relieving it of impossible burdens.” – Arthur Gordon

“By far the most dangerous foe we have to fight is apathy – indifference from whatever cause, not from a lack of knowledge, but from carelessness, from absorption in other pursuits, from a contempt bred of self satisfaction” – William Osler

Pardon me while I rant incessantly…


There are many reasons why I don’t watch Martha Stewart on television. Here’s another one. The following is an excerpt from the opening of her show yesterday. I recorded it and typed what she said verbatim, with the exception of a few uhs and ums. The comments in parentheses are my thoughts as I’m watching this touching little dog tribute.

“I think all of you have heard this already. There was a tragic propane tank explosion at the Pazazz Pet Boarding Kennel in Carbon County, PA. (Actually no. My satellite provider does not offer the 24 hour All Dogs News Network.) And it resulted in the death of at least 17, probably a few more dogs. Among those who perished was Paw Paw’s grandson, Ghenghis Khan who I picked to become one of my own dogs. (Who is Paw Paw?) And fortunately Karen Tracy the co-owner and trusted Chow breeder of the kennel did not sustain any injuries, but her home was very badly damaged. (Well, praise God that she is not injured.) She is currently living with her brother nearby. I spoke with Karen yesterday and she told me that three of her Chows are at the veterinarian in intensive care. I think two more died yesterday of injuries. But the good news is that there are still a few dogs remaining from Paw Paw’s lineage, and I’m very grateful for that. Paw Paw was such a great dog. (Oh, Martha! That’s great. We need to keep breeding lots and lots of dogs, especially dogs with bloodlines from a dog that was special enough to be owned by you. It’s not like thousands of dogs are being euthanized everyday because nobody wants them.) Despite the horrific tragedy, Karen remains hopeful and optimistic and plans to rebuild her kennels. (By the way, what happened to the driver of the propane tanker? I’m sure he’s okay, since you haven’t mentioned him yet.) So I’d like to wish a speedy recovery, also to Timothy Kleinhagen, who was the truck driver who was delivering the propane that somehow exploded, and he is in critical condition since the explosion. So, anyway (SO, ANYWAY?!?) – Timothy courageously attempted to remove the dogs from harm’s way before narrowly escaping very serious tragedy himself. (You mean he’s still not out of the woods, and will probably spend several months in the hospital undergoing painful rehabilitation? Well, that sucks. But at least he saved some of your precious dogs.) So, Karen wanted me to tell you how touched and grateful she is by the tremendous outpouring from the public. Yada, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah…”

Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not a dog hater. Dogs are great. And I was actually sympathetic as I watched and listened to her outpouring of sadness and regret about the loss of her puppy and the other dogs. That is, until she mentioned a HUMAN BEING who is in intensive care as a result of this tragedy almost as an afterthought! Give me a freaking break! If you check out her blog, there are more tributes to dogs past and present with lots of pictures, and approximately one sentence devoted to the man who risked his life in an attempt to save them. Ridiculous! Almost as ridiculous as that stupid woman who publicly mourned the loss of her pet chimp while her friend clings to life in the hospital with her face torn off. (But don’t get me started…)