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The best moment of your life (so far...)

post #1 of 44
Thread Starter 

the best (magical) moment of my life (so far and always?), is also
(in retrospect) one of the worst as well.
the worst in the sense that i fell hard and broke my heart.

like death, my heart still
grieves what is now gone, what was.

the first and only time i fell in love.

i had seen this guy only one time before, and it was all
that corny " love at first sight " stuff, it literally felt
like i had walked off a cloud, and went swimming in a
glorious sunset... he was so beautiful, so graceful.

then he was gone, and i was left with the image of him
burned in my mind, the sight of him...

then a few years later at a coffeeshop i was sitting with
a few close friends, and my sister outside, we were talking
about - love at first sight and the possibities
of fate, destinies, attractions - everyone had a different

then in those moments of conversation, a blue VW bug pulled
up to the curb, my back was to it, so i didnt know it was there;
but i did, somehow. i turned and saw him step
out of the car, that same guy. he was with a woman, and
they were walking across the street toward the coffeeshop.

i turned my head to my friends, and tried to explain that
"he" was walking toward us, my "love at first sight" from
years previous - this felt like a dream - had we not just
been talking about fate? had we not just been talking about

it took them a few moments to realize what i was trying to
say, then they all seemed to understand simaltaneuosly, and
their faces showed shock! surprise, and wide grins

he and his friend went inside to get coffee's & latte's and
i sat there trying to breathe. as he passed me on the way in
his eyes found mine and smiled. i was fallen.

he came outside and sat at the table next to ours, but on an
angle so as he was not in my view but i was in his. he was
trying to seem interested in what his friend was saying but
he wasnt doing it well, he was staring at me, at my hair,
and my hands, and my eyes.

i had to get out of there! i thought i would break apart
from the moment, the pure moments being held - so my sister
and i headed for the car, i could barely walk yet i walked
with ease, with the same grace i had always had, the grace
you are gifted with at birth, that forms through years of
dancing, and thinking, being alive... passionate grace?


he had the same grace. he had the same hands as me. the same
smile in his eyes, the same pain in his silences.

i even remember what he was wearing, and what i was wearing.
it was summer, August, and i wore a black tank top with a
skirt with layers of sheer cloth, a beautiful rainbow of

a few weeks later i found out where he was working, and went
to have coffee there he was a cook. i walked in later in
the night with a friend and he was in the staff's lounge on
his break - you should have seen his face when he saw me -
he looked like he thought i wasnt real, a mirage, perhaps?!
shock, then the embarassed smile to quickly cover the shock
and joy.

so my friend and i sat and had coffee. we talked about this
and that but i wasnt really there. i was still standing,
holding his gaze, tracing his frame with the memory those
few moments held. his beautiful hands. beautiful mouth.
beautiful him.

about 20 minutes later the manager approached us (me) and
asked if i would come back after closing to meet him (the guy, the one) -
he said he was too shy to come and ask me himself, and had even
written me a note (poetry) but was also too shy to present it.
(shh, dont tell him i told you about the note, he said)

and i said, sure, smiling.

so i went back there later on, my heart felt freed, felt
alive. i was alive. i felt the fire of possiblilties
burning through me.

when i saw him in the parking lot by his car, again, he
looked surprised (he later told me he didnt think i would
actually come - but how could i not? i couldnt not)

i went over to him with an unsure voice about to say


but we just stood there, staring at one another.

then i got into his car and we were driving. we went to his
house so he could shower (he had just gotten off work) but
he never showered, and we didnt sleep for 48 hours after.

we talked forever, about everything there is to say. we
traced each others faces, i let him hold my hands in his,
watched him look up at me with those sad eyes and saw his
voice - the voice we cannot bring out of ourselves through
speech, the one that comes out only through our silences, our movements, our eyes.

and i saw his.

but in the end, it just couldnt be, and i left him, and he left me.
it was meant, i believe, but not at that time, not at that point in our lives.
our love was too fierce, it burned, it swallowed us.
our attraction just as fierce. but our pain was too big. his pain, and mine.

we both needed to become alive without the other. we were not ready for one another;

we were not ready for that kind of love.
do you know what i mean?

i will love him through every moment of my life,
with the purity of spirit and hope.

so, now you tell me. what has been the most amazing moment(s), the most beautiful time of your life?

your best moment.

[Edited by blue on 04-25-2001 at 03:53 AM]
post #2 of 44
They express the deepest emotions from the depths of your soul and I must be honest, your words echoed in my own mind as I have felt this as well...I find reading your words very inspiring!

This story I have touched on before, but not the birthing moment of what I call love. So, in regards to it, I will tell you mine:

In late 1990 I quit a job that I was working because I was miserable doing it and the 'job' didn't care much for me either, so management wasn't disappointed by my departure. But, I was left with the daunting task of being able to afford my overhead. I went to a theatre that I used to work at as a projectionist just a few years previous and the manager was a friend. Well, I went in and lo and behold, she needed a 2nd assistant manager and hired me right there on the spot.

As I was standing in the lobby waiting for her, I happened to turn towards the concession stand to look at the two young concession girls that were presently working, cleaning up in between shows (It was slow, so not many customers were about). One of these girls was Kathy. I saw her from behind and was immediately drawn because of her dark brunette hair that was fairly long. Then she turned towards me and, for the first time, our eyes met.

It was as if everything inside of me had suddenly been encompassed by a shooting star that ignited my heart and soul with an electrical charge so strong that, just for a moment, I couldn't breathe. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly in order to regain some sembalence of control. I was sure she could see my face flush, but I'm sure that was just my imagination.

Kathy has THE most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, Not since have I looked into a persons eyes and so immediately known their very soul, as they say the eyes are the mirror to. Kathy is 1/4 Naitave American Indian and her eyes revealed an innocent, open, friendly and warm and inviting soul. I felt that she could see through my outter being and was peering directly into the deepest recesses of my own soul, seeing all my hopes, fears and dreams. It was as if we both KNEW, without any hesitation, that we were IT for each other. In this moment, which I percieved to be hours, when, in reality, was but a few seconds, within our first meeting of the eyes we spoke many words to one another, without a word having yet been uttered (much like you stated).

Then she smiled at me. And to this very day (I can recall as if it were yesterday) I remember seeing in her devestatingly captivating smile a familiararity, in as if we had known each other for an eternity, since before the world was born in a flash of light. I am NOT kidding when I say this, but I was SO sure of this that I knew fate had brought us together.

Time itself seemed to cease and desist, as if the clock had stopped and the world around us had become mobilized and she and I were the only two people in concious exsistence. I smiled back and she, shyly, looked away and continued sweeping.

Now, understand, I am a very friendly and easy going guy who can talk to just about anyone, except when it comes to ladies that I am attracted to. But, for some reason, every fiber in my being was firing correctly and my own shyness fell away. I sensed a comfortability and, with that, I stepped up to the concession stand.

As I moved closer I felt as if I were watching myself in the third person, as if I were having an out-of-body experience, but still able to control every aspect of myself. Everything just clicked so right. Then, time began to move normally around us again and I said "Hello" to her.

She giggled and said "Hi" back and in her bashfulness my heart swelled as if it had been consumed by all the love that every single being in the world had felt and I, immediately, loved her.

I introduced myself, "I'm Chuck" and she giggled again and said "I'm Kathy", but the names were just a formality, for in that first look we had known one another so completely that the words spoken now mattered not.

Three months later, on memorial day of 91', we went on our first date. In this interim time I was her boss, which made it somewhat difficult, until we both decided that it did not matter.

We were each others first everything, from love to living together and in the 3 years that we were together we shared what I look back on as the most exhilirating times of my life. Horseback riding thru the surf on the beach, making love ALL day long, walks in the fading glow of a beautiful sunset. We were definantly it for each other. We bonded deeply and quickly and though the relationship ended in catastrophe and we both have moved on with our lives (she JUST seperated, for the 4th time, from her husband whom she shares a child with) she still calls me at least once or twice a week from SC where she lives and we immediately are able to begin talking, laughing and sharing thoughts as if not a day or distance seperated us. But, we both know that fate decided our timing for each other was not right and that we just weren't meant to continue past that 3 yr mark together. But, we still are friends and we both, frequently, talk of those happier days and how we wish we could go and get those days back once again.

But, I was fortuante to have had such an incredibly intense and passionate meeting of the mind and soul with her and, even through the bad, I still remember the good in our relationship the most.

And, this is the way I will always remember Kathy, my first love.
post #3 of 44
Blue and MeowMan; You both, truly, blow me away. I will have to wait to respond. I must go back and re-read your poignant posts (no sappy asimilation intended) Both of you express feelings so excellently. Chuck, I think you have found a co-writer for your next screen play. . . . . .The two of you would be a great teaming of literary talent. Thank you for sharing these memories. Can I tell my friends that I knew you before the Oscar? ? ? ? ? ?
post #4 of 44
Blue... I have to know have you ever seen him again? Do you think your lives and souls will cross one anothers path again? What a story Meowman was right you have such a graceful and inspiring way with your words.

Thank you~
post #5 of 44
Thank you for sharing your beautiful story with us. And thank you, Meow Man, for your love story as well.

post #6 of 44
Thread Starter 


thank you for your words, and for sharing your story in
return... you write with a sense of fragility and ease,
grace, knowing and humility; you write beautifully.

our stories are much alike, or rather our perceptions of those first moments
where we lost our breath and knew we were


those moments without breath, knowing we didnt need air, for
we found sustenance in the eyes of the one that captured our
soul with theirs.

the breaking of all things which hold us, falling down
around us, to give way to a different perspective; love.

to see through eyes which have held fire, is to see the
world for what we cannot understand, and what we need not

threeleggedkat & Mr.Cat

thank you both for you endearing, generous words, please
share your best moments here with us in return -

to all who enter and read this thread, i hereby commit you
to posting your best moments! come share your stories, share
the moments which changed you, and held you, which you
remember in silence, in every day.

post #7 of 44
Blue & Chuck....you both have such a beautiful way with words!!!!!! Thanks for those great stories!!!!
I guess I can't think of one particular moment that was the best in my life...(sad, huh....LOL)

I have had alot of good moments though.
post #8 of 44
I regret that I cannot bear my soul! It would only be fair to do so, except for a recent experience here: I laid myself bare on another thread, yet everybody just blew it off with not a single reply. That hurt, very much.

So, for the time being, I'll not be repeating such an exercise. It's not that I'd expect blame, praise or sympathy! But having described an extremely traumatic time in my life — and having come away bereft of any response whatsoever — I cannot now bring myself to reveal more.

post #9 of 44
Thread Starter 


where is this thread? how did i miss it? i certainly hope
i didnt read it and not respond, though if it was a bad day
for me, that might have happened...

your life experiences, your pain, sorrow, joy, happiness -
would be considered a gift to me to read, and i apologize
for missing your thread, or not responding

i certainly would not read through something revealing and
emotional that you have written without feeling emotions,
caring; there are some days, for me, when i choose not to
read those stories, or not to respond to them because my
heart is too heavy... my soul weighted by my own life.

but i always care.

anything you choose to reveal here; i will read it, and take
it all in, and feel blessed by your choice to share.
post #10 of 44
Thank you, for your lovely response to my somewhat terse message. I know, just from our brief time together here, that you would never ignore someone's pain. I'm sure, also, that nobody passed over my little plea for understanding on purpose. It's just one of those things!

What was involved was the public lynching and private destruction of someone who had been a friend. Both personally and professionally, the pain was unbearable to me! Perhaps you've witnessed a friend descend into the depths of depression and suicide ideation. It's not a pretty sight; and in many ways it's harder to take than one's own similar malady.

Of course, I attempted via my writing to stem the tide of politically-correct bigotry which swept all before it; but to no avail. Alas, I was marginalized by both friends and family as a result. "Guilt by association" came about on many levels. Most of the wounds have healed over, but the scars shall forever remain.

Perhaps I'll write about it, here on this thread, some day — but not today. Thank you for your concern!

post #11 of 44
Thread Starter 

i dont know how i missed your reply, i'm so sorry!

to answer your question... i dont know that we'll ever meet
again, i'd like to think one day we will, maybe i will be at
the library, or the beach, or the grocery store, and i will
look up and find his eyes holding mine, will i feel the
same way? i would. i will always.

i havent seen him in over 2 years? now, and i havent spoken
with him or corresponded either. though not a day passes
where i dont feel his presence in my heart and soul, as
surely as i feel my own breath, i feel his too.
post #12 of 44
I agree, where is this thread of yours. I have thoroughly enjoyed your posts, for in your words I can see a deep soul with lots of feeling and you express your heart well.

I would like to read that post of yours and I apologize for missing it. With my moniter working only partially at the moment, this is why I suspect that I missed it.

Please, don't close yourself off. I, for one, would be honored to read your inner thoughts and share my own in return.

What is the title of the post?????
post #13 of 44
When I looked into his eyes for the first time.
I saw him the instant he saw me. I know he knew he was all I ever wanted to see, and I knew he felt the same upon first seeing me.

("Blinded by the light; shot down like an Ace in the middle of flight. . . .")

His eyes seared my soul,branded by heart, and melded our fates together.

Unlike your love, Blue, he and I were never physically apart for 545 days after that and have never been spiritually seperated. (though physically we were abrumptly and forever torn apart)
I still see those eyes every nite in my dreams. For 26 yrs. I thought that if I could get deep enough into a bottle (any bottle) the eyes would not follow me; only to realize that they were always there waiting in the dregs at the very bottom of each and every bottle. . . . .There were so many bottles! Still, the answer was never there. . . . .

I don't know exactly why, but 4+ yrs. ago I decided to let the memories/pain go. I gave it up to a Higher Power before it consumed me. That was the only way I had not tried; and in return, I received peace.

I can still see the eyes in my dreams, if I want to, but I no longer have to.

True love is meant to be held onto, but not meant to hold you back from new love's experiences. Unfortunately, it took me 30 yrs. to learn this. . . . . . . .

I still list the first time I looked into Craig's eyes as the best moment in my life so far,(keywords here: "so far").

Thank you, Blue, MeowMan, Mr. Cat, Catarina77777, and everyone here, for helping me expess these feelings.

Threeleggedkat aka Darlene
post #14 of 44
The post in question is titled, "I'm Donning My Helmet and Flak Jacket." It's on page 12 of the "Getting to Know Each Other, Part 2" thread. (I may have gotten that thread's title slightly wrong!)

In any event, I don't want to make a melodrama out of my hurt feelings. But, I know you'll be kind! Between the lines of that post is immense pain, which I avoided describing as it's "just one of those things."

post #15 of 44
Darlene, I'm proud of you for finally dumping the bottle. I had a illegal-drug habit for ten years, from 1975-1986; and via that behaviour I managed to ruin my life and hurt loved ones in the bargain.

I went "cold turkey" in 1986 and haven't been back, nor will I visit that realm ever again. My chief regret is having caused my mother great pain, which I lament every day; and as she passed away some years ago I'll never be able to make up for my many mistakes.

Alas, life goes on! There's little or nothing to be done about the past. "Pack all your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile!" Through the tears, if need be.

post #16 of 44
Well, it looks like me, Mr. Cat and Darlene have alot in common. My Higher Power has been with me for over 8 years now. I hit rock bottom after my daughter was diagnosed with brain cancer. I was unemployed, had no prospects of finding a job, suffered from depression and was looking out from the bottom of a bottle with thoughts of suicide. I also sought as much and as many drugs both legal and illegal that I could find. Fortunately I had enough common sense to call the hotline. I got help for my depression and things went uphill from then on. Later on I learned that alcoholism is hereditary. My dad died from liver damage due to drinking 24/7 for years.

The person I hurt the most was my daughter Amy. Rather than spending time with her on the weekends, I preferred spending it in a bar. I know that hindsight has 20/20 vision and I can't undo what's been done. I can only move on. I have a wonderful relationship with her now. We are closer than ever. I guess the fact that I almost lost her opened my eyes.

I am proud on how far I have come. When you hit bottom, the only direction you can go is up. And it's also nice to have friends that are willing to listen.

Anyway, on that note, I'll sign off. It's a pleasure knowing you guys and as the old saying goes, "You've Come A Long Way Baby!!"
post #17 of 44
Donna, and everyone else....I too have had a problem with turning to alcohol to numb the pain in my life...I am trying not to drink very often now...but I still do every once in awhile.

And Darlene....your post was so deeply touching.

Mr. Cat.... I want to sincerely apologize for your post in the other thread not being responded to. None of us here would purposely avoid your pain, ever. I think most of the reason it was overlooked is because of where you posted it. Had you started a new thread, or replied to a thread in which feelings were being discussed, I'm sure you would have had many responses, it's just that that thread is not a real serious one, and I know that sometimes, when I haven't been online for a few days, and have many new posts in the lounge to read, I sometimes skim over some of the posts in " Getting to know you better" till I get to the last question. I try to always read every post, really I do...but when I have 200 and some e-mail notifications, from this site...I do my best. I am SO sorry you felt hurt, and ignored....it hurts me that you felt that way, and I am glad you said something about it...we all care very much about you, don't ever think we don't, please!
I hope you can share with us again!
post #18 of 44
Thank you, very much, for your understanding! No, I cannot imagine you overlooking a "serious" post; and I understand how a constant stream of electronic-mail messages can result in a certain amount of pick-and-choose. I recently stopped receiving messages from a wonderful Yahoo! club, Animal Psychology, because I couldn't keep up with all the posts!

The reason that particular post ended up where it did was because it was in answer to a question, but I'll be darned if I can remember exactly what the question was. (I'm too lazy to go look just now.) In any event, I slipped that post in there amongst less-intense posts; and there's no reason anybody should have realized I was revealing a part of my life which causes pain even to this day. (I made the post as straightforward and "professional" as possible, trying to avoid the emotions I was feeling.)

Anyway, thanks again! I greatly appreciate the moral support you and so many others here are giving me every day. Bless you, one and all!

post #19 of 44
Way to go, kicking the bottle! My addiction was to the illegal stuff, but no matter what the law says it's all a crutch and a harmful one at that. Congratulations to you! I'm very happy to know you've mended fences with your daughter.

post #20 of 44
Due to my stand on the above-mentioned matter I lost both friends and sanity, as I was castigated in the corporate media for having dared go against the accepted disinformation campaign. Of course, I quit the profession of journalism —

I located your post and read it and, working in the film/video/television environment myself, I understand COMPLETELY your point as to how even news reporting has become a ratings rush as to 'play' down or up certain aspects of a story as to warrant a higher reader/viewership. It's just simply disgusting.

Even the news is corrupted these days and only naivity allows people to watch and read the news and believe it without contradiction.

I have witnessed many such situations, as I have news cameramen/producers and reporters that are friends and they all succumb to the powers that be, because they have to put food on the table.

It is just more definition as to the 'political' problems of the US and it is WRONG.

It sounds, from your post, that you were fighting an uphill battle and it is unfortunate that you were forced into a corner. I hope that you have found something more fulfilling to do in the present???

What I copied and pasted of your post above is what suprised me the most in it, in that your 'friends' alienated you. I feel for you because it does indicate those who are real friends and those that aren't.

Just out of curiosity, what are you doing presently? I ask because I seriously am interested. I didn't realize that you worked in 'the' field, but I guess I should have based on your incredible abilities at writing. Which leads me to another question: What tpye of news have/do you do?
post #21 of 44
Thank you, for both reading and appreciating that post of mine. Regarding the segment you quoted, let me say this: Yes, I lost the affection of people whom I'd considered friends. They were unable to fathom why I would make a maximum effort to "defend" someone the corporate mainstream media of communication deemed sub-human. Also, they feared contamination by their association with me: The power of the press is such that anyone who publicly goes against its grain incurs societal wrath — or should, in their opinion.

However, a few friends stood by me even as I continued to persevere under the unrelenting assault which ensued during that time. Sadly, one of the people who abandoned me (and I didn't even know it until later) was my brother. When we finally discussed the matter, he said: "I've got a family and a job; and people in the office are talking. 'Isn't that your brother in Oregon who's associated with that Tonya Harding character?' I decided to disown you and never speak to you again."

Big stuff, eh? The power of the press. Fortunately, we've completely reconciled (my brother and myself). Mind, middle-class people such as my brother and his family are the main targets of media advertisers — and hence of media news departments; thus it's harder for them (apparently) to read between the lines or maintain a circumspect attitude when a working-class person (Tonya) is being vilified. Peer pressure, real or perceived, grips the middle class tighter than it does either the upper or working class.

As to my career in journalism: I began by writing as a free lance for local newspapers in 1970, while taking the journalism curriculum at Portland Community College. I was sports editor for that school's weekly newspaper, The Bridge. For my final two years of tertiary education I attended the University of Oregon School of Journalism, graduating in 1973. While there, I was a special correspondent for that school's daily newspaper, The Oregon Daily Emerald.

During my junior year, I was selected for a summer internship at KOIN-TV News in Portland (the internship was a state-wide competition amongst all system of higher education schools). During my senior year, I worked at KOIN on weekends as a producer and journeyman reporter — the good old days of the American Federation of Radio and Television Artists. I went full time upon graduation from university. After withstanding the fallout from an upper-and-middle management change, I finally became tired of the "new order" (which seemed more interested in show business than journalism) and quit. I then got a job at KEZI-TV News in Eugene (Oregon) as producer, reporter and anchor. I missed the level of professionalism in Portland, however; so I took an offer to work at KOIN-AM and FM News, with my "old" employer!

I'd no sooner begun working there, when the National Organization for Women made KOIN a target. Their agent, Jane Hoyt, got a job on the radio side and angled for the news department. She didn't work out and returned to the announcing (disk jockey) side. N.O.W. then revealed itself and began to picket the station. Guess who became the sacrificial lamb? (Answer: me. "We've got to cut the budget; and it's a union shop; and you were the last person hired. . . ." Jane had my job two days later, sufficient budget having been found in 48 hours' time.) Sadly, several years later, Jane committed suicide — abandoned and forgotten by N.O.W., which had accomplished its Beltway-oriented goal. We were, both of us, victims of political correctness.

Upon being laid off by KOIN I took a job as news editor at The Stayton Mail, a small-town weekly newspaper. After several months, I was offered a job as chief writer for GrassRoots — a monthly magazine based in Salem, the state capitol. Not long afterward, we quit getting paid! So, I decided to take leave of journalism for the time being (this was in 1977) and took various and sundry odd jobs.

In the early 1980s, I decided to return to the fold. I became news director at KGAL-AM News in Albany, Oregon. I did, however, grow to hate the lack of professionalism and the low pay. So I quit, ending up as animal caretaker at a veterinary hospital in the Portland metropolitan area. Meanwhile, I kept writing: for the newsletter published by the Washington Park Zoo (now called the Oregon Zoo), for the newsletter published by the Bonneville Power Administration, et cetera.

When the international media-circus came to town in 1994, I was commissioned as a free lance to write articles for the bi-weekly alternative newspaper PDXS. In December of that year, I made the decision to stop doing journalism altogether.

As to why some people decided I wasn't good company anymore: During the media circus, I was interviewed by practically everybody from the C.B.S. Radio Network to The New York Times to Crossfire on C.N.N.; and I made no bones about the fact that Tonya was being railroaded, my conclusion based upon a total lack of incriminating "hard" evidence as well as the character of her ex-husband and his friends. Everything she was accused of was based upon conjecture, hearsay and third-hand gossip. Naturally, the big-shot media downplayed the origins of the "evidence" and played up the front-office-approved circulation-and-ratings spin.

The aftermath included my hospitalization for major depression and suicide ideation — the very same maladies which afflicted Tonya during that time (and which in her case continue to this day).

post #22 of 44
That is so horrible that even your own brother alienated you just for having a different opinion, and standing up for it. I am glad you have reconciled though.

As for your "friends" who deserted you during that time...they could not have been real friends. I am only now, after almost 36 years of life, finding out what "real" friendship is....and just because someone is really close to you, doesn't make them a "real" friend...the true test is when they stay by you during the really rough times, and understand the changes in you.

You have alot of "real" friends here.
post #23 of 44
Also....I just went back and reread your last post, after I posted the one above...and it suddenly dawned on me who you were talking about....( I can be a bit slow....forgive me)
You are talking about the skater, that was accused of hurting Nancy Kerrigan back in 94 or 95, right?
I always did wonder what the REAL story was behind that...and I also found it exremely intriguing. If Tanya was unjustly accussed then it is no wonder she is having problems with depression, even to this day, as the media was very cruel to her.
post #24 of 44
Thank you, for replying to my posts regarding the above-mentioned matter! When I first came to the inter-net, I was saddened upon discovering the extent of successful brainwashing on this issue — carried out by corporate mainstream media of communication. I'd begun to "get over" that whole episode, but the inter-net dragged it all out for me to see once more.

Once, on another message board, this matter arose in discussion. It was the approved "party line," of course: "Tonya Harding the white-trash no-good bitch," et cetera. I made the mistake of pointing out a few of the major flaws in the hate campaign directed against her; but rather than receiving appreciative remarks in return, I myself became the target of a most hateful attack by board members.

But, hope springing eternal and all that, I felt the people here would be above such a vendetta. So, when the question "What are you proudest of?" was put, I offered a limited description of that traumatic period in my life. I'll always be proud of having stood against such a filthy propaganda machine as was brought to bear in 1994. It's especially good to know you've managed to keep your circumspection intact!

post #25 of 44
I just saw the E true hollywood story on Tonya probably, 2 months ago. I found it fasinating. I don't know if you've seen it or not, but I think it did a good job of not portraying her as a villian. It didn't skew one way or the other. It was basically just the facts of what was known, plus her history and how she got into skating. She had a very hard life growing up, and I remember feeling bad about the abusive relationship she found herself in.

I remember when it all happened, and thinking about how Nancy Kerrigan was portrayed as a victimized little princess, and how that was probably just as off as portraying Tonya as the villian. We love a good fairy tale, and this story had all the elements. someone had to be the heroine and someone had to be the villian. It was a tragic iccident.

do you still talk to Tonya? I would be very curious how she is.
post #26 of 44
Air Princess; I too, saw that E special. Thanks for posting this response. At the time of the incident I felt like Tonya was being railroaded and didn't know a whole lot about her or her bad relationships or abusive home, etc. I do remember seeing her skate from a very young age and always felt she was very talented. I read something lately where she is working with training young skaters, but maybe Mr. Cat can tell us more about how she is doing. I think it must have been hell for her the way the press hounded her for years after the incident. I remember seeing something where she was just trying to get her Jeep out of her driveway and the press were pushing her and knocked her keys out of her hand as she tried to open the car door and then they wrote somethings about her "hair-triggered temper" when she reacted to this hassell no differently than anyone of us would have
post #27 of 44
I've not spoken with Tonya since May, 1994. Although we'd developed a friendly relationship in the few years prior to that time — mine being rather an avuncular role — the immediacy and intensity of the media circus in January 1994 plunged Tonya into a void of depression, thus clouding her judgment. (Perhaps some of us know how that works!)

An "asshole magnet" from an early age, Tonya had found a new looser to cling to in the person of one Douglas Lemon. He was, like her ex-husband, adept at the art of control: He knew what buttons to push to make her "behave," rage being one tactic traditionally employed by such confidence men.

Whilst contemplating what to do now that the sky had fallen on her, Tonya was "helped" by Lemon and his mother Linda Cloud (who taught him all he knew about control): First, abandon the career of figure skating altogether; second, abandon any and all previous relationships — no matter what they were based upon (agape, filial, erotic); third, cling only to Lemon and look upon skeptics of that relationship as enemies.

They were never totally successful in getting Tonya to eschew figure skating. That discipline was — and will always be — her first love. But regarding relationships, they were quite successful. Immediately, I was "out of the loop." My patience lasted a couple of years (silly me), but finally gave out. Mind, I knew full well the modus operandi at work: Isolate Tonya and get all that money she must be pulling in.

As it turned out, Tonya ended up with little or nothing in the way of money. It all went to pay attorney's fees and the huge fines levied against her by the "justice" system. When it finally became apparent to Lemon and Company that the well was dry, they gave up and moved on. Immediately, Tonya managed to find yet another looser. (Perhaps some of us know young women who have a penchant for this behavior.)

Major depression, frequent suicide ideation, inherited alcoholism, a childhood replete with sexual abuse and the resultant lack of self esteem all combined to doom Tonya to oblivion. All those nice, decent middle-class people who believe everything told them by the corporate media found a readily-available punching bag in Tonya. It was (and is) politically correct to dehumanize her: She hasn't a university degree; she's from the working class; she hasn't deep pockets; she has white skin, blue eyes and blond hair; she has no political power-base . . . the list goes on and on.

I miss Tonya, but as she's never grasped the concept of fence-mending I've concluded our once-friendly relationship is merely a chapter in my personal history. Thanks for listening and good afternoon!

post #28 of 44
Joe; Thank you for responding. What a shame Tonya doesn't realize what she lost when she severed ties with you. I have always been thankful that I have not needed a man to reaffirm who or what I am. Most of the trouble with my personal relationships has been that I am too strong a personality and I do not tolerate dishonesty or control freaks.
post #29 of 44
I feel bad that Tonya isn't able to hold onto the right relationships while weeding out the bad. A very, very sad story. Even sadder than the one that the public knows. Am I crazy for suggesting this, but what would happen if you contacted her out of the blue? this may not be something you have any interest in doing, but I find time helps, and if it was an important relationship to you then, then maybe something is salvagable. just a thought.
post #30 of 44
I gotta tell ya! I'm just not interested in contacting Tonya anymore. She did her best to burn all bridges; and I'm no longer in a position to be of any help to her. Back in "those days," I was instrumental in her carrying on with her career: She'd wanted to quit, since the stultifying politics of figure skating has swung away from her "athletic" style and toward the "swanning about" fur-coat-crowd Yamaguchi style. Money talks. I was one person in a small group of professional people who felt she hadn't been given an even break, especially in her home town (Portland had become the political-correctness capitol of the Northwest by then).

Our relationship was strictly one of respect for each other's talents. Mind, we liked one another as well; but she's 26 years younger than me! Of course, being a male personage and all, I couldn't help but feel a certain attraction to her. Hey, I'm only human! But I maintained a respectful distance, so that nothing improper could be construed.

Anyway, Tonya was a real kick in the ass and I'm glad I knew her. Until the Lemon/Cloud one-two punch set in, she helped me with groceries and moral support when I was first homeless. I'm afraid, however, that whereas I'm doing just fine her future appears bleak — even though, in practice, she can still land that triple Axel. (She was doing quad Axels in practice back during the early 1990s — before any guys, even.)

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