Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Thank You, Sharon



Sharon Nettles


One of the reasons I took up blogging was as an outlet for my frustration. Some of it was a way of letting off steam from the constant pressures that life placed on me. I chose the title (Hypocrisy) for a reason, the more I lived the more hypocritical people seemed to become. To say that there are a lot of things in life that frustrate me would be an understatement. But there were also other reasons. It was difficult to find like-minded individuals that I could 'communicate' with. Communicate in a way that I could exchange and bounce ideas off of others. In a Socratic way, where questions were asked and positions were challenged in an effort to learn from the other person.

I first came across this form of communication when I was in college. I attended Oregon State University in the late 1970s. A time that seems light years from where I find myself today. My memories of Oregon State are ones of youth, wet winters, lush springs, green summers and articulate friends who were hungry for knowledge and experience. In many ways it was the best time of my life although I didn't realize it back then.

I was fortunate enough to have a close knit bunch of friends that I hung out with for almost 5 years at Oregon State. We usually always had a large rented house, with old beatup furniture, no heat, a small black & white television that was seldom watched, and a lot of books laying around. We partyed a lot, young people often do, but we also talked. We talked a lot about politics and the world view. About ecology, anthropology and other cultures. It was the time of the "Carter Malaise" and the "Reagan Doctrine". The cold war still raged and back then it was the Soviets that were still in Afghanistan.

One winters night, a group of us were hanging out, drinking and playing music. Eventually my friends Arthur Dingle and Dave Pakula left and it was just me and Sharon sitting there drinking beer at 10pm. Sharon was Arthur's on-again/off-again girlfriend and I knew her pretty well. She was smart but had a troubled past. She had come from a broken home (her dentist father had run off with his dental hygienist) and left her and her mother high and dry. There were scares from that breakup as well as some other trauma that had never really healed.

I don't recall what started the conversation, but Sharon and I ended up talking. As we sipped Henry Winehard's beer, 'The Clash' and 'Joni Mitchell' were playing on the stereo. We slumped in the old tattered sofa and chatted away. I don't recall what we talked about specifically, but I recall that we talked for hours. Through 10 or 12 beers and well into the wee hours of the morning. We discussed all those things that we were passionate about. We spoke of the things that troubled us and we railed against the injustice of the world and the things we all needed to do in order to right those wrongs.

The discussions became so passionate that we resorted to taking notes while the other one spoke so we wouldn't interrupt each other's train of thought. We would stop talking and jot down points and counterpoints while one of us got up for more chips from the kitchen or went to the bathroom. It was a marathon of mental sparing where both of our brains were emptied of knowledge and stress. I learned more about a woman's point of view that evening that I had in my prior 20 years of living.

By the time exhaustion finally started to take hold, it was close to 3am in the morning. I bundled up and walked back to my apartment in the midnight drizzle. As I shuffled home in the darkness my mind had never felt so alive. Someone had actually listened to me and vice versa. I had held my ground, modified my views and saw the world in a much different light . I loved it, and I wanted to do it again. I wanted to learn. Not from books or in a classroom. I wanted to learn from others. To understand what they felt and what they had been through. I wanted their different perspectives.

It was this sort of interaction that I sorely missed when I left college. After that golden time in academia, I found that the rest of the world just wanted to make money and collect toys. My ability to find those that I could relate to and learn from decreased over time. After many years of trying to find others that were looking for the same stimulus that I was, I started blogging. After searching through a lot of blogs that were less than interesting, I started to find the diamonds in the rough. Those that cried out in the Internet wilderness about their lives, their loves and their frustrations that make up this comedy called the human experience.

Several years after we had all scattered from Oregon State University, I got a letter from Arthur Dingle. He wrote that Sharon had committed suicide. I guess the demons that haunted her from her childhood finally caught up with her. I know that if she was still with us, she would be blogging......and she would have been a damn good blogger.

My wife recently asked me how will we know we made a difference in this life. How will we know we have done something that was good and noble. I told her that we just have to keep trying and that the smallest 'good' deed will make ripples like a peeble cast into an ocean....and the smallest ripples can become a mighty swell far beyond the horizon. Sharon cast a peeble back on that cold night in Oregon and it continues to ripple across the ocean of our lives...long after Sharon was gone.

13 comments:

  1. Oh, my heart goes out to you. So sad, so sad.

    It was very interesting this post. I can't help but think of my kids, how they are growing a mile a minute, frantic and hungry to soak up all they can.

    I think something does change when people grow up. But, there is an explosion of cerebral growth from the ages of 17-23 (or there about).

    But, some of us still want to learn and grow further. The difficulty is finding like minded folks, dealing with the day to day operations of relationships and carving out space for such things.

    This is why blogs are so nice, all packaged and absent of the static that can get in the way of learning from each other. It is almost pure mind work.

    That being said, I can't help but wonder at the exchange of ideas, if I will ever really learn anything new. The more I seek, the more I center, the more I find balance. The more chunks of any verbal ideas or indentifiable words fall off my person.

    Said another way, the more I grow, the less I talk, the more I feel, the more it all has meaning to me.

    huh. what does that mean?

    well, either way, beautiful post.

    and it is so sad, for her, for you.

    i can say though, i feel sad you didn't know about women for so long. really, it's not that complicated.

    THATS kind of a lie eh?

    ok ok enough !

    take care

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  2. Deep sigh.

    I was right there with you reliving all those warm, wonderful memories of the college years. I just loved the hanging out stuff. Playing cards. Listening to music. Talking about life. It was indeed a time of great connections.

    Just last week I had dinner with some non blogging friends and they were dubious about the process. My argument to them was that it's folks, like me and you, seeking out that feeling of connectedness that now seems so lacking. When neighbors knew each other. When friends stopped by just to sit together in the yard and have a chat.

    I'm so happy to hear you echo those thoughts.

    But I'm very sad for the loss of your friend. People touch us in unexpected ways. Never doubt that things we say or do can have profound impact.

    And please know that I enjoy hearing/reading what you have to say. Thanks for sharing.

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  3. I never went to university (college?). Just worked and worked. I had a friend at school who commited suiced when I was 39. Just after a school reuniion to which she was not invited. I had not seen her since school years and was really affected by her death. Brought a lot of questions to mind etc.

    I blog because it does bring me in contact, in an odd way, with people that are a bit left of field. Perhaps I feel an outsider here in my life. Disconnected. Not sure what the reason. It does not matter anyway. I blog, therefore I am? Is that how it goes?

    This post was very moving. Thanks

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  4. Linda: We are all a bit out in left field. There are two types of bloggers, some do it for ego, and others do it to be heard about something, even if it is trival. 95% of life is made up of trivial stuff. It is about time we all started examining it.

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  5. great post bruce. it is interesting to me the different reasons people start blogs. i started my after reading my grandfathers journal and wanted to leave someting of my self behind for others to read.

    keep writting.

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  6. I have had four friends commit suicide over my lifetime. Every single one of them was a musician. I'm still trying to figure that out.
    In about two weeks we'll have been mourning the first anniversary of our friend Scott's suicide.

    There are a lot of questions and no real answers...

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  7. What a sad and yet moving story. We all have our reasons for blogging, and I'm glad you found yours. I think Sharon's legacy definately lives on in your blog writings.

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  8. My reason for blogging is the same as yours. It was so easy for me in the beginning. I was very open with my feelings but now it feels like a million and one different eyes are watching and judging my every move that I'm finding it harder to be more open with my feelings. I really enjoyed this post.

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  9. that was very sad, and very beautifully written..

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  10. What a sad end to someone with such a bright mind. But if she did nothing other than make that kind of impression on one person, her life had much value.

    People like that are rare. They are jewels that shine in our memories no matter what happens later in our lives.

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  11. Oh, Bruce. I am so sorry to read this. How sad. But I am sure she was as impressed with your special night as you were. I mean, how often do you find someone to really LISTEN to what you have to say?

    I write my blog to share experiences; if someone reads it and likes it, all the better. But I don't worry about numbers. I enjoy reading other's blogs for the same reason; to share in their experiences too.

    Thanks for sharing this very special experience.

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  12. Bruce, I knew a girl in grade school and high school named Sharon Nettles. I believe your friend Sharon is the same girl. Although it has been many years, the picture you posted of her looks like Sharon.
    Perhaps you can tell me if your friend grew up in the Chicago area. If so, then your friend is the Sharon I knew as a kid. We went to Butler Elementary school in Oak Brook, Illinois from Kindergarten through 8th grade. We spent our High School years at Hinsdale Central high school in Hinsdale, Illinois. These towns are western suburbs of Chicago.
    While we were classmates for years, I did not know her as well as I would have liked. I remember that I had a crush on her in the First grade. She was always very smart. She was also the prettiest girl in class. I remember when we were around 11 years old we had to do "Square-dancing"
    during our "gym period." I remember being surprised that Sharon was a little bit nervous as we danced and held hands. I had always seen her as one of the kids in school who was very confident and sure of herself.
    Several years later, we were paired up during our
    8th grade graduation to walk down the aisle.
    In high school, I did not have much contact with Sharon. We did not have any classes together and our school was very large. What little I remember about Sharon during high school is that I noticed a little bit of a change in her, in terms of her attitude and how she was taking care of herself. She did not look happy. Perhaps this is the time in her life
    that her father walked out on her and her mother.
    Back around 1989 or 1990 (I think), my Mom called to tell me she had read Sharon's obituary in
    the local paper. She noticed it had been placed in the paper a couple months after Sharon's death.
    I think Sharon would have been close to the age of 30 years old at that time.
    Back then, as I looked back on my memories of her
    I wondered about the home life she had grown up with and how that may have affected her. With her death and no mention of how she died, I suspected
    she may have had a trouble life growing up.
    As is the case many times, you never know what a person (or a kid) may be dealing with at home.
    It makes me sad to think of the tough times she
    went through and the issues that continued to trouble her.
    It is nice to have read about her and know where she went to college and ultimately find out what happened. She was a good kid (as I knew her) and
    obviously a good friend to you Bruce.
    Thanks for sharing about her.

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  13. Brian: Interesting back story. I do seem to vaguely recall that Sharon was from the Chicago area, but that was almost 30 years ago and I don't recall clearly. By the time she passed away she would have been in her mid to late 20s. She was actually much prettier than the picture of her would indicate. This is the only picture of her that I have, but I don't really think it does her justice.

    Just curious, if you read this, how did you find this blog? Seems an awfully strange coincidence that you just stumbled upon it.

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