We Can't Reach You, Hartford
An investigative history of the Hartford Circus Fire of July 6th, 1944. Nominated for a Fringe First at the 2006 Edinburgh Fringe Festival.
In the twilight of his life, famed photographer Matthew Brady must choose between the life he has built and the legacy he wants to leave behind.
Tone Clusters
Renowned prose author Joyce Carol Oates explores honesty, perspective, and denial through one couple's harrowing attempt to save the person they love
Friday, December 21, 2007
Return of the Dramaturgical Detritus
Instead of a list, I would like to tell you a story about Charles Lindbergh's grandfather. Actually, I would like to tell you two:

Lindbergh's paternal grandfather, Ola Mansson, was a 19th century Swedish politician. In 1858, it came to light that Mansson had used his appointment in the Riksdag (the Swedish parliament) to secure a position as an officer in the State Bank of Sweden and was quite possibly embezzling money from the Swedish government. An investigation was ordered, and the case went to Sweden's Supreme Court. Things weren't looking good for Mansson at this point and so, when he was presented on the stand with a fairly damning document of his wrong-doing, he grabbed it from the lawyer, tore it up, and wiped his ass with one of the pieces of paper. In the middle of the Swedish Supreme Court.

Unsurprisingly, Mansson immigrated to America soon thereafter.

After coming to America, Mansson and his wife changed their surname to Lindbergh and soon settled in Melrose, Minnesota, where they lived the lives of American pioneers. On August 2, 1861, while milling wood for his house, Mansson/Lindbergh got too close to the exposed saw. The machinery caught his cloths and tugged him into the spinning blade. The saw took off part of his left arm, tore his back open, and then hurled him across the mill. The gash was apparently so deep that his resucers claimed they could see his lung and his still beating heart. Somehow, he survived.

Wait, it gets better.

Medicine being what it was at the time, in the end, they had no choice but to amputate Mansson/Lindbergh's left arm at the shoulder. But once Lindbergh was able to get out of bed, he asked the doctor for the arm. Holding the lifeless fingers of his left arm, Lindbergh was alleged to have given the following eulogy:

"Gootbye, mine dear hand. You have been a goot frent to me for fifty years. You haf always been goot and true to me, but you can't be viv me anymore."

And then he buried the arm in his garden.

Happy Friday!
posted by stephen @ 2:57 PM  
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