The Dead Do Speak

We Need to Listen More

Portuguese cemetery, children's section,
New Bedford, Mass.

I had a dream the other night. I originally thought I was on an archeological dig, somewhere in southern Europe or possibly the Middle East. I was standing in a room that was well-lit - it lacked a roof - and staring at the jumble of dirt and detritus that covered the floor.

There was a linear lump on the floor, about three feet long and covered by dirt and dust. I brushed away some of the covering material and started to reveal a piece of stone, possibly granite, maybe eight inches in width. There was writing on the stone. I brushed further and cleared enough to see that the letters, incised in the stone and possibly four inches tall, said PhillyCarShare.

I then realized that I was standing in the ruins of Philadelphia, some centuries or perhaps millennia in the future. It was very hot and dry. I had thought that the global warming prognosis for Philadelphia was hot and rainy and, of course, underwater. But my sleeping imagination had other ideas.

This dream was obviously prompted by a few paragraphs in Bernard Knox's introduction to Robert Fagles' translation of the Aeneid, which in turn echo Shelley's "Ozymandias." (To see the Knox anecdote, click here.) 

PhillyCarShare was the first car-share organization in Philadelphia. It was organized by members of the community. The big corporate money was not, at that time, interested in car share. After PhillyCarShare proved the concept, they moved in and, in the process, engulfed and devoured PhillyCarShare.

One of the founders of PhillyCarShare was Tanya Seaman, a well-known community activist in Philadelphia. She left us a few years ago. I remember her fondly and, as this dream indicates, I'm probably thinking about her even when I'm not aware that I'm thinking about her. 

Waverly at 19th. Still in service. Still useful, for both
the present and a sense of the past.

See also For Athena, What I've Learned.