The Bad Birthday Club

I wrote a story once called “The BBC” or The Bad Birthday Club. It grew out of a conversation I had with a friend after 9-11. 9-11 is her birthday and she was saying how she saw a friend a couple days after and mentioned this fact and he shook his head and said, Oklahoma Bombing. Thus a story was born in which each character is identified by the badness on their birthday. It’s a bit more complicated than that, of course, but the main gist is that the story is a commentary on how bad days always happen and always will. It ends with a little girl blowing out candles on her birthday cake – a harbinger of what might happen on her day as well. Yeah. Good times. (ETA: This story was published in the literary journal Fourteen Hills, Spring/Summer 2002.)

When I heard the news from London yesterday, I immediately thought of the date and all those people who now have a bad birthday.

Our phone started ringing around 7:30. It was G’s job – he went into crises mode trying to identify all of the people in the US that had traveled to London. Not an easy task, to say the least. Apparently one of the unexploded bombs was found under his company’s office in London. That’s what he said – I didn’t triple check it. I think he’s near the Liverpool stop. The day was so stressful for him he came home sick (and G never gets sick – or if he does – he stoically pushes through). He climbed into bed and I did my best Florence Nightingale impersonation all the while feeling my own craziness.

Let me tell you something world – you’re not making my decisions any easier! Do you hear me? Stop this nonsense NOW.

I wasn’t going to post again until FBS was done. Well, it’s done, but the weather here today mimics the tears of England and I don’t feel like taking pictures with a gray background. Hopefully the sun with be back out tomorrow and I’ll be in a brighter mood as well. In the meantime, my thoughts are with all those people terrorized yet again.

Comments

  1. It was such a roller coaster ride yesteray for all of us but what a nightmare for G. My heart goes out to anyone who has to deal personally with this terror.
    We can wait for FBS and a sunny day. It will brighten up our spirits to see that glorious red shawl.
    I had to take out the needles and go back a full repeat last night. You were in my thoughts;-) I’m now on track and will have it finished this weekend.
    Hugs to you and G.

  2. myopically, I didn’t think of others sharing my husband’s 9/11 birthday. Did you publish your story?

  3. Poor G – what an awful thing. So scary and sad and out of our control. Thanks for posting.

  4. The Bad Birthday Club — my cousin’s son was born on September 13, 2001 and I remember during those awful days what a relief it was that he wouldn’t have such a terrible birthday.
    I hope you and George are feeling better soon!

  5. I know two couples whose wedding anniversary is 9/11, forever ruined as a happy day. And yesterday was Chappy’s birthday (though, really, he was able to shrug this off) . . . I really hope my birthday never becomes a household “word”

  6. Sounds like a great story! I will have to check it out :). My neice’s b-day is on 9-11. I will never forget when I talked to her on the phone that day, in 2001, when she turned 4, and just talked to me about her birthday, what kind of cake she ate, what presents she got. She was so happy. Totally innocent and non knowing what had happened that sad day.
    Looking forward to seeing your finished FBS. Hope G is feeling a bit better.

  7. I have a friend who got married on 9/11 last year, partly as a way of saying “this cannot be a bad day for all time…some good has to come out of it”. I really admired her for that decision. (and secretly wondered if it was also because they could do it for cheaper on that day).

  8. I can understand the aura of sadness that attaches to dates of tragic events like September 11. However, I rather like the thought that while here is an example of the lowness humanity can reach yet this birth, this union of two loving lives is an example of the promise humanity can offer.

  9. That’s me. Bad Birthday. July 7.