Last night Ric and I joined up with Zach and his BF John and then met up with Zach's friend Savannah and her daughter Ari. Together we were six of the estimated 50,000 people who turned out to honor the memory of the victims of the Pulse tragedy as well as express our enduring devotion to the unity of our our diverse and proud Orlando community.
The above pic was taken at last night's event by a former coworker I worked with at Symantec almost a decade ago. Since he's still a Facebook friend, I was able to see this on his page. We've not been in touch since 2008. If you had really great vision, you'd be able to see I'm among the crowd just to the right of center. No, I don't see me, I just know by the juxtaposition of the landmarks that I'm somewhere in there.
But it just goes to show you, how interconnected we are. A person I last had dealings with so long ago had a near brush with me in the present because we are one enduring community.
Having gone to this event right after a work night, I was a bit bleary eyed but maintained alertness throughout. Awesome hardly conveys the true scope of the vigil. The smattering of a late afternoon shower as the bulk of participants were starting to assemble at the park brought forth, beautifully and appropriately enough, a bright rainbow in the sky which seemed to be directly above the park.
We positioned ourselves after a bit of maneuvering right in front of the half-shell stage (albeit several yards back behind the fir tree-rimmed burm that rises to the rear of the actual performance area seating) as seen in the photo and via the loudspeakers we heard luminary after luminary espouse their affection for the friends and family of the victims as well (and perhaps pointedly so) as the greater Orlando LGBTQ community as a whole.
As dusk fell, our collective lights shined as thousands and thousands of candles formed what surely, from the perspective of the helicopters hovering above, looked like an enormous illuminated wreath encircling the entire lake with twinkling lights of love.
The victims names were read out, one by one and I saw and heard many cries of pain, but hopefully of gratitude as well for this awesome turnout in their honor.
I'm so glad I attended since I'd been so down in the dumps about so many things, but especially the cruelty of this crime and a reinforced attitude of despair for all mankind. But this event did much to nullify a lot of those feelings and got me feeling like this ol' world of ours might just have a chance after all. Like a candle flame in the slight wind of last night, it's hard to keep this light from being snuffed out, but I guess I'll give it a try.
The above pic was taken at last night's event by a former coworker I worked with at Symantec almost a decade ago. Since he's still a Facebook friend, I was able to see this on his page. We've not been in touch since 2008. If you had really great vision, you'd be able to see I'm among the crowd just to the right of center. No, I don't see me, I just know by the juxtaposition of the landmarks that I'm somewhere in there.
But it just goes to show you, how interconnected we are. A person I last had dealings with so long ago had a near brush with me in the present because we are one enduring community.
Having gone to this event right after a work night, I was a bit bleary eyed but maintained alertness throughout. Awesome hardly conveys the true scope of the vigil. The smattering of a late afternoon shower as the bulk of participants were starting to assemble at the park brought forth, beautifully and appropriately enough, a bright rainbow in the sky which seemed to be directly above the park.
We positioned ourselves after a bit of maneuvering right in front of the half-shell stage (albeit several yards back behind the fir tree-rimmed burm that rises to the rear of the actual performance area seating) as seen in the photo and via the loudspeakers we heard luminary after luminary espouse their affection for the friends and family of the victims as well (and perhaps pointedly so) as the greater Orlando LGBTQ community as a whole.
As dusk fell, our collective lights shined as thousands and thousands of candles formed what surely, from the perspective of the helicopters hovering above, looked like an enormous illuminated wreath encircling the entire lake with twinkling lights of love.
The victims names were read out, one by one and I saw and heard many cries of pain, but hopefully of gratitude as well for this awesome turnout in their honor.
I'm so glad I attended since I'd been so down in the dumps about so many things, but especially the cruelty of this crime and a reinforced attitude of despair for all mankind. But this event did much to nullify a lot of those feelings and got me feeling like this ol' world of ours might just have a chance after all. Like a candle flame in the slight wind of last night, it's hard to keep this light from being snuffed out, but I guess I'll give it a try.