You never know what the universe has in store or where inspiration is going to come from. This week I found it on ancestry.com. One of the people I was researching turned out to be a man who’s life was saved by a Cheesehead, that chunk of foam in the shape of a cheese wedge worn by Packer’s fans. He was involved in the crash of a small plane and the Cheesehead saved him from serious injury. He was someone I found in passing, vaguely connected by marriage to one of my cousins. I never would have known about him except for my passion for genealogy.
The man was returning home from a Packers game when the Cessna he was a passenger in encountered bad weather. As the plane was going down he grabbed the Cheesehead he had worn at the game and used it to shield his face, which helped him protect his head and chest. He more or less walked away from the crash. So many feelings have come up after seeing this story. I am a somewhat anxious flyer. I always watch the safety demonstration the flight attendants give at the beginning of the flight. I check the map of the plane and determine the best exit just in case I might (God forbid) need it. Thank goodness once I am in the air my anxiety lessens as I watch the clouds slip by under the plane and wonder at the teeny tiny landscape below. I’m fine until it’s time to land and then I slip back into fear mode. Not being a Packers fan I know I wouldn’t have a Cheesehead handy for emergency use. I am intrigued by the sheer randomness and life changing aspect of his surviving the crash. It made him famous. He was interviewed by the news media and appeared on the “Tonight Show” with Jay Leno. He became a spokesperson for a company selling Cheeseheads. I am sure having such a close encounter with death affected him in other ways too. Did he see life in a different way? Was he more adventuresome or more fearful? Did he value his family more and did they treat him differently knowing he could be taken away so suddenly? These are questions that come up as I deal with my own loss. I am trying to move through the loss of my sister. Sadness comes up as unexpectedly as finding a story about a guy saved by a Cheesehead. In some ways that story saved me. It gave me a moment to laugh at the sheer absurdity and unpredictability of life. Laughing is good. It’s just what I needed.
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Leslie Masona woman in search of her post-retirement future Guess what! By subscribing, you get notices about the latest Little Old Lady with Cats posts sent to your mailbox!
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