My
uncle was a volunteer fire-fighter in Camden.
Ferdinand
called us to the site of many fires in Camden, most of which were devastating.
Our
house burned during a remodel. My grandmother’s house burned from a lightning
strike. Camden burned on Christmas Eve. My insides become Jello, even now.
Ken Follet’s Pillars of the Earth is a saga
about generations of builders and those who built a cathedral. The plot is far
deeper and much thicker than that. The cathedral would burn. They would rebuild
again and again. Straw roofs, straw-filled bricks, timber…it burns. What
remains?
The devastating fire at Notre Dame in Paris this week
has deeply affected me, though I’ve seen the cathedral only through the trip
diaries of friends, photographs, and one special history teacher.
She and her husband had traveled the world, so, when
she became a renowned professor of world history, she brought with her stories
that fascinated and brought “world civ” to life for me.
In the day of big hair, she had it. A poof of coiffed
black hair and a wardrobe befitting a grand lady, in high-heels that had
everything to do with style, she commanded my attention in her classroom in Evans
Hall.
Though this class was a survey class, she poured her
soul into her lectures and I breathed in every word. I learned history that I
use in trying to understand our world story. In studying chronological Bible
texts that contain sidebars of history and culture, I dig deep into my archives
filled with history I witnessed because of her. Dr. Vincent was a jewel, pun
intended.
I saw Notre Dame cathedral’s flying buttresses, rose
windows, spire, towers, interior grandeur through Dr. Vincent’s description,
slides, stories; her own sense of awe became mine.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUF3V4NCkFjazghBbv2s8cVq9GcqNT46yd0tnNKMhaEuNjYuJMvAUYWIlam82ICtSPHWCAxvnTgiRU4nEevNqk9WcNnHF7KJms8vd6e83gwpyzrQSu7EjogLhhg5AtIyR4v36Zk8lWtKF/s200/flying+buttresses.jpg)
Notre Dame cathedral survived centuries of war, the battering
of nature, and was almost totally lost to fire while in the process of a
much-needed renovation. Those far wiser than I will figure out what to do to
save our grand lady.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6b3w4UVI5cnIUyINazurP-HWj19UBwyiy_zD2mR2upJ44GgHp29Kdft-yAUEwImaBL4k_AG37NVB6rFLa4zXRMQqutEhMXn79hHzWKGYWLRBxIliSenLcZyatDW3l75SEK9LKWhZ-hthf/s200/ND+fire.jpg)
Our Lady, treasure of the western world,
will be rebuilt as a testimony to resilience and faith in God and the collaborative
ability of mankind.
Fire can become a living, breathing monster, devouring
whatever is in its path. Men and women can shrink in fear or rise and show the
world an indomitable spirit, not lost in ashes.
Poignant piece, Jane. Loved it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Pat.
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