Recently I have been compelled to reflect on the emotional power of events and experiences buried in our memories. The impact of the sudden recovery of memories that have been buried in our sub-conscious for a long time can be quite startling and disturbing. One such took me by surprise today.
Back in 1944 an American bomber stationed in the UK was returning from a mission over continental Europe and over the city of Sheffield it became evident that it was not going to make it to its base. The pilot considered landing in a park, but realised that there were people there, and in any case the attempt might cause the plane to crash into houses. He abandoned the attempted landing and crashed into the woodland, killing all the crew but saving civilian lives. This event is to be celebrated tomorrow, on the 75th anniversary, with a fly-past of military aircraft over the park. The preparations for this were reviewed on the local TV news tonight.
Suddenly I found myself shaken by the report to the extent that I was fighting back tears. It took me right back to an event in my own childhood. Shortly after the end of the war I was on holiday with my family on the beach in the Norfolk resort of Cromer. I remember an aircraft approaching from the sea, and my father picking up my brother and myself and running along the beach. The ‘plane crashed into the cliff above the beach, burst into flames, and all on board were killed. It had been bringing back soldiers from war service. It appears that the pilot had been intending to land on the sand, but seeing the holiday-makers on the beach had decided to attempt to land in the fields on top of the cliff, but he never made it.
I feel that it ought to be possible to harness these experiences as the driving force of some creative process. This is an idea developed long ago by the Russian dramaturge Konstantin Stanislavski. At the moment, however, I have little idea of how to realise this potential. These experiences are not resources that I can use. I wonder if and how it might be possible to change that.
A very touching story, John.