She lived

I’ve heard Kitty Genovese’s name dozens of times, most frequently in college. Tonight, my husband brought her up as we discussed the book I just started reading.

“She was raped and murdered while nobody called–” Anthony began, pausing when he saw the stricken look on my face.

“Oh, my God,” I replied. “We talked about her all the time in college classes, but not really about her–always about how she died and what we could learn from how she died. Fuck, dozens of times I’ve heard about her death, but never about her.” I got my phone and began looking into who she was, so that when I hear her name in the future I can know her by some of her life instead of its last 30 minutes.

She didn’t just die. SHE LIVED.

After I set down my phone, I apologized to my husband for bailing on our earlier conversation. He shook his head to dismiss my apology, saying, “You wanted her to be more than a factoid.”

I wish I could have five minutes with Kitty herself, to hear about her life as she lived it instead of as others witnessed it.

These are some of the things I wish I could ask her:

  • What’s your favorite kind of ice cream? What’s your favorite memory of eating ice cream?
  • What was the most annoying thing any of your siblings ever did?
  • If you only were allowed to read one book for the rest of forever, which book? Why?
  • How did you like bartending, compared to clerical work?
  • What’s the kindest thing anyone ever did for you? That you did for someone else?
  • What’s the worst trouble you ever got in? What didn’t you get in trouble for because no one caught you?
  • Tell me about your first kiss!
  • If you got to choose one thing people will remember about you, what would you choose?

This 4/5/17 post transferred from L2SP 8/21/17

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