Regarding Tallahassee

In my last post, I found myself tackling an overwhelming issue that many of us deal with at a conscious or subconscious level--processing the overwhelming nature of violence in the headlines. I was kind of wondering why I was writing such a post. Although horrifying news is something I often grapple with, I wasn't quite sure why I was writing about such a hugely vast (not to mention relatively upsetting) topic. Minutes after I hit the publish button, I saw the news on my computer that there was a shooting in a yoga studio in Tallahassee, FL. This struck home for many reasons: I had just written on the topic, thinking of the fear of violence far off coming closer to home as we see in the news, and then I see in the headlines an act of senseless violence against a yoga community in a town that I grew up in as my second home. It was a bit surreal and uncanny. My sisters and I all felt it and the text messages in our group thread began.

Our father's restaurant was in Tallahassee from the 80s up through 2004 or so. My dad had several restaurants and many friends in the community. He was the Italian restaurant of Tallahassee, and made his third and fourth World's Largest Pizza just outside the capitol. Here is a commercial featuring my father and his restaurant to give you a sense of his legacy and love for Tallahassee. I also just found a recent article (from 2014) from the Tallahassee Democrat, (written years after my father left Tallahassee) describing the history surrounding the making of the World's Largest Pizza and his reputation as a bon vivant.

There are funny commercials that I have on video cassette: one of him in a tuxedo running from one restaurant (on Tharpe street) to his other restaurant (on W. Tennessee Street) to the sound of Vivaldi as he balanced a straw bottle of Chianti on a server's tray and red linen. You can see why many people I would meet in Tally admired the character my father was--not to mention his genuine hospitality and the delicious "celebrity pastas." When there was the question surrounding the re-election of George W. Bush, international reporters were at our restaurant. Many respected FSU professors and coaches, as well as senators, would eat there. FSU was also my brother's and my alma mater. It was--and still is--a peaceful, slow, resilient community. 

So, given this family history, given the swaying Spanish moss, sturdy oaks, and canopy roads of this southern town (Tallahassee is "more southern Georgia than Florida" as they say) and given the peacefulness of residing in such a town, it was startling to see Tallahassee associated with such a horrifying tragedy. Of course, the whole point is that these things can happen anywhere.

Yet what also struck me was something my older sister, Nancy, shared--it was a quote from Mr. Rogers, who in fact was quoting his own mother: In any tragedy, you can "look for the helpers." My sister followed this with a blurb about a man who, in his bare feet, charged the shooter and saved other lives that morning. The helpers. They rise up. As I was saying in my last post, people take courage when they have to. 

Soon after the news broke, sixty people gathered in front of the capitol to do yoga in honor of the doctor / owner of the yoga studio who was killed, as well as the young woman too. The beauty of the community practice does not restore the lives of those who were lost, not by any stretch of the imagination. And yet the photo is very poignant given the context, as they take their bodies and hearts to the mat on the pavement, honoring the women whose lives were taken. Here is the incredibly touching photo my sister found in the news:

Tallahassee, FL. November 3, 2018

Two beautiful souls are carrying on their voyage beyond Tallahassee. May they find peace.

"Put flowers in the mud baby"

~U2