Previously published in The Berkshire Eagle, July 30, 2008
by Jessica Willis
LENOX — The New Jersey man who was struck by lightning at Tanglewood on Sunday afternoon is in stable condition, his wife said yesterday.
Sang Jough, 40, was taken off a respirator on Monday and is now breathing with the help of an oxygen mask, said Mari Homma-Jough, also 40.
"He's conscious, we can communicate, but he can't speak very clearly," Homma-Jough said.
Jough was transported to Westchester Medical Center in Valhalla, N.Y. after receiving initial treatment at Berkshire Medical Center in Pittsfield.
Homma-Jough said the lightning strike that left her husband unconscious and "technically (not) breathing" was truly unexpected; as the couple and their two children made their way onto the Tanglewood grounds, there hadn't been any previous flashes of lightning.
"If there had, we probably wouldn't have walked through the gate," she said.
Homma-Jough recalled that her husband was walking ahead of the others, followed by son Peter, 10, daughter Sarah, 7, and she took up the rear.
Sang, who is six feet, two inches tall, was holding an umbrella over himself and Peter, and they were hurrying toward the Shed.
"Suddenly, the sound of thunder came down in front of me," Homma-Jough said. "It came out of nowhere. The next moment, my son and husband were lying on the ground."
She said Peter quickly got to his feet, but Sang was lying face down, "totally knocked out," and smoke was coming from the back of his head.
"It was like watching a cartoon," Homma-Jough said. "I thought, 'You've got to be kidding.'"
And then she screamed for help.
Police and rescue crews came very quickly, Homma-Jough said, and she noted that law enforcement, ambulance crews, Tanglewood, and BMC did a wonderful job responding to the event.
Homma-Jough said that Peter had been holding the family's umbrella up until a few minutes before they walked in the gate, and Sang took it from him just moments before he was struck.
"I'm grateful for that," Homma-Jough said. "If (the lightning strike) had happened to my son, I'm not sure he would have made it."
Sang is very healthy, a regular at the gym, and he doesn't get sick, Homma-Jough said.
His strong constitution may have contributed to the fact that doctors couldn't detect any "internal burning" at this point, she added.
That lack of internal trauma is a positive sign, according to Ron Hayden, the chief of emergency medicine at BMC, who said that the lightning probably passed over Sang's umbrella and over the surface of his body.
"A direct hit can go through you and come out another part of the body," Hayden said. "When you get entrance and exit holes, you're probably toast."
Hayden also said Sang's direct hit was less common than a "proximity hit," where a nearby lightning strike "superheats" the air.
"People will look like they've been sunburned," Hayden said. "If they're wearing jewelry, they'll be singed (on that part of their body)."
Blown-out eardrums and burned corneas, along with symptoms that mimic a stroke, are not uncommon in victims, Hayden said.
Lightning strikes, which can carry 2,000 to two billion volts of electricity, often stop a victim's heart, but in most cases, the heart will start up again on its own, Hayden said.
The body's instinct to breathe may remain shut down, Hayden said, so CPR — which a deputy sheriff immediately administered to Sang after the strike — is essential for victims who have a pulse but are in respiratory arrest.
The Joughs were visiting Tanglewood from their home in Westwood, N.J., and she said Peter, who is a violinist, and Sarah, who is a pianist, were so thrilled to be attending a live performance of Beethoven's "Symphony No. 7" and Mendelssohn's "Violin Concerto," two of their favorite pieces.
"We had been planning the trip since April," Homma-Jough said. "And then it was all gone."
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Chemical veil
I don't use chemicals on my lawn or in my garden, but I get my daily overdose of pest-killer in the form of dipotassium phosphate, one of the ingredients in my Price Rite coffee creamer. The compound is also used to control fungal plant diseases on turf, ornamental plants, and non-bearing fruit and nut tree crops. However, the EPA does NOT approve dipotassium phosphate for pesticidal use on food or feed crops. Apparently Price Rite coffee creamer doesn't count as a food, even though humans swallow it. (http://www.epa.gov/opp00001/biopesticides/ingredients/factsheets/
factsheet_176407.htm)
factsheet_176407.htm)
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Philippe Petit
Previously published in The Berkshire Eagle, March 23, 2008
GREAT BARRINGTON -- Standing a quarter mile above the sidewalks of
lower Manhattan, he shot a steel cable from one roof to the other,
stepped over the edge, and took a 45-minute stroll in the void. In
doing so, the 24-year-old Frenchman became an icon.
Philippe Petit's high-wire walk between twin towers at the World
Trade Center in August 1974 certainly ranks as one of history's most
awe-inspiring feats of trespassing, and Petit will discuss the World
Trade Center event, and his other high-wire walks, at a free lecture
at Bard College at Simon's Rock on Tuesday.
Although the walk took place almost 34 years ago, the feeling has
stayed with him.
"I was the happiest man on Earth," the 58-year-old Petit recalls now,
at his home near Woodstock, N.Y. "I was elated to be offering the
world my dream."
The event took more than six years of planning, and Petit took every
minute detail into account, from the businessman and construction
worker disguises he and his helpers would wear so they could gain
access to the roof, to wind currents and the subtle swaying motion of
the skyscrapers.
"Uncertainties," says Petit, had been "completely eliminated" from
the act.
"I'm not attracted to risk," he added. "Risk is too dangerous, too
stupid. Walking on the wire is very intense."
Before the World Trade Center, Petit had one "giant illegal walk" on
his résumé: dancing, jumping, and yes, reclining on a wire between
the spires of Notre Dame cathedral, Paris, 1971.
How can he appear so relaxed when a three-quarter inch steel cable is
the only thing separating him from disaster?
"I'm in love with height," Petit said. "I feel very good up there.
I'm half-human, half-bird."
In the decades since his star turn in the muggy air 1,350 feet above
lower Manhattan, he has performed at the Eiffel Tower and the Opéra
in Paris, and at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in Manhattan;
he's the artist-in-residence at the latter.
All in all, Petit has performed 50 high-wire walks on five
continents, and getting older has been a change for the better, he
said.
"I lean on a lifetime of knowledge," Petit explained.
In 2001, Petit was working on "To Reach the Clouds," a book about the
World Trade Center high-wire walk, and after the Sept. 11 attacks,
the way he thought about the Twin Towers was forever changed.
"During the many years of preparation [for the World Trade Center
walk], I thought of them as my towers," Petit said. "Now, they're our
towers."
"To Reach the Clouds" was published in September 2002.
Generations later, Petit's performance is still resonating. A
documentary about the planning and execution of the World Trade
Center walk made the rounds at the Sundance Film Festival this year.
"Man on Wire" won the Audience Award and the Grand Jury Prize in the
World Cinema Documentary category.
"[The film] has taken on a life of its own," Petit marveled.
A performance at Easter Island in the South Pacific is in the works,
but at this point, the planning is in "the paper stage," he said.
There's also a new book, a feature film, and an event in New York in
the works, but Petit is staying mum about the details.
Regarding his upcoming talk at Simon's Rock, Petit said he hated
school as a youngster, and his lack of a classical education helped
foster his intuitive thinking.
Petit says he chooses to "grab pieces of knowledge and glue it
together in a ridiculous way, like a child," and he wants to share
his way of creating with the students.
"Do they have a 'Breaking the Rules' course at Simon's Rock?" Petit
asked. "If not, we'll change it!"
GREAT BARRINGTON -- Standing a quarter mile above the sidewalks of
lower Manhattan, he shot a steel cable from one roof to the other,
stepped over the edge, and took a 45-minute stroll in the void. In
doing so, the 24-year-old Frenchman became an icon.
Philippe Petit's high-wire walk between twin towers at the World
Trade Center in August 1974 certainly ranks as one of history's most
awe-inspiring feats of trespassing, and Petit will discuss the World
Trade Center event, and his other high-wire walks, at a free lecture
at Bard College at Simon's Rock on Tuesday.
Although the walk took place almost 34 years ago, the feeling has
stayed with him.
"I was the happiest man on Earth," the 58-year-old Petit recalls now,
at his home near Woodstock, N.Y. "I was elated to be offering the
world my dream."
The event took more than six years of planning, and Petit took every
minute detail into account, from the businessman and construction
worker disguises he and his helpers would wear so they could gain
access to the roof, to wind currents and the subtle swaying motion of
the skyscrapers.
"Uncertainties," says Petit, had been "completely eliminated" from
the act.
"I'm not attracted to risk," he added. "Risk is too dangerous, too
stupid. Walking on the wire is very intense."
Before the World Trade Center, Petit had one "giant illegal walk" on
his résumé: dancing, jumping, and yes, reclining on a wire between
the spires of Notre Dame cathedral, Paris, 1971.
How can he appear so relaxed when a three-quarter inch steel cable is
the only thing separating him from disaster?
"I'm in love with height," Petit said. "I feel very good up there.
I'm half-human, half-bird."
In the decades since his star turn in the muggy air 1,350 feet above
lower Manhattan, he has performed at the Eiffel Tower and the Opéra
in Paris, and at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in Manhattan;
he's the artist-in-residence at the latter.
All in all, Petit has performed 50 high-wire walks on five
continents, and getting older has been a change for the better, he
said.
"I lean on a lifetime of knowledge," Petit explained.
In 2001, Petit was working on "To Reach the Clouds," a book about the
World Trade Center high-wire walk, and after the Sept. 11 attacks,
the way he thought about the Twin Towers was forever changed.
"During the many years of preparation [for the World Trade Center
walk], I thought of them as my towers," Petit said. "Now, they're our
towers."
"To Reach the Clouds" was published in September 2002.
Generations later, Petit's performance is still resonating. A
documentary about the planning and execution of the World Trade
Center walk made the rounds at the Sundance Film Festival this year.
"Man on Wire" won the Audience Award and the Grand Jury Prize in the
World Cinema Documentary category.
"[The film] has taken on a life of its own," Petit marveled.
A performance at Easter Island in the South Pacific is in the works,
but at this point, the planning is in "the paper stage," he said.
There's also a new book, a feature film, and an event in New York in
the works, but Petit is staying mum about the details.
Regarding his upcoming talk at Simon's Rock, Petit said he hated
school as a youngster, and his lack of a classical education helped
foster his intuitive thinking.
Petit says he chooses to "grab pieces of knowledge and glue it
together in a ridiculous way, like a child," and he wants to share
his way of creating with the students.
"Do they have a 'Breaking the Rules' course at Simon's Rock?" Petit
asked. "If not, we'll change it!"
Monday, March 3, 2008
Somebody versus somebody else in the what's it called bowl
Previously published in The Berkshire Eagle, January 31, 2008
Super Bowl -- so what?
Yes, they're out there, lurking among you: The furtive, clueless few
who don't know when the game starts, don't know who's playing, and,
perhaps worst of all, just don't care.
Take, for example, Marylou MacDowell, 57, of Pittsfield, who "never
not ever" cared about the Super Bowl, and who said that sports were
only on her radar when she personally knew one of the athletes who
was taking part in an event.
"I find [professional sports] really, really boring and repetitive,"
MacDowell said. "They keep playing the same game."
Could MacDowell at least name the teams playing in Sunday's epic
battle?
"Yes," she replied. "The Patriots and someone from New York." That
would be the Giants, who actually play their home games in New
Jersey.
In previous years, MacDowell was known to hold an "Un-Super Bowl"
party in her home on the night of the big game, and instead of wings,
beer, and several couch-loads of rowdy acquaintances, MacDowell had a
formal sit-down dinner for six of her closest friends.
And the Un-Super Bowl television entertainment? Well, it wasn't men
in helmets and spandex. After an elegant meal, MacDowell and her
guests watched "un-footbally" schlock films. The only rule? The
movies had to be about men who cross-dressed, or made by men who
cross-dressed.
"We went through all of Ed Wood's films," MacDowell said, referring
to the angora and pearls-wearing, grade-Z movie director. "We also
saw 'Lobster Man From Mars,' stuff like that."
Matt Rock, a 44-year-old landscaper from the town of Washington, said
he'll buck the trend Sunday and will watch "Modern Marvels," his
favorite show on The History Channel.
"I've watched one game since the strike," Rock said, referring to the
NFL players' strike of 1987.
Why has it been that long?
"[The players] are way overpaid now," he said. "I'd rather watch a
nonprofit sport, where their hearts are into it. Football is a big
industry now."
A long-standing resentment of the Super Bowl is just one reason why
Rachel Purcell, 47, of Ashley Falls won't be tuning in.
"The Super Bowl always delayed my favorite [television] shows," she
said.
Purcell, the manager of Crystal Essence, a holistic gift store on
Railroad Street in Great Barrington, noted that the game might mean
more to her if it solved world problems -- "maybe if the United
States and Iraq were the two teams," she mused.
Purcell's co-worker, Kate Mulligan, 33, was perplexed about the
actual date of the Super Bowl.
"Didn't the Patriots already win?" she asked. "Or is it coming up?"
When told that the game is Sunday, Mulligan shrugged and grinned. "I
love watching guys watch football. It's tribal."
She also said she would be more likely to be excited by the Super
Bowl if she actually attended the game.
So if someone offered Mulligan two tickets to Sunday's game in
Arizona would she go?
"No, I'd sell them and pay my mortgage," she replied.
Super Bowl -- so what?
Yes, they're out there, lurking among you: The furtive, clueless few
who don't know when the game starts, don't know who's playing, and,
perhaps worst of all, just don't care.
Take, for example, Marylou MacDowell, 57, of Pittsfield, who "never
not ever" cared about the Super Bowl, and who said that sports were
only on her radar when she personally knew one of the athletes who
was taking part in an event.
"I find [professional sports] really, really boring and repetitive,"
MacDowell said. "They keep playing the same game."
Could MacDowell at least name the teams playing in Sunday's epic
battle?
"Yes," she replied. "The Patriots and someone from New York." That
would be the Giants, who actually play their home games in New
Jersey.
In previous years, MacDowell was known to hold an "Un-Super Bowl"
party in her home on the night of the big game, and instead of wings,
beer, and several couch-loads of rowdy acquaintances, MacDowell had a
formal sit-down dinner for six of her closest friends.
And the Un-Super Bowl television entertainment? Well, it wasn't men
in helmets and spandex. After an elegant meal, MacDowell and her
guests watched "un-footbally" schlock films. The only rule? The
movies had to be about men who cross-dressed, or made by men who
cross-dressed.
"We went through all of Ed Wood's films," MacDowell said, referring
to the angora and pearls-wearing, grade-Z movie director. "We also
saw 'Lobster Man From Mars,' stuff like that."
Matt Rock, a 44-year-old landscaper from the town of Washington, said
he'll buck the trend Sunday and will watch "Modern Marvels," his
favorite show on The History Channel.
"I've watched one game since the strike," Rock said, referring to the
NFL players' strike of 1987.
Why has it been that long?
"[The players] are way overpaid now," he said. "I'd rather watch a
nonprofit sport, where their hearts are into it. Football is a big
industry now."
A long-standing resentment of the Super Bowl is just one reason why
Rachel Purcell, 47, of Ashley Falls won't be tuning in.
"The Super Bowl always delayed my favorite [television] shows," she
said.
Purcell, the manager of Crystal Essence, a holistic gift store on
Railroad Street in Great Barrington, noted that the game might mean
more to her if it solved world problems -- "maybe if the United
States and Iraq were the two teams," she mused.
Purcell's co-worker, Kate Mulligan, 33, was perplexed about the
actual date of the Super Bowl.
"Didn't the Patriots already win?" she asked. "Or is it coming up?"
When told that the game is Sunday, Mulligan shrugged and grinned. "I
love watching guys watch football. It's tribal."
She also said she would be more likely to be excited by the Super
Bowl if she actually attended the game.
So if someone offered Mulligan two tickets to Sunday's game in
Arizona would she go?
"No, I'd sell them and pay my mortgage," she replied.
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