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Second Chance I’ve watched the footage countless times mesmerized by the Focke-Wulf 190 trailing smoke…plummeting…inverted the fighter mortally wounded by an American P-51 having undone his seat harness
flipped the airplane upside down with what little control remains
the pilot shoots free of the cockpit head first towards Earth the film always cuts to another scene just before the part where the parachute fails to open evoking my fear of heights fascination with all things Third Reich streets…buildings…faces a feeling of connectedness where there should be none and a not so foreign language “Spreken
sie Deutsch?” “Nein” I reply compels me to learn again those distant words and yet always as close as another viewing of the film raised Roman Catholic I was taught not to believe in a second chance “only one kick at the can” so the priests did say and yet late at night…early in the morning caught in that state of in-between fragments reassemble… I vaguely recall being in a large hall surrounded by many judges me begging to go back and put things right “He was only defending his homeland, did not subscribe to Nazi ideology” retorts my defender in robes of burgundy and then 1957 born…a continent…decade…a history away another lifetime to discover who I really am still haunted by the past…and the next future long abandoned the warlike persona known in the years of repeated youth drawing ever closer to the end again I work hard at perfecting perfection unseen forces giving me many opportunities in winter I stop at the community mailboxes to unexpectedly find a neighbor’s keys forgotten in the key hole address easily traced from the number on the box walking them over at the very moment she arrives someone I’ve never met before worried sick at where she had misplaced them thanks me with a hug as 60 some years on though still a pilot in my soul grounded in penance and contrition I take comfort how in acts of kindness such as this there’s hope for me yet © 2007
Chris Sorrenti
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