I Confronted My Own Demons in Pompeii
Natural Disasters Remind Us of Our Insignificance
I’ve traveled a lot, all over the world.
I like to describe myself as an untourist. However, there are times when I indulge myself. Pompeii was one of those times.
I’ve only been to Italy once. Fortunately, I was there for almost a month. I tend to enjoy a small region rather than try to cover as much ground as possible. I prefer immersing myself in the daily routines of the local people and developing a more intimate relationship with my chosen surroundings.
I had longed to see Pompeii since I was in the third grade.
If you’re an American of a certain age, you most likely will recall a little paper called The Weekly Reader. I enjoyed the weekly reader when I was in Mrs. Hollenbeck’s third grade class. The story of Pompeii stayed with me for my entire life. The Weekly Reader story included photos of people frozen in time, caught right in the middle of sleeping, eating at their tables, petting their dogs, by the eruption of the mighty Mt. Vesuvius.
Their lives were snuffed out in an instant.
I could barely sleep for days after reading that story. First of all, I was horrified by the very thought of the formidable powers of Mt. Vesuvius. To be living one’s life in the shadow of this volcano was a haunting proposition.
Second, I’ve always been spooked by old photos.
When I see people from days gone by staring into the camera, dressed in the attire of the day, holding a flower or sitting by a fireplace, it feels like I’m looking right into the eyes of a ghost. My mom use to hide newspaper articles that covered the violent deaths of local people. She knew that I couldn’t sleep for days if I read those sad accounts.
Old photos stir up questions.
What made the person in the photo happy? Were they loved? Did they have dreams that went unfulfilled? What made them tick? The photos in the Weekly Reader of Pompeii triggered the same reactions.
So, that’s why I chose to stay in Sorrento and explore the Amalfi coast, the Isle of Capri, and the remains of the ancient city of Pompeii.
I spent two full days in Pompeii and I would return in a heartbeat. The only regret I have is that I didn’t hire a local person to spend at least part of a day with me as I explored this ancient city. There was so much to see and so many stories surrounding this cataclysmic event.
Talk about a haunting experience.
The excavation site has uncovered houses, fountains, murals, the remnants of food, streets, gladiator rings, fast food eateries, spas, statues and bodies. About 100 bodies have been excavated and preserved. The history of an entire era is buried in the volcanic ashes.
I often tried to imagine the last moments of those living in Pompeii. Their experience with an unexpected disaster reminds me that every morning when we awake could be our last. They no doubt had routines and jobs, family members who depended upon them, children that they loved, even pets. They took pride in their homes and possessions, worried about their future, and encountered disease, pestilence, and constant threat to their survival.
Just like us.
Nothing has changed. We still remain at the mercy of Mother Nature and the unexpected. The excavation has revealed how ordinary citizens lived their lives. We know they had slaves and where the slaves slept. We know that Pompeii had mansions but also many working poor. Our technology may be more advanced today but the evolution of our social skills are stunted, largely the same as ancient Pompeii.
People are often surprised at the size of the city of Pompeii.
They may not know, however, that only about two thirds of the city has been uncovered. Many secrets of the past remain buried by the debris from the eruption that took place almost 2000 years ago. Unfortunately, the excavation skills of the past weren’t as advanced and so many mistakes were made. Archeologists today might shudder at some of the unintentional damage done.
The challenge we face now is how to preserve and care for the excavated regions of the city. Now that it’s exposed to the elements and requires significant funds to maintain, can we keep it from disintegrating from sheer exposure?
I was just a child when I first heard about Pompeii. It left a permanet mark on my heart.
Much like the first time I read about the holocaust. Both were horrific historical events, one manmade and the other a result of a natural disaster. I couldn't come to terms with the fact that life is a violent mass of random confusion and intentional design. There’s nothing fair about life.
Death is the great equalizer.
Yet, during those two days when I walked the streets of Pompeii, I met my third grade demons face to face. I let the compassion flow for those buried in the debris and then accepted the fact that it could happen to me, too. My third grade self cursed Mt. Vesuvius as it loomed on the horizon. For almost a month I lived with the volcano in my line of vision. It became a symbol of how small and insignificant I really am.
I faced my demons at Pompeii and lived to write about it. That may very well be as good as it gets.
Teresa Roberts is a retired educator, author, world traveler, and professional myth buster. You can find her books on Amazon.
