One of the peculiarities of how I play the Actual Reality Game is the file of Records of Events. The peculiarity is that such a file exists. Why do I keep such records? What do they say about the way I play the game?
Records of Events contains reports of transitions which I felt, upon discovery, to be in some way significant to understanding my life. Most of these are newspaper obituaries of people who were a part of my life for very short periods of time.
For example, one record is the Chicago Tribune's obituary of "Dr. Paul W. Sutton: 1937 - 2008". Professor Sutton taught physics at North Central College. I did take one course from him there but he was of more significance to my life by offering me an independent study to program a library of routines for the college's new and first computer. (That and also conversations in his office.) Altogether I knew Dr. Sutton for only about 3 years and much of that acquaintance seems fairly superficial. I include his obituary in Records of Events because he serves as an emblem of my becoming aware of the centrality of computer programming in my identity.
Another example is the 1968 obituary of Harvey Duncan Gray, "Plainfield youth who was killed in action in Vietnam". He is in the Records of Events because he was a camp counselor at a moment in my life when an older teenage guy would automatically be a role model. He was a conscientious objector. He turned 19 during our week of camp. He was an only child. He was thinking about being a missionary. And he was killed by our political leaders' inability to visualize a way out of incessant death and killing. In other words, his life and death stood for much of what was in my head from 1965 to 1973.
One of the curious things one might pick up from these records are hints of peripheral linkages to shared identities. For example, an unexpectedly large fraction of the people included had ties to the United Methodist Church. In some cases the church connection played into how I came to know them, or at least may have had an indirect role in how we were in the same place; in some cases I was unaware of that shared history before reading the person's obituary; and of course the size of the UMC has a purely statistical impact on the likelihood of any 2 people sharing this background. On the other hand, a shared denomination could also be an indicator of more shared outlook or values.
All of this is interesting and yet not the answer to the question I posed: Why do I keep such records? Or rather why do I keep SOME such records but not others? The answer, I believe, is that the people and events represented in the Records of Events stand for life decisions, those forks in the road which seem to determine the course of my life thereafter: Am I called to ministry or is the idea of seminary only a way to hold off Selective Service for another few years? Do I become a computer programmer or a newspaper reporter? What place does teaching have in my life?
The distinctive aspect of the questions behind these Records of Events is that I never abandoned the path not taken. I may not have sought ordination but I have been preaching. I walked away from being a high school teacher but I kept renewing my teaching license for decades. I turned down that job offer on the Hurley paper but my hand twitches around the imaginary blue pencil with every published error in spelling, grammar, or punctuation I spot. Or make.
Those Records of Events serve as a reminder that decisions have been made and the ways I can play the Actual Reality Game is different because of them. Some experiences I have had and others I will never have -- not because Henry Kirchoff died but because of the view of life I developed partly in his presence.