Tuesday, 24 January 1989 10:51 P

Ted Bundy was executed today at dawn. Several people showed up. They sold T-shirts saying “Ted Bundy was fried today,” they sang sick songs, they chanted “Burn, Bundy, Burn!” and one McDonalds even put up a sign saying “Free fries if Bundy fries.” I think the whole thing is sick. They call it justice; I call it murder. As long as Bundy is alive, he has a chance to repent; when they killed him, they took away his chance of accepting Jesus. They say he spent his last night with a minister praying. I prayed last night that Jesus would forgive him and the people who were to execute him. I pray Ted Bundy received Jesus before his death. I pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Saturday, 21 January 1989 11:56 P

Barbara woke me up at 8:30 this morning, asking me to babysit Sarah for a couple of hours. I dragged myself over there and by 8:50 Barbara, Bob, & Debbie were on their way to get their hair cut. At 11:30 I went home. I watched Oh, Heavenly Dog on VCR after dinner. Then Mom put on a tape about the conspiracy & mystery behind the death of Robert Kennedy. I think that one guard did it. Around 5:30 Debbie, Mom, & I packed Debbie’s things in the station wagon & drove to the dorms. This is Debbie’s first time in a dorm. Mom helped us unload, then went to work. It took me & Debbie 3 trips to get all her stuff on the 4th floor, with the help of 2 girls on the last trip. In 1 1/2 hours, we had everything put away.

Friday, 20 January 1989

The last day of 1st semester of the ‘88 – ‘89 school year. I’m in 2nd period – English, with Miss Casey. She’s giving us our grades for 2nd quarter. We took the finals yesterday but the Scan-Tron machine didn’t work. I just found out I got an A! I thought I’d be lucky if I pulled a B! I hope all my teachers are that generous. Angie kept cutting on Joey this morning so finally I got sick of it & said, “Oh, shut up, you Fat Mouth!” Fat Mouth?! She stormed outside to wait for the bus. Would you believe I forgave her for last night? I’m a little upset at myself because I realize no matter what she does, I’m always going to forgive her and it doesn’t make a bit of difference to her. She probably just forgets she ever did anything & isn’t in the least remorseful. And I bet she’ll hold a grudge for weeks because I called her “Fat Mouth.” We have a Pep Assembly today, so that’ll be interesting. I told Debbie last night about something I did in 7th grade and she told Mom. Mom almost scolded me! For something I did 4 years ago! This is what I did: Setting – 7th grade classroom, St. Bart’s grade school. My teacher was Mrs. Green. We had a big project we were supposed to do, worth tons of points. I didn’t do it. A couple days after it was due, Mrs. Green asked me if I handed it in. I said yes. She said she doesn’t know where it could be. So she checked her desk while I checked mine. When we couldn’t find it (obviously) she decided to give me the points anyway, because, after all, it wasn’t my fault it got lost!

This is 3rd hour Chemistry. I’m getting better at it, ever since I got an A first semester.

This is 4th hour Algebra II. I don’t belong here; it’s too easy for me. Which reminds me; I have to see my counselor about a summer math course.

 

12 January 1989 10:00 P

I had an overall good day today. I just ran downstairs to thank Mom. This morning she wrote a note to each one of us kids telling us exactly what work we had to do when we got home from school. We all got our work done. All we needed was someone to lay down the law and stick to it. Which reminds me, I wrote out New Year’s Resolutions (things like: brush teeth every day, put away things, read Bible, write in diary) and so far I’ve pretty much stuck to them. Except 2 times I forgot to brush my teeth. You might notice I’m getting to bed earlier, too. Mom took a friend to Bananza & came back saying she’ll never go to another smorgasborg. She had a stomachache & threw up 4 times.

The Metal Hotel (rough draft)

As I finished reading the last line of the inscription, the elevator slowed, then stopped. The doors opened to reveal the 8th floor. The room was so immensely large and dark that it seemed to go on forever. As far as I could see, the room was filled with long rectangular tables. I looked further in until the tables faded into the darkness. Seated at these tables were large individuals crammed side by side.

From the left flew a short, fat ghost trailing green slime everywhere he went. He found those in the elevator with the appointed number 8 and bade them to follow. Again the Poet dragged me behind them. The ghost guided each new arrival to his seat. Before them was a large pot of leftovers mixed together and as soon as they sat they began to eat. Those around them would occasionally vomit, then begin eating again. The pots never emptied, and the gluttons grew larger.

From behind I heard a noise and, as I turned, a man of a grotesque size exploded. Debris landed everywhere, and the people continued to eat. The man, now much smaller but still obese, resumed his position and dug in. I recognized this man as one from childhood known as Albert. Fat Albert.

We soon arrived at the elevator again. As we descended, Dr. Suess informed me that we will eventually meet Satan. On that happy note, I walked onto the next floor.

Everyone was on one side of the room. People were shaking, having convulsions, and mumbling and shouting nonsense about obvious hallucinations. A man screamed in pain as imaginary bees stung him. He ran to the other side of the room and straight into the wall which, to my horror, was built of hypodermic needles. The man crawled back to the other side of the room shaking. This man was the famous King, the one and only Elvis Presley. Next to him sat the detective Sherlock Holmes. As we walked away, I wondered if he was devising a plan of escape.

Next were those filled with perversion and adultery. A creature – so grotesque I felt a great urge to vomit – ran to us and showered us with proclamations of our beauty. I asked its name and it answered, “I’m afraid I can’t tell you my real name, for I don’t remember it. In life I was referred to as Peeping Tom. Here I am not referred to, only stared at and forced to stare. Everyone here is drowned in supreme ugliness and deformations, which change from time to time so we can never get used to them.”

With that his skin bubbled and his eyes hung out. We quickly turned and headed for the elevator. As the doors closed, I caught a quick but startling glimpse of John Kennedy, beloved President. That glimpse was to stay with me even after my Journey.

We didn’t stay long on the 5th floor, home of Benedict Arnold and all those like him. They ran around with axes and swords cutting at each other, occasionally stopping to hold a limb in place until it healed.

On the next floor were the thieves, those who took from others. It was their fate to sneak up to others and try to “swap” parts of themselves. If a man had brown eyes and wanted green, he would rip them out of another and exchange them for his. As I watched men try on their new arms for size, I noticed two women reaching for the same nose. When they realized the other’s intentions, they pounced on each other and fought like wild cats.

As to who won I don’t know, for a man approached me and attempted to yank my arm off. I turned and asked him his business. Seeing that I was “real”, he began to question me about Jesus Christ. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of Him, but He was quite famous when I was living. Would you know if He really was the Messiah?” I told him of course He is. With that, he began to brag that he was crucified right next to Jesus, and had even called Him names. I turned in disgust and walked back to the elevator.

By now it was getting very hot. Somehow I didn’t feel it, but those around me did. The elevator walls began to glow orange and the floor was a pool of sweat.

On the third floor were those who were prejudice against others. Demons flew around the sinners, who were knee-deep in beetles and spiders and other small things. The demons took on the forms of blacks, hmongs, Indians, Jews, Polacks, etc. and ridiculed the people as they whipped them. The bugs climbed all over them, biting and stinging.

As we re-entered the elevator, a demon pushed a man in whom I recognized and detested. I asked the Poet what they were doing with him and his answer was: Hitler as a sinner is both a Jew-hater and a murderer and shall suffer twice as much.

We finally got to the worst sinners: the brutal murderers of most often innocent lives. Only 2 people did I recognize from recent history. These were Lee Harvey Oswald and Ted Bundy. Although it appeared as though they got the lightest of punishments, they truly suffered the worst. Their punishment was that they were made good. Completely and wholly good. Every day they were aware of the beauty of heaven they were without. But worst of all is the pain of remembering their crimes, and knowing that they can never be forgiven.

When I entered the elevator I shook to think of the beast I would encounter. It seemed years before the elevator slowed and the doors opened. And when they did, all I could see were great balls of fire.

Suddenly I heard an evil laugh and out of the flames flew a black angel. Its face could turn Medusa to stone. As it swooped down upon me, white angels flew all around me and praised the Lord loudly. The black angel shrunk back and flew to the flames.

Before I knew it, we were back in the elevator. We went to the roof where the helicopter was waiting and there I flew off to begin another adventure.

THE END

28 September 1988

A tragedy is a great catastrophe while things were really good.

One example of a tragedy is the Stock Market Crash. Some people were living expensively with money in the bank and plenty of stocks. Then all of a sudden the stocks weren’t worth a cent and the bank couldn’t give their money back. They lost it all and had to start all over.

30 August 1988

Moral: Friends who don’t stand by you in times of trouble are not friends at all.

Example: In grade school, if I got picked on, some of my “friends” would either join in on the teasing or leave me there to be picked on alone instead of sticking up for me. They didn’t want to be teased, so they pretended we weren’t friends.

 

3 May 1988

President,

My name is Emma Smurch, mother of that ungrateful brat, Jack Smurch. I’m sure America’s dying to know all about his family, starting with his dear, old, grieving ma. Of course, if “Ma” didn’t want to see anybody, they’d understand. Do you understand? I figure a little money sent every month for the rest of my life ought to keep me out of the picture. Plus the extra money the U.S. figures my son deserved for his “courage” and “strength.”

By the way, if you’re thinkin’ about messin’ with me the way you messed with my greedy, grease-spot of a son, forget it. I’ve got Grieving Pa, Grieving Sister, and Grieving Gramma backing me up.

Sweet dreams,

Emma “Gal” Smurch

17 September 1986

“The Lady or the Tiger”

The tiger was in the door on the right. The princess allowed the commoner to be eaten because she was semi-barbaric and it wouldn’t disgust her as much as it would to people today. She was so jealous of that lady that she wouldn’t allow her to have something she herself didn’t have. She wouldn’t have been able to bear the idea of that lady and him falling in love. She would’ve felt that even a commoner had chosen that lady over herself. She would – and so would everybody else – be reminded daily of her failure. This way, after a while everybody will forget.

 

23 May 1986

Graduation Speech

For the past few weeks, as we have been preparing for our graduation from St. Bart’s, we have been looking back on some good times that we’ve shared through the years. We remember when we first came to St. Bart’s as frightened first-graders and Mrs. Weisner helped calm our fears with her kindness. We remember the excitement of second grade as Mrs. Wagner helped us prepare for the sacrament of the Eucharist for the first time. We remember the love and tenderness of Mrs. Peterson and, although we were sorry to see her leave, in the middle of the year, Mrs Valla made us feel at ease with the sudden change. We remember the way Mrs. Schrader and Mrs Mick enlightened our days through fourth and fifth grade with their humor. We remember Mrs. Graven, not only as a teacher but as a friend. We will never forget how she humorously gave us tips on egging houses. For a Christmas present that year, we received Miss Monrovia, who accepted the challenge of teaching in a new environment in the middle of our sixth grade year. Perhaps Mrs. Green and Mr. Albertson have helped us the most to mature and prepare for high school. For all of our teachers and memories we are grateful.

This year’s graduating class of St. Bart’s School has chosen “Spread Your Wings: Let Your Dreams Soar” as its motto. We chose this motto in hopes that it will encourage us to expand our horizons and use our talents to the best of our abilities.

Today we are given a chance to spread our wings. We are given the chance to go on and truly let our dreams soar. But it doesn’t stop here. We must work to improve our talents every day and never stop dreaming. When I say “we”, I am not speaking just for the present eighth grade class of St. Bart’s School. I am speaking for everybody. You are never too young or too old. You can’t give up because, as you will see in our slide presentation tonight, the greatest love of all is learning to love yourself.