I love this story. It was told by Loren Eiseley, an anthropologist and one of my favorite science writers. Eiseley grew up in Nebraska and one day, when he was in high school, he happened to glance out the window and saw a junkman heading up a city street.
In 1923, junkmen collected potentially valuable garbage and hauled it off for resale. This particular junkman, Eiseley wrote, had "a broken old horse plodding before a cart laden with bags of cast-off clothing, discarded furniture and abandoned metal. The horse's harness was a makeshift combination of straps mended with rope. The bearded man perched high in the driver's seat looked as though he had been compounded from the assorted junk heap in the wagon bed."
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A few moments later, when the junkman and his wagon were about to round a corner at the intersection of R and 14th streets, Loren says he "leaned from a high school window a block away, absorbed as only a sixteen year old may sometimes be with the sudden discovery of time. It is all going, I thought with the bitter desperation of the young confronting history. No one can hold us. Each and all, we are riding into the dark."
"I had thought instantly, now, save him, immortalize the unseizable moment. The junkman is the symbol of all that is going or is gone. He is passing the intersection into nothingness. Say to the mind, 'Hold him, do not forget.'"
Forty-six years later, when he wrote his essay, Eiseley supposed "the man on the wagon is dead, his cargo disbursed, never to be reassembled. The plodding beast has been overtaken by whatever fate comes upon a junkman's horse." But in his mind the junkman was still turning onto R Street, held in mid-turn, "prevented from departing".
"The power to free him is not mine," Eiseley wrote. "He is held enchanted because long ago I willed a miniature of history, confined to a single brain." As long as Eiseley's heart kept beating, as long as oxygen kept flowing to his neurons, that junkman would stay frozen. Such is the power of mind.
Until Loren Eiseley died in 1977. At that moment, one imagines, the junkman was released and allowed to fade away, in effect completing his long delayed escape onto R Street, except for the inconvenient fact that he had slipped from Eiseley's brain onto a page, then to a book, then to many books, then to my mind and now into yours.
Eiseley's frozen image of the junkman reminds me of this observation from neuroscientist David Eagleman: "There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time."
i was brought here by the junkman and tbf he was what made this site different to the like of detailingworld.co.uk and cleanyourcar.com where as spending a bit of time today going throught the forum it just didnt seem as good thats not to say that its bad its still **** hot just not as if that makes sense but oh well 589ccfa754
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