Another re-read from childhood, but it's fun to reminisce! And, in this time of great madness, it's encouraging to read of people who have survived some seemingly unsurvivable trauma, some of them rather unscathed save for the memories of their brush with death. This is a short but diverse collection of accounts, old and new, of people who made it out alive, as a result of their skill, superhuman resilience, or just luck.
If there are a thousand ways to die, this book demonstrates that there are a thousand and ONE ways to cheat death... at least in the short term. It's divided into various categories, which, after you read them, kind of make you never want to leave your house, as death in the (statistically) world's most dangerous place isn't included, I suppose, unless you count the tornado. From animal attacks (Law of the Jungle) to death at sea (Death from the Depths) to death from above (Death in the Skies), and more, this short volume highlights some well- and not-so-well known cases which have us marveling that anyone could make it out alive. It's a quick read, but worth it just to keep things in perspective. At the very least, you will probably feel inspired, somewhat grateful, and incredibly lucky.
Not in this book (though it certainly should be!), but one of the freakiest stories I've ever heard was told to me when I was in Ireland. Apparently, this shocking event occurred during the Potato Famine, which killed an estimated one million people in Ireland between 1845 and 1849, and resulted in the immigration of a million more, by way of the "coffin ships," due to the astoundingly high rate of death aboard ship on the Atlantic crossing, usually to the East Coast of America. The story I heard was as follows: a family lost a little girl, about six years old, during the famine. She had died, apparently, from disease, which claimed many lives during this tragic period also. Because there were so many deaths, bodies were usually hastily buried the same day, without a wake or the typical formalities. A row of graves was simply dug and left open until they (soon) received their occupants. Because the little girl's family was so poor, a coffin had been donated by the local villagers, so they could give their child a proper burial, but when the family went to lay her out, they discovered that the coffin was far too small, as it had been intended for a much younger child. Relatives had no choice: they reportedly CUT THE TENDONS behind her knees, and twisted and folded her little legs back behind her, to fit this poor child in the coffin which had been donated for her burial.
The little girl was buried in the cemetery of the small village church, with little fanfare. Later that afternoon, the resident priest was presiding over yet another burial in this small village cemetery, when several of the attendees kept looking around at each other. They later said that they kept hearing what sounded like a kitten mewling, but no one could see where the kitten was or where the sound was coming from. The service ended, and the attendees were on their way to leave, when the priest and some of the others heard the sound again, louder this time. They attempted to find the source of it, and to their horror, discovered it.
It was coming from under the ground.
The adjacent fresh grave was quickly dug up, and when the coffin was opened, the six-year-old little girl sat up. She had been buried alive. She had not died, but had fallen into a coma due to fever and sickness, and had awoken, in pitch blackness, in a cramped, damp, cold wooden box, in unimaginable pain and terror, where she had cried out until she was rescued. I don't know what happened after she was found, except that she lived to old age. Due to her leg injuries, however, because of her disarticulated knee joints and cut tendons, she had to wear metal leg braces and walk with crutches for the rest of her life. The person who told me the story said that he was shown an old, black-and-white framed photograph of her, an elderly widow woman, surrounded by twelve or fourteen of her children (I forget exactly how many he said she had), which was kept on a fireplace mantle in a local pub, so I believe that the story was true.
If there are a thousand ways to die, this book demonstrates that there are a thousand and ONE ways to cheat death... at least in the short term. It's divided into various categories, which, after you read them, kind of make you never want to leave your house, as death in the (statistically) world's most dangerous place isn't included, I suppose, unless you count the tornado. From animal attacks (Law of the Jungle) to death at sea (Death from the Depths) to death from above (Death in the Skies), and more, this short volume highlights some well- and not-so-well known cases which have us marveling that anyone could make it out alive. It's a quick read, but worth it just to keep things in perspective. At the very least, you will probably feel inspired, somewhat grateful, and incredibly lucky.
Not in this book (though it certainly should be!), but one of the freakiest stories I've ever heard was told to me when I was in Ireland. Apparently, this shocking event occurred during the Potato Famine, which killed an estimated one million people in Ireland between 1845 and 1849, and resulted in the immigration of a million more, by way of the "coffin ships," due to the astoundingly high rate of death aboard ship on the Atlantic crossing, usually to the East Coast of America. The story I heard was as follows: a family lost a little girl, about six years old, during the famine. She had died, apparently, from disease, which claimed many lives during this tragic period also. Because there were so many deaths, bodies were usually hastily buried the same day, without a wake or the typical formalities. A row of graves was simply dug and left open until they (soon) received their occupants. Because the little girl's family was so poor, a coffin had been donated by the local villagers, so they could give their child a proper burial, but when the family went to lay her out, they discovered that the coffin was far too small, as it had been intended for a much younger child. Relatives had no choice: they reportedly CUT THE TENDONS behind her knees, and twisted and folded her little legs back behind her, to fit this poor child in the coffin which had been donated for her burial.
The little girl was buried in the cemetery of the small village church, with little fanfare. Later that afternoon, the resident priest was presiding over yet another burial in this small village cemetery, when several of the attendees kept looking around at each other. They later said that they kept hearing what sounded like a kitten mewling, but no one could see where the kitten was or where the sound was coming from. The service ended, and the attendees were on their way to leave, when the priest and some of the others heard the sound again, louder this time. They attempted to find the source of it, and to their horror, discovered it.
It was coming from under the ground.
The adjacent fresh grave was quickly dug up, and when the coffin was opened, the six-year-old little girl sat up. She had been buried alive. She had not died, but had fallen into a coma due to fever and sickness, and had awoken, in pitch blackness, in a cramped, damp, cold wooden box, in unimaginable pain and terror, where she had cried out until she was rescued. I don't know what happened after she was found, except that she lived to old age. Due to her leg injuries, however, because of her disarticulated knee joints and cut tendons, she had to wear metal leg braces and walk with crutches for the rest of her life. The person who told me the story said that he was shown an old, black-and-white framed photograph of her, an elderly widow woman, surrounded by twelve or fourteen of her children (I forget exactly how many he said she had), which was kept on a fireplace mantle in a local pub, so I believe that the story was true.
