Sunday, January 14, 2018

From a different perspective

Experiences from your past are often retold differently than you remember by everyone else who was in on it with you. It seems that everybody involved has a different perspective on what actually happened.

Like the time my buddy Robby and I took my baby sister Melinda for a ride up Paris Mountain to see The Devils Mansion. Robby and I were about 16 at the time and Melinda would have been 8. Melinda heard Robby and I talking about a local rumor that claimed a group of devil worshipers lived up on the mountain, and she had maybe but most likely hadn't asked us to go and try to find this mansion.

So out of the goodness of my heart I headed up the mountain, simply to fulfill my baby sister's request to find this mansion. And after searching for a while we came upon a big iron gate that was standing open but had a "No Trespassing" sign hanging on it, there was a big circle drive in front of a large house. A quick drive around the circle driveway isn't really trespassing if you don't stop...Right?

With Melinda screaming and crying I drove past the gate, and was welcomed by a group of Doberman Pinschers who were literally jumping against my car, barking loudly and biting my tires, yes they were seriously biting the tires. As I made the circle and was heading back to the road a set of headlights appeared behind me,  there was suddenly a long haired scraggly looking guy standing at the gate holding his hand up for me to stop, I didn't.

automobile headlights shining in the dark of night
I made a right hand turn and headed down the mountain, with that set of headlights right on my bumper. Melinda was screaming, and with Robby sitting in the backseat I recall seeing the back of his head silhouetted in my rear-view mirror, as he was looking into the headlights of the car that was chasing us. I pushed the gas pedal to the floor, weaving in and out of the curves as fast as my car would go, I out ran and finally lost that car by the time I reached the bottom of the mountain.

To my surprise at the bottom of the hill sat the car that had been chasing me, and a group of men standing next to it with the long haired scraggly guy shaking his finger at me and pointing back up the mountain.

There are three different takes on this story:

My take is; I remember taking my little sister for a ride and while showing her a scary place that she wanted to see, someone started chasing us, I did the best driving of my life coming down that mountain, good enough to impress any NASCAR crew chief, and I safely got us out of a bad situation. But seeing long haired scraggly guy at the bottom of the hill was freaky.

My buddy Robby has said; We took Melinda up Paris Mountain to scare her, and Jimmy got us into a mess looking for the Devils Mansion, he was all over the place coming down the mountain, it's a wonder he didn't kill us all, I thought he had lost them but those guys waiting on us at the bottom about scared me to death, that was freaky.

Melinda actually said; That was freaky! I didn't even want to go there, those dogs were scary...Jimmy was mean to me.

She did finish up her comment on the original story with... Oh by the way you wasn't mean to me, you just did mean things to me but you are the best.

See she said that I am the best...but we have three different takes on the same story, the only thing we agreed on was that it was freaky.

I have noticed that every time I talk with my siblings about things we did when we were younger that no one remembers it the same, there are four of us and there are always four different interpretations on every situation, but I am the oldest so that means mine is the most accurate... Right?

Is there a story that you remember one way, but others involved remember differently?

47 comments:

  1. We each have our own slants as to how things happened. That's what makes it fun.

    Have a fabulous day, Jimmy. ☺

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Very true Sandee, and listening to how others view experiences that I went through is always interesting to me.

      Delete
  2. Okay....there HAS to be more to the story...did you have to stop for the freaky guys at the bottom of the mountain? Who were they? What did they want? Good grief you can't leave it there.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Delores to tell you the truth I never even offered to stop and drove back to town as fast as I could, I have been over Paris Mountain since then but don't think I could ever find that house again if I wanted to. Sorry but that is where it all ends with me scurrying home.

      Delete
  3. They've had a few movies and TV episodes based on the different way people remember the same event. It's part of the fun of getting together with siblings and life-long friends. My other brother claims, like you do, that his version is right because of age, but I'm the one who wrote about stuff in my diary soon after so I claim the same based on the fact that I don't have to depend on memory when I can read what happened.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jean I am afraid one day my little sister will bring out a diary that will make me question my own memories, but until then I'm sticking with my version ha ha.

      Sharing memories and comparing each others version is always fun for me also, I really like doing that.

      Delete
  4. Great story; it would be perfect for a horror movie. In the story the driver would be forced to stop and drive back to the house. Then who knows what would happen!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. John you are right this could be the perfect beginning to a story such as that, excellent place to turn around and go back to the house...this could be good!

      Delete
  5. Well, Im glad you summed that up. It never fails when Im around my siblings on holidays, the past is always brougth up. We tell stories of things that happend which there is always one that looks confused and says “I dont remember that”. Doohhh!!! My brother just said a few weeks ago how he remembers how I used to be chubby. What? I was always a tiny runt. I was put in lockers at school for fun and I never weighed over 95 pounds until “after” I had a baby. And mom and dad seem to have forgotten anything I did before I was a teenager!
    Lisa.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lisa sometimes our teenage years are so much more exciting than the pre-teen times, maybe that was the reason your parents only recall the teenage years and on.

      Delete
  6. Perspective changes everything doesn't it?
    And, as the youngest in our family (albeit not young) I would dispute that the eldest knows best. He wouldn't though.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Perspective is everything, I'm willing to say without a doubt that my little sister would agree with you 100%, and Cindy too because they are both the youngest like you are.

      Delete
  7. My version of the story would have been accurate because my memory is perfect. I never forget anything. As a matter of fact, I...who's calling, please?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Fran I tend to agree with your perspective because that is how I see it too.

      Delete
  8. That was freaky, Jimmy! Maybe the Dobermans were the devil worshippers.
    I don't know if others remember things differently than I do, by they probably do in some instances. My version is always the right one.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Abby I think those Dobermans were the devil themselves ha ha.

      Like you I know that my story is correct even though my younger siblings try to tell me different.

      Delete
  9. I have had several such experiences with my three siblings, but now I will have to resort to your logic—the oldest is always right (which will go over about as good as referring to Bible passages about respecting your elders did when I was a kid and finally thought I had learned something in Sunday School that was useful—my younger brothers and sister didn’t see it that way).

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. By the way, that’s a neat story and could be used as the foundation for a scary shortstory

      Delete
    2. Sage I do believe that my younger brother and sisters have the same way of thinking as your siblings do, but I will continue to agree that you and I are the correct ones.

      Using this story as a foundation for a scary short story is an excellent idea, I should have done that already. Thank you my friend.

      Delete
  10. No one left to dispute anything, except the baby (61 yr old) but he wasn't in on anything because he was a change your life baby. My memory has so many holes in it now ...
    Bit of a heller weren't you Jimmy?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sharon like you my memory has a lot of holes in it but the stuff I remember has to be accurate.

      "Bit of a heller weren't you Jimmy?" I suppose that all depends on who you ask ha ha.

      Delete
  11. Many, and I am the youngest, so my version is right.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Joe it seems that perspective is shared by many, including my wife.

      Delete
  12. Yes, there IS such a story, and since my mom isn't here to defend herself, MY version will be the official one. I had knee surgery when I was away at college. Had it over Christmas break, and my mom and dad drove out to take me home to their house. A 4.5 hour trip. This was in the days before arthroscopic surgery. I have a 6-inch scar down the side of my leg, and I spent 5 days in the hospital.

    Upon release, the doctor gave me a prescription for pain medicine. We stopped at a pharmacy before starting the drive home. Did I mention that it was 4.5 hours? On winding two-lane blacktop? I had to sit sideways in the back seat of the car, with my leg stretched across the seat. About halfway home, my hospital meds wore off, and I asked for one of my pain pills. My mom handed me the bottle, and I saw that she'd only filled HALF of the prescription!

    When questioned, Mom said, "Well, we don't want you to become a drug addict." WTF? I was high school valedictorian, you know. Never gave them one moment of trouble. I was THE GOOD KID that everyone likes to hate. But Mom made sure I only got half the prescribed pain meds after surgery and a 5-day hospital stay.

    Of course, Mom always said I was imagining things, and that of course she'd gotten the full prescription. But she declared that without looking me in the eye.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Val, I can so see that happening too, this sounds like something Cindy's dad would have done getting only half of the prescription to keep you from being a drug addict, I'm sticking with your version of the story on this one.

      Delete
  13. If you had stayed, you would have learned they probably just worship satin.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Very true Adam, I am sure that whatever was going on was not nearly as dramatic as everyone had it in their minds.

      Delete
  14. Well, I like your version of the event. In my case, it was beneficial being an only child; no-one else to criticism my version of things. I wouldn't recommend it though. I would have preferred a few arguments.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Valerie I tend to believe my version also. As you pointed out one really good thing about siblings is they do keep life interesting, even with the arguments that are inevitable.

      Delete
  15. I have many stories I remember differently. My siblings and I spent several years apart after mum left and took them with her, but I have memories of things from when I was very young and we were all a family. I would mention something and it would be so clear in my head and mum would say it never happened, we never lived there. Dad would tell a completely different version of anything I remembered, so very different that it came across as lying to me. I decided to only believe my own memories after I caught my mum out when she one day casually said in conversation "when we lived in ------ Road, which I remembered and she had previously said, years ago, that we had never lived there. I'm discovering more things as time goes on even though both parents are long dead. It seems most of my life I was lied to. Weird, really, since my childhood was a pretty happy one.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. River I can relate to what you are saying completely, I also have a situation that I remember clearly from my childhood that my mom has no memory of but I remember it like it happened yesterday. Maybe one day she will speak details like your mom did with where you had once lived.

      Delete
  16. With my brother, he is the one to remember experiences that I have NO memory of whatsoever! And we are less than two years apart!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Bijoux you probably have memories that he can't recall also, I find that with my siblings where one of us can't remember something the other three are talking about.

      Delete
  17. This is a great way to remind us how we all have different perspectives on life in general, and each person insists that it's right. (lol) Hugs...RO

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes RO you make an excellent point, life in general depends entirely on a persons perspective and nobody is wrong because it all comes down to how you see it.

      Delete
  18. I am the youngest and my siblings insist that every story I recall is wrong...like the way they used to hide under my bed and just as I was about asleep they would jump out and scare me to death.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Annie, as an older brother I think it is an unwritten rule that we scare the daylights out of the baby of the family as often as possible...I have apologized to my baby sister several times over the last few years. I don't think I ever hid under her bed even though that is something I probably would have done.

      Delete
  19. I believed my cousin was the favourite with all my uncles and aunts. Many years later she said she always felt I was. But she definitely was!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Isn't it funny how that you both thought the same about the other, I am sure that you both were the favorite in different aspects, but loved exactly the same.

      Delete
    2. I've blogged about this now!

      Delete
    3. I just read your post, nicely done my friend.

      Delete
  20. If you ask two people who witnessed an accident, most of the time they will tell two different stories.
    I tell them like I remember them. I guess it's good that cell phones with video cameras didn't come till much later as I'm sure there would be holes in my stories.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Very true Rick, Eyewitness accounts do seem to differ according to perspective, but like you said cell phone video seem to be the rage now with everything being recorded, I too would hate to see a video of my memories, I'm not sure that I want to have to admit my siblings could be right.

      Delete
  21. I've been trying all day to think of an example of different takes on stories by me and the people around me, but we are (disappointingly and boringly) in agreement on stuff. What the heck? We seem to be abnormal!!

    I love your story; typical older brother teasing younger sister (guess how I know that) ...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jenny there is nothing wrong with being abnormally normal, I am sure there are slight differences in the retelling of memories between you and other family members, but like me you remember your version and don't remember anyone else's.

      Thank you Jenny, I have a feeling that I know the answer to how you recognize this as typical older brother teasing little sister...

      Delete
  22. My brother and I have very different memories of how we were treated by our mother as kids, but that's only because I have no memory at all (just can't recall anything from my past really) and he remembers it all like it was yesterday. I think I'd rather live in ignorance than relive it all endlessly.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Joey, I understand what you are saying, some memories you don't really want to re live so with that said I am sure our minds block those.

      Delete

Thanks for stopping by, jump in and tell me what you think, or just say Hi, I really appreciate your comments.