Currently viewing the tag: "death"
[Johnny] Cash was very close to his older brother, Jack. In May 1944, Jack was pulled into a whirling head saw in the mill where he worked and was almost cut in two. He suffered for over a week before he died on May 20, 1944, at age 15. Cash often spoke of the horrible guilt he felt over this incident. According to Cash: The Autobiography, his father was away that morning, but he and his mother, and Jack himself, all had premonitions or a sense of foreboding about that day, causing his mother to urge Jack to skip work and go fishing with his brother. Jack insisted on working, as the family needed the money. On his deathbed, Jack said he had visions of Heaven and angels. Decades later, Cash spoke of looking forward to meeting his brother in Heaven. –Wikipedia
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write the story of brothers who are separated by tragedy.
Journaling Prompt: Write about your relationship with a sibling.
Art Prompt: Brotherly love
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience about Johnny Cash’s tragic history.
Photo Credit: Jack Cash’s Gravestone on Wikimedia
Jesse Woodson James (September 5, 1847 – April 3, 1882) was an American outlaw, guerrilla, gang leader, bank robber, train robber, and murderer from the state of Missouri and the most famous member of the James-Younger Gang. Jesse and his brother Frank James were Confederate guerrillas or bushwhackers during the Civil War. They were accused of participating in atrocities committed against Union soldiers, including the Centralia Massacre. After the war, as members of various gangs of outlaws, they robbed banks, stagecoaches, and trains.
The James brothers were most active as members of their own gang from about 1866 until 1876, when as a result of their attempted robbery of a bank in Northfield, Minnesota, several members of the gang were captured or killed. They continued in crime for several years, recruiting new members, but were under increasing pressure from law enforcement. On April 3, 1882, Jesse James was killed by Robert Ford, a member of his own gang who hoped to collect a reward on James’ head. Already a celebrity when he was alive, James became a legendary figure of the Wild West after his death. –Wikipedia
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write a story about an infamous gang of thieves.
Journaling Prompt: If you could go back in time to meet any famous criminal, who would you want to meet?
Art Prompt: Jesse James
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience about the life of Jesse James.
Photo Credit: Jesse and Frank James on Wikimedia
Trigg was a prosperous grocer with a twin-gabled shop in Middle Row, Stevenage, Hertfordshire, as well as a number of other properties. He was a church warden, an overseer of the parish, and an important man locally. It is said that one night, he and two friends witnessed grave robbers at a local graveyard, and they vowed to make sure that this would not happen to them. Trigg stated in his will that his body should be committed for a minimum of 30 years to “the West end of my Hovel to be decently laid there upon a floor erected by my Executor, upon the purlin for the same purpose, nothing doubting but that at the general Resurrection, I shall receive the same again by the mighty power of God.” According to Gentleman’s Magazine of 5 Feb 1751, Trigg’s will stated that he supposed that he would return to life after 30 years and then his estate would revert to him, and that he ordered that the barn be locked with the key inside his coffin so that he could let himself out. Shortly before he died, Trigg had negotiated with the parish authorities to rent his barn as the town’s workhouse…
Trigg died in Letchworth, Hertfordshire on 6 October 1724 before renovations could be carried out on his barn… Therefore, his remains were placed in a lead-lined coffin of oak and pine and hoisted into the rafters of the barn behind the shop, about 10 feet (3.0 m) above the ground. –Wikipedia
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write the story of an unusual will provision.
Journaling Prompt: What do you want done with your body after you die?
Art Prompt: Grave robbers
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience the strange story of Henry Trigg’s coffin.
Photo Credit: Henry Trigg’s coffin on Wikimedia
People who weren’t there like to say that my mother died at home surrounded by loving family. This is technically true, though it was just my brother and me and he was looking at Facebook and I was reading a profile of Hillary Clinton in the December 2009 issue of Vogue. –All about my mother: ‘It’s amazing what the living expect of the dying’-Meghan Daum
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write a story about a family dealing with someone who is slowly dying at home.
Journaling Prompt: Write about an experience you had with someone who was dying.
Art Prompt: Dying at home
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience about hospice services.
Photo Credit: Lance on Flickr
And death was a soft thing, soft and black, cool and sweet and gracious. He slipped into it as a swimmer slips into the surf and it closed over him and held him and he felt the pulse and beat of it and knew the vastness and sureness of it. –Time and Again by Clifford D. Simak
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write a story about a character and what happens after he/she dies.
Journaling Prompt: What do you believe the process of death will be like?
Art Prompt: Death
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience about near death experiences.
Photo Credit: Design_Ex on Flickr
Historically, plague doctors were traveling physicians who went from place to place, treating the epidemics that would infect entire towns and cities. They came to be associated with the eerie beak mask that many of them wore to keep themselves from catching the very sicknesses they were treating. The masks would be filled with aromatic items that, according to the belief of the time, kept the doctors from inhaling infectious vapors. –Atlas Obscura
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write a story that includes an epidemic and a plague doctor.
Journaling Prompt: What is the scariest medical experience you’ve had?
Art Prompt: Epidemic
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience about medical practices during the plague.
Photo Credit: Plague doctor Wellcome L0025222.jpg on Wikimedia
I can’t. I can’t go on. It goes so fast. We don’t have time to look at one another. I didn’t realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed. Take me back — up the hill — to my grave. But first: Wait! One more look. Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by Grover’s Corners…Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking…and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new ironed dresses and hot baths…and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you. …Do human beings ever realize life while they live it? — Every, every minute? …I’m ready to go back…I should have listened to you. That’s all human beings are! Just blind people. –Our Town by Thornton Wilder
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write the story of someone who has just died.
Journaling Prompt: What do you believe happens after you die?
Art Prompt: Too Wonderful
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience about the wonder of everyday life.
Photo Credit: Tracy Booth on Flickr
Sometimes the swirling images, the indescribable prisms of lights, morph into people. But often just one. Usually this person seems to be standing nearby, often in the corner of this very room, watching me. I’ve even gone as far as to open my eyes to catch whoever is in the room with me, but no one is there. I’ve made it all up. My dying mind has made it all up. Sometimes I call out to Numi, expecting to find my friend in the room with me, but he’s not there. I’m all alone with my scattered, incoherent thoughts. Dying is the ultimate hallucinogen. The final hallucinogen. –Silent Echo by J. R. Rain
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write a story from the point of view of a dying person.
Journaling Prompt: Write about the strangest dream you’ve ever had.
Art Prompt: Hallucination
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience about the science of dreams and hallucinations.
Photo Credit: Scott Griggs on Flickr
Soon after we learned that our mother was dead, my brother and I went to a bar. –Son of a Gun by Justin St. Germain
Fiction Writing Prompt: Use the first line of the week as the starting point or inspiration for a scene, story, poem, or haiku.
Journaling Prompt: Write about how you deal with a death in your family.
Art Prompt: Irish Wake
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience about world traditions surrounding the death of a loved one.
Photo Credit: Thomas Hawk on Flickr
To frame for you what she was, the height and width and depth of her, is not possible though she was young. To say what she meant is not possible. To say how profoundly her living and leaving life touched and changed the lives of those around her, those who loved her, is not possible. She was loved and now she’s missed. The loving was great; the missing is terrible. That may not make sense either. But it’s all there is. –The Concrete Maze by Steven Torres
Fiction Writing Prompt: Write the story of someone who died too young.
Journaling Prompt: Write about someone you lost too soon.
Art Prompt: Gravestone
Non-Fiction / Speechwriting Prompt: Tell your audience a story about someone you loved who died too soon.
Photo Credit: Spencer Means on Flickr
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