Bad Moon Rising - 42 Years Later
Feb 4, 2012 23:14:17 GMT -6
Post by Moderator on Feb 4, 2012 23:14:17 GMT -6
Bad Moon Rising - 42 Years Later
Written by Jeff Seeber
I just listened to "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival. It's been my theme song for the past 42 years. It's the last song I heard while my buddies and I were sitting around shooting the breeze and listening to a 9-volt transistor radio the night of February 4, 1970 ... about 12 hours before everything changed. I didn't know everything would change the next morning and I certainly didn't know everything would stay changed forever.
I didn't know that two of the guys playing poker with me that night would save my life early the next morning by performing CPR on me. I was still indestructible on the night of February 4, 1970 ... or at least I thought I was. By nightfall of February 5, I would know better. I didn't know that I was about to spend nearly 7 months in Navy hospitals and then another year in VA hospitals recuperating.
I didn't know what a coma was like, but I would learn. I didn't know what respiratory arrest was like, but I would learn, more than once. I didn't know what it was like to have a buddy die in his bed a few feet away from mine, but I would learn that, too. I didn't know I would have to learn how to breathe again, how to eat again, how to walk again. I didn't know how many lives nurses and doctors saved until they saved mine.
I didn't know while we were sitting there that the next day I would begin to learn what failure felt like ... the failure of not finishing what I had started. I would learn why every guy I have known who has been wounded or injured wants nothing more than to return to his unit so he can finish what he started ... to finish the mission. And when it becomes obvious that he can't, he spends the rest of his life trying other things that might somehow make-up for bailing out on his buddies. Whether it makes any sense or not is beside the point.
Sometime on February 5, 1970 I would begin to learn what it was like to be completely and utterly dependable on others. I would learn what's it like to sit in the dark on too many nights to count, chain-smoking cigarettes while deciding what the best way would be to take my own life and end the misery. And then, years later, I would learn what's it like to have someone enter my life who gave me the reason to keep on going.
I didn't know it the night of February 4, 1970, but everything that started happening the next morning would somehow come in handy when I eventually started to meet families of the Fallen, including family members of my buddies that didn’t make it home alive. Everything that started happening the next morning would come in handy when I eventually started meeting other Veterans of the Vietnam War, and then survivors of Beirut, and then men and women who served in the Gulf War and Bosnia and then the Global War On Terror.
I didn't know it the night of February 4, 1970, but everything that started happening the next morning would somehow come in handy when I eventually started to meet wounded and injured warriors, some of them facing total disability and having to depend on others for the rest of their lives. I didn't know that night that it would work out this way, but the severely wounded men and women I've met the last 10 years can see that I'm still here four decades later and it lets them know that they can make it that long, too.
Military service is a roll of the dice, especially during war. Some guys roll 7s. Some crap out. Some make it through without a scratch. Some get hurt. Some die. It's just a matter of inches sometimes. It's just a matter of leaning one way or the other at just the right time ... or just the wrong time. I don’t know if I was lucky or cursed. Everyone that survives serving during war wonders the same thing. In any event, here I am ... still. I have a lot of company. I have a lot of friends, old and young, wounded and not, who wore the uniform ... who know what it's like to feel a bad moon rising.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I see the bad moon arising
I see trouble on the way
I see earthquakes and lightning
I see bad times today
Don't go around tonight
Well, it's bound to take your life
There's a bad moon on the rise
I hear hurricanes a-blowing
I know the end is coming soon
I fear rivers overflowing
I hear the voice of rage and ruin
Don't go around tonight
Well, it's bound to take your life
There's a bad moon on the rise
Hope you got your things together
Hope you are quite prepared to die
Looks like we're in for nasty weather
One eye is taken for an eye
Don't go around tonight
Well, it's bound to take your life
There's a bad moon on the rise
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bad Moon Rising
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Written by Eddie Miller, Dub Williams and Robert Yount
Written by Jeff Seeber
I just listened to "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival. It's been my theme song for the past 42 years. It's the last song I heard while my buddies and I were sitting around shooting the breeze and listening to a 9-volt transistor radio the night of February 4, 1970 ... about 12 hours before everything changed. I didn't know everything would change the next morning and I certainly didn't know everything would stay changed forever.
I didn't know that two of the guys playing poker with me that night would save my life early the next morning by performing CPR on me. I was still indestructible on the night of February 4, 1970 ... or at least I thought I was. By nightfall of February 5, I would know better. I didn't know that I was about to spend nearly 7 months in Navy hospitals and then another year in VA hospitals recuperating.
I didn't know what a coma was like, but I would learn. I didn't know what respiratory arrest was like, but I would learn, more than once. I didn't know what it was like to have a buddy die in his bed a few feet away from mine, but I would learn that, too. I didn't know I would have to learn how to breathe again, how to eat again, how to walk again. I didn't know how many lives nurses and doctors saved until they saved mine.
I didn't know while we were sitting there that the next day I would begin to learn what failure felt like ... the failure of not finishing what I had started. I would learn why every guy I have known who has been wounded or injured wants nothing more than to return to his unit so he can finish what he started ... to finish the mission. And when it becomes obvious that he can't, he spends the rest of his life trying other things that might somehow make-up for bailing out on his buddies. Whether it makes any sense or not is beside the point.
Sometime on February 5, 1970 I would begin to learn what it was like to be completely and utterly dependable on others. I would learn what's it like to sit in the dark on too many nights to count, chain-smoking cigarettes while deciding what the best way would be to take my own life and end the misery. And then, years later, I would learn what's it like to have someone enter my life who gave me the reason to keep on going.
I didn't know it the night of February 4, 1970, but everything that started happening the next morning would somehow come in handy when I eventually started to meet families of the Fallen, including family members of my buddies that didn’t make it home alive. Everything that started happening the next morning would come in handy when I eventually started meeting other Veterans of the Vietnam War, and then survivors of Beirut, and then men and women who served in the Gulf War and Bosnia and then the Global War On Terror.
I didn't know it the night of February 4, 1970, but everything that started happening the next morning would somehow come in handy when I eventually started to meet wounded and injured warriors, some of them facing total disability and having to depend on others for the rest of their lives. I didn't know that night that it would work out this way, but the severely wounded men and women I've met the last 10 years can see that I'm still here four decades later and it lets them know that they can make it that long, too.
Military service is a roll of the dice, especially during war. Some guys roll 7s. Some crap out. Some make it through without a scratch. Some get hurt. Some die. It's just a matter of inches sometimes. It's just a matter of leaning one way or the other at just the right time ... or just the wrong time. I don’t know if I was lucky or cursed. Everyone that survives serving during war wonders the same thing. In any event, here I am ... still. I have a lot of company. I have a lot of friends, old and young, wounded and not, who wore the uniform ... who know what it's like to feel a bad moon rising.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I see the bad moon arising
I see trouble on the way
I see earthquakes and lightning
I see bad times today
Don't go around tonight
Well, it's bound to take your life
There's a bad moon on the rise
I hear hurricanes a-blowing
I know the end is coming soon
I fear rivers overflowing
I hear the voice of rage and ruin
Don't go around tonight
Well, it's bound to take your life
There's a bad moon on the rise
Hope you got your things together
Hope you are quite prepared to die
Looks like we're in for nasty weather
One eye is taken for an eye
Don't go around tonight
Well, it's bound to take your life
There's a bad moon on the rise
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bad Moon Rising
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Written by Eddie Miller, Dub Williams and Robert Yount