From steve@starport.COM Thu Aug 4 23:27:54 1994 Path: steve From: steve@starport.COM (Stephen R. Savitzky) Message-ID: Date: 05 Aug 1994 06:27:54 GMT Organization: Grand Central Starport Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Amethyst Rose, August 4, 1990 Distribution: Reply-to: starport!steve@rahul.net Lines: 49 Lines: 49 The light of reality shines dimly on a corner table. Steve and Colleen Savitzky are sitting in a cluttered room lined with books, typing. There is a large flower arrangement on the counter to Steve's right--purple iris and monks-hood, pink roses and carnations, a pink and white stargazer, snapdragons the color of blood. Colleen hates calla lilies. The light flickers; the Mandelbear and Flowercat sit at their table in Callahan's Bar, drinking wine the color of snapdragons. They sit facing the corner, and three X windows. The window on the left shows a beautiful nine-year-old girl with short dark hair, asleep in a hotel room with her grandparents. Katy is three thousand miles away from the cluttered room in California, on her way to Prince Edward Island; she'll be back next Friday. On the right, a two-year-old girl with curly, light brown hair lies sleeping in her bed, head pillowed on a soft brown teddybear almost as big as herself. Emerald is snuggled under a dark blue blanket, clutching a well-loved rabbit; "Ears" was white when he came out of the wash two days ago. The scene in the middle window shimmers, as if seen through a telescope on a warm summer night. Everything in the scene is perfectly still. It shows a grassy clearing in deep forest; the grass glitters slightly; it might be made of peridot, or tourmaline crystals. The trees, too, are of stone; their dark trunks gleam in what might be moonlight. A little to one side in the clearing is a rose-bush. Its dark green leaves appear to be carved of nephrite; obsidian thorns glint dangerously in the half-light. Its single bloom is a delicate purple color, a bud just starting to open, an amethyst rose. The windows darken; the warm night wraps them all in stars. On the table the glasses are empty, and a book lies open to a poem by Yeats--The Stolen Child. Come away, O human child To the waters and the wild With a faery hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping Than you can understand. If she had lived, Amy would have been four years old today. A man with greying hair and a salt-and-pepper beard walks with his wife to the chalk line. "In late July and early August sometimes when people ask me how many children we have, it's hard to answer precisely. We'll be all right, though, really. Thank you for listening." "Amethyst Rose", they say togther, and their glasses shatter in the fireplace, wreathed in violet flames. They walk out hand in hand into the gentle night. From richard.krum@msfc.nasa.gov Sat Aug 6 15:21:57 1994 Path: starport!a2i!ddsw1!news.kei.com!eff!news.umbc.edu!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!news.msfc.nasa.gov!usenet From: richard.krum@msfc.nasa.gov (Da Boss Troll) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Amethyst Rose, August 4, 1990 Date: 5 Aug 1994 14:59:17 GMT Organization: CSC ATD Lines: 53 Message-ID: <31tk45$sje@hammer.msfc.nasa.gov> References: NNTP-Posting-Host: rich-krum.msfc.nasa.gov X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.90.5 In article , steve@starport.COM (Stephen R. Savitzky) says: > >The light of reality shines dimly on a corner table. Steve and Colleen >Savitzky are sitting in a cluttered room lined with books, typing. There is a >large flower arrangement on the counter to Steve's right--purple iris and >monks-hood, pink roses and carnations, a pink and white stargazer, snapdragons >the color of blood. Colleen hates calla lilies. > *** Deletia*** >The scene in the middle window shimmers, as if seen through a telescope on a >warm summer night. Everything in the scene is perfectly still. It shows a >grassy clearing in deep forest; the grass glitters slightly; it might be made >of peridot, or tourmaline crystals. The trees, too, are of stone; their dark >trunks gleam in what might be moonlight. > >A little to one side in the clearing is a rose-bush. Its dark green leaves >appear to be carved of nephrite; obsidian thorns glint dangerously in the >half-light. Its single bloom is a delicate purple color, a bud just starting >to open, an amethyst rose. > >The windows darken; the warm night wraps them all in stars. On the table the >glasses are empty, and a book lies open to a poem by Yeats--The Stolen Child. > > Come away, O human child > To the waters and the wild > With a faery hand in hand, > For the world's more full of weeping > Than you can understand. > >If she had lived, Amy would have been four years old today. > >A man with greying hair and a salt-and-pepper beard walks with his wife to the >chalk line. "In late July and early August sometimes when people ask me how >many children we have, it's hard to answer precisely. We'll be all right, >though, really. Thank you for listening." > >"Amethyst Rose", they say togther, and their glasses shatter in the fireplace, >wreathed in violet flames. They walk out hand in hand into the gentle night. >-- The Troll pauses, his eyes misted with sudden tears. He Hears, and Remembers another Stolen Child. "To Tracy Michelle---" The glass flies, with all the Troll's brute force behind it. <> "We remember, and we listen, and we, too, will be all right," "Peace to you both--I understand completely." --Rich (AKA Da Boss Troll) From tombaker@world.std.com Sat Aug 6 15:22:16 1994 Newsgroups: alt.callahans Path: starport!a2i!ddsw1!news.kei.com!world!tombaker From: tombaker@world.std.com (Tom A Baker) Subject: Re: Amethyst Rose, August 4, 1990 In-Reply-To: steve@starport.COM's message of Fri, 5 Aug 1994 06:27:54 GMT Message-ID: Sender: tombaker@world.std.com (Tom A Baker) Organization: Me, at The World Public Access UNIX, Brookline, MA References: Date: Fri, 5 Aug 1994 16:16:44 GMT Lines: 85 In article steve@starport.COM (Stephen R. Savitzky) writes: SS> The light of reality shines dimly on a corner table. Steve and Colleen SS> Savitzky are sitting in a cluttered room lined with books, typing. There is a SS> large flower arrangement on the counter to Steve's right--purple iris and SS> monks-hood, pink roses and carnations, a pink and white stargazer, snapdragons SS> the color of blood. Colleen hates calla lilies. SS> The light flickers; the Mandelbear and Flowercat sit at their table in SS> Callahan's Bar, drinking wine the color of snapdragons. They sit facing the SS> corner, and three X windows. SS> The window on the left shows a beautiful nine-year-old girl with short dark SS> hair, asleep in a hotel room with her grandparents. Katy is three thousand SS> miles away from the cluttered room in California, on her way to Prince Edward SS> Island; she'll be back next Friday. SS> On the right, a two-year-old girl with curly, light brown hair lies sleeping SS> in her bed, head pillowed on a soft brown teddybear almost as big as herself. SS> Emerald is snuggled under a dark blue blanket, clutching a well-loved rabbit; SS> "Ears" was white when he came out of the wash two days ago. SS> The scene in the middle window shimmers, as if seen through a telescope on a SS> warm summer night. Everything in the scene is perfectly still. It shows a SS> grassy clearing in deep forest; the grass glitters slightly; it might be made SS> of peridot, or tourmaline crystals. The trees, too, are of stone; their dark SS> trunks gleam in what might be moonlight. SS> A little to one side in the clearing is a rose-bush. Its dark green leaves SS> appear to be carved of nephrite; obsidian thorns glint dangerously in the SS> half-light. Its single bloom is a delicate purple color, a bud just starting SS> to open, an amethyst rose. SS> The windows darken; the warm night wraps them all in stars. On the table the SS> glasses are empty, and a book lies open to a poem by Yeats--The Stolen Child. SS> Come away, O human child SS> To the waters and the wild SS> With a faery hand in hand, SS> For the world's more full of weeping SS> Than you can understand. SS> If she had lived, Amy would have been four years old today. SS> A man with greying hair and a salt-and-pepper beard walks with his wife to the SS> chalk line. "In late July and early August sometimes when people ask me how SS> many children we have, it's hard to answer precisely. We'll be all right, SS> though, really. Thank you for listening." SS> "Amethyst Rose", they say togther, and their glasses shatter in the fireplace, SS> wreathed in violet flames. They walk out hand in hand into the gentle night. And ... zeinejohnsonds%dfyc@dfmail.usafa.af.mil (Satin ) adds: satin- Tears rolling down her face, Satin throws her glass fiercely into the satin- fireplace satin- satin- "Amethyst Rose and my son" satin- satin- << And ... Troll adds: >The Troll pauses, his eyes misted with sudden tears. He Hears, and Remembers >another Stolen Child. > >"To Tracy Michelle---" The glass flies, with all the Troll's brute force behind it. > ><> > >"We remember, and we listen, and we, too, will be all right," > >"Peace to you both--I understand completely." And ... a voice continues: "Them all, and Francis and Imogen" A flagon of 100 proof slivovitz crashes and the flames roar momentarily <> BAKER I am what I am. From Lisa_Frank@sil.org Sat Aug 6 15:26:01 1994 Path: starport!a2i!ddsw1!panix!zip.eecs.umich.edu!newsxfer.itd.umich.edu!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!ceylon!news2.near.net!das-news.harvard.edu!casaba.srv.cs.cmu.edu!spok From: Lisa_Frank@sil.org Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: clannad and amethyst rose Date: Fri, 05 Aug 1994 16:39 -0500 (EST) Organization: Grapevine's Posting Service Lines: 26 Message-ID: <01HFK17V2KLA0000MV@SIL.ORG> NNTP-Posting-Host: f.gp.cs.cmu.edu Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7BIT Originator: spok@F.GP.CS.CMU.EDU charis has set down her pogo book for a moment to watch the bagpipers, and notices mike rooting around looking for a clannad album. "wait a minute, mike!' she cries...'i've got anam in the car, will that do?' without waiting for an answer, she jumps up, runs out the door and returns shortly (at 5'4", she can't very easily return any other way, of course) with a copy of the album. 'sorry, it's just a copy...i don't have a cd player in the car. good album, though!' she sits back down on the couch and is about to return to perusing pogo, when she notices the mandelbear & flowercat's x-windows. she watches quietly for a while, and then, after trying in vain to hold back the tears, gets up and gives the two a hug. without saying a word she returns to the couch once more, and again is about to return to pogo, but suddenly remembers her brand new Waterboys CD that she got...oh, four hours ago or so. she manages to get Radio Free Colorado to agree to play it. when it gets to the last song, she realizes the song is called 'The Stolen Child', and yes, the words are by W.B.Yeats. (ed. note--i actually haven't listened to it yet, but i'm guessing this is the poem that the mandelbear quoted) after the end of the cd she decides she's too tired to read any pogo right now anyway, so she gets up, slips over to where the bunyip is sitting in a very comfortable chair, and snuggles down in his lap for a nap. From zeinejohnsonds%dfyc@dfmail.usafa.af.mil Sat Aug 6 16:04:21 1994 Path: starport!a2i!sgiblab!pacbell.com!well!barrnet.net!agate!howland.reston.ans.net!math.ohio-state.edu!magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu!csn!news.usafa.af.mil!dfyc32.usafa.af.mil!zeinejohnsonds%dfyc From: zeinejohnsonds%dfyc@dfmail.usafa.af.mil (Satin ) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Amethyst Rose, August 4, 1990 Date: Fri, 5 Aug 1994 14:29:07 GMT Organization: United States Air Force Academy Lines: 35 Message-ID: References: NNTP-Posting-Host: 128.236.6.32 In article steve@starport.COM (Stephen R. Savitzky) writes: >The light flickers; the Mandelbear and Flowercat sit at their table in >Callahan's Bar, drinking wine the color of snapdragons. They sit facing the >corner, and three X windows. [...] > Come away, O human child > To the waters and the wild > With a faery hand in hand, > For the world's more full of weeping > Than you can understand. >If she had lived, Amy would have been four years old today. >A man with greying hair and a salt-and-pepper beard walks with his wife to the >chalk line. "In late July and early August sometimes when people ask me how >many children we have, it's hard to answer precisely. We'll be all right, >though, really. Thank you for listening." >"Amethyst Rose", they say togther, and their glasses shatter in the fireplace, >wreathed in violet flames. They walk out hand in hand into the gentle night. >-- Tears rolling down her face, Satin throws her glass fiercely into the fireplace "Amethyst Rose and my son" << ============================================================================= "Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo." H. G. Wells ============================================================================= From cathy@iagu.itd.adelaide.edu Tue Aug 9 21:51:02 1994 Path: starport!a2i!ddsw1!news.kei.com!eff!news.umbc.edu!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!howland.reston.ans.net!agate!msuinfo!harbinger.cc.monash.edu.au!bunyip.cc.uq.oz.au!munnari.oz.au!foxhound.dsto.gov.au!fang.dsto.gov.au!yoyo.aarnet.edu.au!news.adelaide.edu.au!iagu.itd.adelaide.edu!cathy From: cathy@iagu.itd.adelaide.edu (Cathy Jenkins) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Amethyst Rose, August 4, 1990 Date: 8 Aug 1994 07:27:45 GMT Organization: University of Adelaide, South Australia Lines: 14 Message-ID: <324mph$go3@quandong.itd.adelaide.edu.au> References: NNTP-Posting-Host: iagu.itd.adelaide.edu In article , Stephen R. Savitzky wrote: >"Amethyst Rose", they say togther, and their glasses shatter in the fireplace, >wreathed in violet flames. They walk out hand in hand into the gentle night. *sigh* *****CRASH****** -- Cathy. ------<------<@ From booky@leland.stanford.edu Wed Aug 10 07:50:23 1994 Path: starport!a2i!ddsw1!news.kei.com!eff!news.duke.edu!news-feed-1.peachnet.edu!gatech!howland.reston.ans.net!agate!headwall.Stanford.EDU!louisbookbinder.stanford.edu!user From: booky@leland.stanford.edu (Louis Bookbinder) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Cheers to all! Toast from a new patron. Date: Tue, 09 Aug 1994 16:56:20 -0700 Organization: DCN, BISA, Stanford University Lines: 32 Message-ID: References: NNTP-Posting-Host: louisbookbinder.stanford.edu In article , davidson.72@osu.edu (Brian J Davidson) wrote: > (I step up to a line before the large, parobolic-shaped fireplace, raise my > Irish coffee high into the air, and make the following toast:) > days of my life. Capping it all was her asking me to marry her. > This toast I make to her: > "I do, and ever will, my love." > Very soon, she will be moving from Lexington to Columbus to live with me. > And to all the stars I wished upon in hopes that this day would come, I > give my thanks. > Here is to you all. May you find the love you need. Please don't let > anything or anyone keep you from expressing it. Thank you all. > -- > Brian J. Davidson > davidson.72@osu.edu Klankety The tin man throws a virtual beerstein in the fireplace *(virtual)KRASH* "I am glad you found happiness. Of course, love comes with no guarrantees. But do not let the prejudices of others keep you from love. It is too precious a thing in this world to reject for spurious reasons. "I hope you share some of the good times that follow. And bring her in, sometime. And if things do not work as expected, share that, too. That is what this place is all about." Nick Chopper -ax not...... From ambrosia@dorsai.org Thu Aug 4 23:44:31 1994 Newsgroups: alt.pub.coffeehouse.amethyst Path: starport!a2i!sgiblab!sgigate.sgi.com!olivea!charnel.ecst.csuchico.edu!nic-nac.CSU.net!usc!howland.reston.ans.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!swiss.ans.net!nntp.sunbelt.net!udel!news.sprintlink.net!news.dorsai.org!ambrosia From: ambrosia@dorsai.org (CandaceB) Subject: Amethyst Message-ID: Organization: The Dorsai Embassy, New York, NY X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL2] Date: Fri, 29 Jul 1994 08:17:51 GMT Lines: 7 Humm...this might be a weird question, but where did the amethyst part of this forum's name come from? You see, my boyfriend was friends witha person who used the handle amethyst, and he is looking for her.. :) Thanks Ambrosia@dorsai.dorsai.org From steve@starport.COM Thu Aug 4 23:44:40 1994 Newsgroups: alt.pub.coffeehouse.amethyst Path: starport!steve From: steve@starport.COM (Stephen R. Savitzky) Subject: Re: Amethyst Message-ID: Sender: steve@starport.com (Stephen R. Savitzky) Organization: Grand Central Starport In-Reply-To: ambrosia@dorsai.org's message of Fri, 29 Jul 1994 08:17:51 GMT Date: Sun, 31 Jul 1994 05:11:37 GMT References: Lines: 14 In article ambrosia@dorsai.org (CandaceB) writes: Humm...this might be a weird question, but where did the amethyst part of this forum's name come from? You see, my boyfriend was friends witha person who used the handle amethyst, and he is looking for her.. "Sorry to tell you that I don't think there's a connection", Steve Savitzky answers. "Actually I can't be positive about the full details, but one of the founders of this place (Aahz) asked me and my wife Colleen for permission to use the name--our daughter Amethyst Rose was stillborn on August 4, 1990. "Guess I should say our _middle_ daughter;" he adds, "the others are 9 and 2, and doing pretty well, all things considered." -- \ --Steve Savitzky-- \ 343 Leigh Ave \ REAL HACKERS USE AN AXE! \ steve@crc.ricoh.COM \ San Jose, CA 95128 \ Free Cyberia! \ w: 415-496-5710 \ h:408-294-6492 \ \_________________________________________________________________________ From steve@starport.COM Fri Aug 5 00:26:13 1994 Path: steve From: steve@starport.COM (Stephen R. Savitzky) Message-ID: Date: 05 Aug 1994 07:26:13 GMT Organization: Grand Central Starport Newsgroups: alt.pub.coffeehouse.amethyst Subject: Amethyst Rose, August 4, 1990 Distribution: Reply-to: starport!steve@rahul.net Lines: 22 Lines: 22 Steve Savitzky is sitting alone at a table, sipping a cafe mocha royale and reading a well-thumbed copy of the collected poems of W. B. Yeats. He puts it down on the table. You sense that he wants to talk. "Ambrosia was asking, about a week ago, about the name of this place," he says to nobody in particular. "Four years ago today, our daughter Amethyst Rose was stillborn. She would have been our second child. "Every year since then I've posted a wistful little memorial of some sort in alt.callahans; you can go read this year's, if you like. It's not as though I'm still grieving, exactly. We only ever wanted two kids, and the ones we have are healthy, happy, and driving us nuts. But it's good to remember. "Little Emerald was two last March; is she our second child or our third? It's hard to say, on a night like this. She's asleep now. Katy, our oldest, is off on a two-week excursion with my parents. Even late at night when she's usually asleep the house feels a little emptier, just knowing she's not here. That's sort of what I feel about Amy. "It's odd. All during the end of July I *look forward* to writing that memorial post. I enjoy doing it. Maybe it's just a good excuse for writing a prose poem, which is something I guess I don't do often enough. Well, it's late, and I'm getting sleepy. Good night, all."