But looking through the obits yesterday, I realize quite a bunch of people were summoned upwards on Rapture Day. But it could quite possibly be that their numbers were up prior to the prophecy anyway. It may have already been in the cards.
When 6 p.m. came and went on Saturday, I didn't notice anything different, except that Shackleford won the Preakness about a half hour later. Yes, he was the long shot. But beyond that, nothing visible. There was no shaking, no ominous sky, no voice from above, no floating souls or ethereal music. I have to admit, I was disappointed. I figured there would be some pageantry, even if the event-to-end-all-events didn't quite fully manifest.
I was raised in a religion where certain pivotal events came along with faith-enhancing visuals: back-lit angel visitations, deafening floods, blackened skies with streams of heavenly light. No one spared the horses. And I like that in a religion. It adds some Hollywood, a la Cecil B. DeMille, if you will. Who wants to die without some special effects? There has to at least be a light. You know, the big glowing light we're all supposed to walk toward. I just don't know what I will do if there isn't a light. Talk about a let down.
Well, we will never know if those who did happen to pass away on May 21, or any other day for that matter, were transported in red carpet style or not. Guess we'll just have to wait until it's our turn.
Check out my Erie Times-News blog.
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