The Side Effects of Endorphins

If you could go back and witness any hysterical event, which one would you pick?

It was, for Heidi, a perfect type of fall morning. It was the first day where it rained, and it rained with grit and determination, and it felt nourishing. It hinted at a new beginning. The trees needed it, the grass as well. Earth yearned for it, and she needed it more than most. Her husband was getting on her nerves, and she yearned for a break. She not only needed a respite from him. She needed a break from life. Her life had become trite, banal, and sadly predictable. That is how the human mind works. When you do the same thing repeatedly there are truly little memories to be had. It merely becomes a ritual. Some people like it that way but Heidi was not that type of person.

It amazed her that she had stayed in this town for so long. There was nothing keeping her here except for the tiny little man to which she was married. It has been 20 years, and he controlled everything, that is everything except the money. They never managed it, and money is something that needs managing. He was a verbally, abusing son of a bitch and she liked him less and less with every passing day. There was no tension in the house, there was not really anything in the house other than the underlying fear that violence could break out.

What made this town so spectacular was how unspectacular it was. We used to have our factory outlets and now we do not have them. We used to have our corner bars, and they are now disappearing. We used to make pretzels here as the water was quite perfect. We still have our lightning bugs, thunderstorms, and mushroom farms and that is something. Then there is Stoneman Willy who at times is the pride and joy of Reading, Pa. Today is the day they put Stoneman Willy to rest. Willy sat in this funeral home for decades. Most people who live here have seen Stoneman Willy.

After more than a century living with a macabre mystery, the city of Reading, Pennsylvania, is closing the casket today on its oddest-ever resident — a mummified man who will finally be buried and given a new beginning. While people on the west coast prefer cremation, Reading is an old-fashioned cemetery and bury kind of town.

Crowds of people plan to lineup to pay their respects, snap photos, or gaze with bewildered awe on a scene unlikely to ever be repeated in the United States. (“Mysterious mummy dubbed “Stoneman Willie” finally named and buried …” -The New York Times)

“Stoneman Willie” was the nickname bestowed long ago on an alleged thief who died in 1895 in jail and then sent to the Theo C. Auman Funeral Home. When no one claimed the body, the funeral home did what undertakers did. Undertakers accidentally mummified Stoneman Willy. He has been there ever since and today is the day he is laid to rest.

The tension in the house escalated into an overwhelming crescendo. The more she tried to get away the more her husband tried to control her. He worked at the local steel plant doing what he was supposed to do. He painted numbers on boxcars, shoveled barrels of scrap metal and cleaned every dirty machine. He would be heading out the door soon and demanded that she cook him some sunny side up eggs, on the runny side and a side of scrapple. Even though she made far more money than him, he insisted it was her duty to feed the bread winner in the house.

“Could you at least bring me a beer?”

He was the master of strategic incompetence. He pled incompetence on all household chores, especially with the cooking.

“I am heading over to Willy’s funeral.”

“You are cooking me breakfast; I need my energy for the factory.”

His fractured use of the English language bothered her soon after the honeymoon was over. The Poconos still creep her out.

“Cook it your self.”

He walked over to the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of milk. It infuriated her that he still only ate the food his mother used to cook for him. It seemed like everything about him infuriated her. Berks County had its charms, yet people can be set in their way. This is especially true of those who have lived here their entire life. Glen was a textbook case.

“You know I do not know how to cook. “

His strategic incompetence further infuriated her, and she responded.

“Figure it out.” She said with more emphasis than necessary. Glen rarely noticed the subtleties with other people’s moods. And with that, she slammed the screen door and headed down to the funeral home. She did not know why she was going there but it was something she knew she had to do. Stoneman Willie is a local legend, and she wanted to be a part of it, at the very least it was a very compelling story and her life needed that.

When she got to the funeral home, she was surprised as a large crowd gathered. She looked once and she looked twice as if she had to verify what she was seeing. There was actual television crews present. She knew it was unique stories that got Reading, Pennsylvania in the news. It landed in the news for all the wrong reasons, and she had no idea whether this was one of them. Out of habit, she looked up on the mountain to the east and there stood the Pagoda. The ever-present Pagoda stood, shrouded in fog, while stoically overlooking this quirky ritual.

Like most people in Reading, she took a morbid interest in the story that was Stoneman Willy. And why not, it was an interesting story. It was rumored today that they were going to reveal Stoneman Willy’s identity. He sat petrified for centuries without people knowing who he was and where he came from. Nobody had a clue. Would having an identity take away some of the aura surrounding him?

On this day, under gray skies, Willie will finally be given two things that they denied him for more than a century: a proper burial and a name. Heidi lived in Reading hearing stories about Willie from her parents and grandparents. “There were tales, she said, about how his fingernails and hair were still growing.” (“Stoneman Willie Gets a Proper Burial and a Name – The New York Times”)

Heidi finally got a look for herself when the funeral home announced plans to bury Willie. In the days leading to the burial, visitors had one last chance to pay their respects to Willie as he lay in repose in a coffin at Auman’s, dressed in a tuxedo that dates to the 1890s and weighs more than he does. (“Stoneman Willie Gets a Proper Burial and a Name – The New York Times”)

The mood was festive and jocular for a funeral as people of Reading Pennsylvania were celebrating that Willy finally had someplace to go. They were happy to be part of the story and Heidi as well. She was there earlier when this chain of events unfolded. The elevator to get Willie from the funeral home’s second floor broke down. Then the hearse overheated and then the hearse towed to a mechanic. Arrangements were made for Willie to make his way through the city in a motorcycle-drawn hearse. (“Stoneman Willie Gets a Proper Burial and a Name – The New York Times”) Halfway through the parade, the motorcycle died, and a backup hearse summoned. It was clear to most that Willy was at his macabre mischievous best. He was not going to go easily.

An eerie mist engulfed the town making the day even a little more surreal. Some dignitaries were giving a speech about the life and times of Stoneman Willy. It was almost ghostlike as the oration came from within a newly formed mid-afternoon fog. Only dark outlines of those on the podium were visible. This is where Heidi decided to duck into the alley and take a few long luxurious drags from a joint, she snuck off her husband’s bedside table.

“James Murphy may have been from New York, but Stoneman Willie has been a son of Reading for 128 years” spoke the man from behind the microphone.

Heidi, now wearing her new thinking cap, recognized the extreme quirky beauty in this scene. It was so weird and charming, and she found herself digging even deeper. She grew suddenly sad for the man buried and none of his friends came forward to claim the body. She wondered what kind of emotional scars remained on the person who botched the first cremation. She wondered whether the afterlife had any connection to this waking life because he never really left.

The casket sat in a motorcycle drawn hearse where the body was clearly visible. The casket rolled slowly past Heidi as she sat mesmerized by the rapidly shifting fog. Death and funerals invoke plenty of larger-than-life introspection. And then a voice spoke to her, and it startled her for sure.

“Give It Back to Me” came a voice that she could not pinpoint the source.

She moved her head side to side nervously and her hazel blue eyes followed suit.

“Give It Back to Me” came the same voice with added intensity.

Heidi was enjoying herself. There was a different energy in the air. The aura of Stoneman Willy tended to do that to people. It took people to a different dimension where everything seemed possible.

People were throwing carnations and rose petals directly into the vehicle transporting the casket of The Stoneman. By now she knew the voice was coming from her angry husband. She walked over to the hearse at once, gave a knowing smile, and dropped in what remained of the joint she had started earlier. Stoneman Willy could certainly use it.

Her husband appeared from the crowd furious and muted. He stood there petrified. What could he say?

There stood a young woman next to her soon to be ex-husband that she could not recognize yet she let her mind go there anyway. Her hair was perfect and she oozed with class. Her skin amber, yet she was sculpted and intimidating dispite her piercing baby blue eyes. She walked slowly over to Heidi and looked squarely into her eyes. She swiftly introduced herself as Taylor.

“Do you mind if I do?” She nodded and she took in a lungful from what Heidi was smoking. She coughed briefly then squinted into the fading light of the day.

“Shouldn’t you be at work? “Said the beautiful young woman to her husband.

He looked around nervously, not sure what was happening. He looked shaken and disheveled.

“Who are you and why are you bothering me?”

“If I hit it big, I am going to miss this town. This tired old town is sick of you. As is your wife. My name is Taylor.

A certain mortified look came over his face, and he had not much to say. Assertive women intimidated him. Usually, in cases like this when he loses control, he resorts to violence. He had his handgun in his pocket; of course he did. Can you shoot somebody who is already dead?

He was about ready to find out. but the procession moved down the street, and whoever this person was went with them. They headed to Stanley’s Tavern. Stanley’s which closed twelve years ago. They opened for this special occasion. At exactly 3 o’clock that afternoon they all had a few drinks and a toast for the legend known as Stoneman Willie. Taylor played a few songs on her guitar to keep the celebration going. She had written a song or two for Reading’s most famous citizen. Most people in the crowd ignored her as they were now doing shots in his honor. May he not wreak havoc in peace.? Who knows who uttered those words to scare off her husband? She certainly liked this Taylor woman. She swiftly turned her husband into an incoherent speechless idiot. She has a certain je ne sais quoi not usually seen in Berks County, its t takes a little more than that to become a Berks County legend.

Who knows if Stoneman Willy launched Taylor Swift’s career? She will not become the legend that Stoneman Willie was in Berks County, yet somehow, they stay intercconnected.