Message-ID: <17972319.1075840066505.JavaMail.evans@thyme> Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 19:41:00 -0700 (PDT) From: markskilling@hotmail.com To: tskilling@tribune.com Subject: Fwd: Editing, etc. Cc: tomskilljr@aol.com, jeff.skilling@enron.com, mmmmisha@ix.netcom.com, ermak@gte.net Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Bcc: tomskilljr@aol.com, jeff.skilling@enron.com, mmmmisha@ix.netcom.com, ermak@gte.net X-From: "Mark Skilling" X-To: tskilling@tribune.com X-cc: tomskilljr@aol.com, Jeff Skilling, mmmmisha@ix.netcom.com, ermak@gte.net X-bcc: X-Folder: \Jeffrey_Skilling_Dec2000\Notes Folders\All documents X-Origin: SKILLING-J X-FileName: jskillin.nsf Tom, Below is Bill's latest response, and the edit. They made very few changes. How about that. It strange to think that right now, as I write this, you are on the set at WGN, in the middle of the news program, perhaps putting a few finishing touches on your graphics. Just as I got up a few minutes ago (I got up early, which is the best time to get through to the line I share [and also because I'm excited[), and at the exact time I turned on the computor there was a flash of lightening outside. Then, moments later, just as a healthy downpour began, the muezzin started singing outside. (This is true, no lie.) I thought to myself I hope there aren't any more cosmic coincidences (such as a ..., well you know). I'll be on line for a bit, so maybe we'll be able to "talk" on this thing almost as if in person. Love, Mark >From: >To: "Mark Skilling" >Subject: Editing, etc. >Date: Thu, 26 Aug 1999 19:20:58 -0500 > >Hi Mark, >Below is an edited version of your piece. We've got a few questions, which >I've >indicated parenthetically through the story. Most of the editing is >designed to >tighten things a little. And we've reorganized some sentences to clarify >meaning. >This is an interesting moment in the writer/editor relationship and I >regret >that we're experiencing it in cyberspace. It's hard to show you each change >and >explain it, but hopefully they'll be more or less self-explanatory if you >compare the edited version with a printout of the original story. In any >case, >be of good cheer; this is not an extraordinary amount of editing. >I'd suggest that you answer our questions and raise any points about >editing >within the story, just as we have done, and then e-mail the whole story >back. >I'll try again to call you Friday. >You'll see some strange characters in the text; they're our computer >coding. You >can safely ignore them. >I did get through on the fax line and sent you both a contract and a tax >form. I >hope you got them. >Hayirli isler, >Bill > >By Mark Skilling >ISTANBUL?From my living room, I look down a hill, over a collection of red >tiled >rooftops, to the Golden Horn. This river, once beautiful and fast flowing, >is >now stalled and polluted. On the other side of the Golden Horn are the >hills >where the ancient city Byzantium?later to be called Constantinople, later >still >Istanbul?was founded some 2,500 years ago. Above a cement-colored smear of >apartment buildings of much more recent vintage, I can make out the >outlines of >towers that were part of defensive walls first started in the 6th Century. >They >are now rotten with age, though parts had recently been rebuilt for >tourists. >Some of these restored parts collapsed during last Tuesday's earthquake. >The >ancient parts were left unharmed. >(We've deleted the following graf because its effect is compromised by the >fact >that we don't understand the language: Less than a block away is the >minaret of >our small, neighborhood mosque. From here you can hear, five times a day, >its >"ezan" or call to prayer. That call is now as if a lament. The muezzin's >voice >seems fuller, more emotional than usual. He sings in Arabic, which I don't >understand, but I've read that his call reminds the believers that "God is >most >great" and tells them to "Come to prayer, come to prosperity." I listen >carefully, for signs of doubt about God's mercy and compassion. But I >detect no >doubt at all. Instead, it is simply beautiful and sad, and despite not >understanding what he sings, very moving.) >In the last few days I have heard many sad, tired people say automatically, >and >surprisingly without bitterness, that ``Allah verir, Allah alir [God gives, >God >takes away].'' And much has been taken away. The death toll from last >Tuesday's earthquake is likely to exceed 40,000 (we'll make this number >conform >with the best and latest wire service reports we have as of Friday), with >an >equal number injured. Up to 200,000 have been left homeless. Millions >afraid >of the aftershocks, including me, chose to sleep outdoors. >All over Istanbul, in the parks and squares, even on narrow medians between >busy >streets, entire families spent the days and nights on blankets spread out >on the >ground. Usually, you would expect hundreds of tourists to be milling about >in >the grassy Hippodrome alongside the spectacular Blue Mosque and in the >gardens >between that mosque and the Hagia Sophia.But now it was as if a great >migration >were taking place. Many of the women wore brightly colored headscarves. >Other >women, despite the heat, were dressed from head to toe in somber black. >Some >families brought portable propane burners to make their beloved tea. Many >more >had lugged pillows and mattresses, others string and rope which they strung >between trees and posts and used to hang sheets for a bit of privacy. >On the nights immediately after the quake, I was grateful to receive an >invitation to join my friend Ismail's family, to spend the night in a >little >park in the hills above the Bosphorus Bridge. The Bosphorus Bridge is a >huge, >modern suspension bridge connecting Europe and Asia that looks like a gray >version of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. With the bridge's hulk >looming seemingly helplessly (i don't understand, the bridge was helpless? >it >loomed helplessly?) below us, I shared a corner of a colorful Turkish >blanket >covering the ground. We drank tea, smoked cigarettes and joked about being >?MDUL?gocebe?MDNM? [nomads], and about the Turks finally returning to their >forgotten nomadic roots. I practiced my Turkish with the children, who, >unlike >most adults, were able to correct me in English. During the night, while I >slept, someone put a jacket over me. >A week or so later, the rains and cooler weather have come, and the experts >have >given an all-clear sign, most of us have returned to our homes. Back in my >apartment, I glance at my walls, at my ceilings, and find it impossible not >to >think of all those still buried underneath theirs. Last night, at our >favorite >tea garden, I joined Ismail and his wife, Dilek, who had just learned that >three >of her cousins had died in Adapazari, a town that was leveled by the quake. > We >talked about whether people here will ever be able to forget. It hadn't >started >raining yet, so we stayed late, a bit nervous about returning home. >The government, the army and construction contractors are being severely >criticized in the local press and on the streets (for slowness, >carelessness, >greed?). There have been other problems as well. (we've deleted the >following >because this problem seems sort of trivial: In an open area near the caf? I >mentioned above, where dozens of families had come to spend the night, an >old >man had his shoes stolen.) I was told the story of a Turk in Yalova, one >of the >hardest hit areas, selling bottled water for 1.5 million TL (Turkish lira >perhaps?) ($4), 10 times the normal price. The profiteer, however, was >subsequently beaten by the storyteller himself, while a nearby police >officer >did nothing to intervene. >Yet notwithstanding the official response, which has inspired widespread >anger, >the response of ordinary Turks has been overwhelming and impressive. A >large >truck from my relatively poor, working class neighborhood was quickly >filled >with needed supplies -- water, bread, medicine -- and sent to one disaster >site. > The company of one of my students sent along a similar truckload of >supplies, >and has now set up a fund to collect money for the homeless. Efforts like >these have been going on everywhere. Thousands of people from all over >Turkey >have gone to the stricken areas to help, including Kurds who want to prove >their >commitment to the Turkish State. >I recall the criticism I heard after the 1989 San Francisco "World Series'' >Earthquake, which I unfortunately experienced as well. Though admittedly a >much >less serious affair, the cries about lax enforcement of building codes were >similar. Everyone promised to do better, and I hope they have. (We deleted >the >following, which seemed a bit off point: I recall my own pathetic plans, >never >implemented, to prepare for the next "big one". I had cut an article out >of the >paper, which listed the emergency supplies that should be kept close on >hand. >Though I kept that list near to the top of my pile of important papers, >over the >years it simply grew yellow and torn. I finally threw it away at the time >I >packed up for my move to Istanbul. Significantly, b) Before I left San >Francisco last fall, damage from that quake was still being repaired, some >ten >years later, and complaints could still be heard about the government's >continuing failure to enforce building codes rigorously enough. >In the XX months (how many?) I have spent studying and teaching in Istanbul >(is >that accurate?), I have enjoyed almost unending Turkish hospitality. When >I >first came here, on vacation, some two years ago, I met a fine man, Ilyas, >who >makes Saz (is this usage correct? should it be a Saz? Should Saz be caps?) >(a >stringed musical instrument that is as important here as the guitar is in >America) and bought a beautiful one from him. When I returned to Istanbul, >this >time to live (and work?), I visited Ilyas again. When he learned I was >looking >for an apartment, he took most of the next day off and showed me around his >neighborhood, eventually helping me find the place I now live. The Saz >lessons >he eventually gave me were free. My friend Ismail has spent countless >hours >with me, roaming the city, looking for deals on used furniture. He and his >wife >have also lent me a beautiful rug, a blanket, and several other very useful >items in my apartment. I occasionally get gifts from my students, and >never an >unkind word from anyone. After the earthquake itself, several of my >Turkish >friends kept in frequent touch with me. >Several days ago, on the television, I saw and heard a crowd burst into >applause. A young boy had just been rescued from one of the many collapsed >buildings. He appeared dusty but unscathed. As they carried him to an >ambulance a reporter followed, asking him questions. Were you scared? >"Cok >korktum [very scared]!'' His response was perky. He was clearly delighted >to >be back in the world, by the attention he was getting. Then he was asked >about >his family. His eyes grew wide, his face long. "Annem [my mother], >kardesim >[my sister/brother], sesleri duydum [I heard their voices]. Duydum!'' By >the >time they reached the ambulance, he was screaming. "Sesleri duydum! >Sesleri >duydum!'' >I hope the rest of the world hears Turkey's cries for help. >?_va2??MDUL?Mark Skilling is San Francisco attorney who is spending a year >(?) >studying and teaching English in Turkey (again, is this accurate?).?MDNM? > >Bill > ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com