Chateau Lloyd

I don't get into political questions on this blog, but I need to say a few words about memories.

Last week I started getting back to work on my new project, a novel about the Deepwater Horizon oil spill.

One of the cool things about this project is that I have ton of documentary evidence to help flesh things out, including photos.

Now I tend to have a pretty good memory and can rattle off details about historical events, statistics and drop accurate quotations with uncanny accuracy, but my personal memories are not nearly as clear.  As I've gone back to review some of the material for my book, I'm finding that things didn't always line up the way I remember.

Let's start with something really simple:  Did the Media Operations Center have a white board?  What did it look like?

I couldn't remember.  I worked there for many days, spending hours staring at the front of the room, but what did it actually look like?  I wasn't sure.  Happily, I have a photo to help me.

Here's another one.  I went on a recon flight while I was there.  It was a huge deal, something I meticulously documented and a story I love to tell.  I flew with the Army National Guard, in fact, which makes it even more unique since the Army doesn't have a lot of fixed wing aircraft.

The question was, which state owned the plane I flew in?  I couldn't remember.  Was it Mississippi or Alabama?  Turns out it was Mississippi, but my first guess was Alabama. 

This was a major event in my life and it took place only eight years ago.  Turns out, I had some pretty huge holes in my memory, and I don't think I'm unique.  Flying over the largest oil spill in American history is pretty noteworthy.  It's the kind of thing that sticks with you.

And yet I got stuff wrong.  As a student of history, I love first-person accounts, but without documentation, they're little more than impressions.  I'm now a lot more cautious about my recollections.