Art sustains through life and death, COVID and wars
In the summer of 1988, my pediatrician, Dr. Emanuel Rashet, saved my life. I had stopped breathing; my heart wasn’t beating. My child-sized body lay limp in my grandmother’s lap as she sat in his office, tears rolling down her cheek. I was dead. Rashet brought me back to life in what I like to describe as a PBS version of the famed scene in “Pulp Fiction” — with an adrenaline shot straight to the heart. Thirty-something years later, our lives would once again intertwine, unknowingly, ...
Source: savannahnow.com