The Price of FreedomBy Carol Alt / Post / May 25, 2016
Every single day we see terrible things happening in the news. It leads me to ask myself, are we just seeing more of the bad things happening these days, or are tragedies actually happening more and more often? I’m not sure which is true. It’s truly awful. Just yesterday I was watching an episode of 20/20 focusing on kidnapping and sex slaves. I consider myself truly lucky for all the years I spent as a young model, never once thinking about kidnapping. I guess I mean I never thought about it seriously. My first trip to Rome was for the Italian Bazaar collections; and I vividly remember my mother saying if anyone were to stick me with a needle I was to scream as loud as possible, get to a public place, and put up a fight. She told me never depend on the store owner, as he may be in on it too. It was about the extent of my self-defense knowledge, and I’m glad I never had to use it.
Hell, my agency sent me to the craziest of places. I rode dark cargo elevators in the back of buildings alone, heading to shoots you had to be invited to. Dressed to Kill, the 1980 Nancy Allen and Angie Dickinson movie, scared the living daylights out of me, as there was a scene of a character killed doing just what I got used to- standing in those dark service elevators alone late at night. I’d often leave these shoots at midnight or later, and would leave through secondary exits so as not to be seen.
Nothing may have happened, but it still got to me. These days the world is full of scams, hustles, and tragedy. Every time one gets “found out,” three more pop up in its place, ready to take the money, life, or health of unsuspecting victims. I’m an adult and I feel this way. I can’t possibly imagine being a child in today’s world, and I think it’s difficult to truly help them understand just how important it is to keep an eye out for these predatory people. I remember my sisters and I- three little cute blonde girls- walking to school through the streets of Queens. We lived five blocks from Saint Fidelis in College Point, and never had a care in the world about being kidnapped. These days, I don’t know.
Maybe, as I said, maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s that now that I’m grown and understand how the world works a little better than I did at that age, I’ve become a more wary, more paranoid. I’m not being sarcastic when I say I miss that innocence, and I’m not being sarcastic when I say that I’d put a chip in my child, if I were to ever have kids.
If I put a chip in my cat, I don’t see why that’s unreasonable. The thought of losing Sammy, my fluffy little silly kitty, hurts so badly I can’t begin to feel what I imagine parents who have lost children feel inside. Devastating. I mean honestly, I’ve even thought about having myself chipped. I still travel a lot, and it’d be nice to have some peace of mind that they’d be able to find me in the event of the unthinkable. I live alone, I cross international borders on a regular basis, and the thought still crosses my mind that my own mother doesn’t know where I am.
Sometimes I wonder. What price do we put on our freedom? How far does the rabbit hole go, and where does that freedom end for the sake of safety?
Let me know what you think.
Edited by Jake Layton