Is the number 19 special to you??

[Terry B]

just remembered that 19 is one of my lottery numbers
does that make it special?

Well, if I win big, it will become special, I know that much!

Doubtful. It's one of mine to and a lot of good that's done over the years.

[Constantandfaithfulreader]

Got married July 19 1997. Find the number
very lucky.

[Srbo]

Came to canada on June 19-th.

Never thought of that `till just this moment...

[mojomofo]

My daughter was born on June 19th.

And it did occur to me at the time that some pretty bad things have happened on that day...

[mojomofo]

I want to clarify a bit- my daughter's birth was NOT one of the bad things!!

[Srbo]

I want to clarify a bit- my daughter's birth was NOT one of the bad things!!

We didn`t think it was.

[KattingAround]

19? special? oh yeah.
born: 06 19 1983. 19 years after Odetta Walker's three friends died for civil rights. 19 years before the paid locker in the Twin Towers would have run out. Stephen King was hit on my sweet 16th, the year I graduated high school and had broken up with a man who looks like Mr King with blond hair. A man who sees horrific things when he closes his eyes but draws the most beautiful roses I've ever seen. I burned the one he drew me.
chassit.
Tabby King? Kitty. wife of Ronald. not Roland, somewhat like - identifies most with Roland (but loves Matt of the late Mr Jordan's Wheel of Time: a man who didn't hurry up and finish his tale before ka took him). Ronald of New York (state, hah!) short thick and sturdy. Marine. Never would have guessed.
Finishing the Dark Tower now. The first four books of the Dark Tower were his gift to me last Christmas.
I'm a "homeless" person. Never lived in a state of the union longer than 5 years total. Daughter of Dan. Mother born the year Odetta lost her legs. Joined the military the year I turned 19 - but not because of the towers falling. I dreamt of a horrific plane crash and woke to the words "Oh my God, all those people!" in June, when I was going through the enlistment process. I'd never woken from fear from a dream before that I could ever remember. When I had breakfast with my dad, I told him about it. The plane was a passenger plane and I saw it from a bustling theme park (Sea World, maybe) and it just seemed to fall out of the sky, belly-down, onto a roller coaster. Then the shockwave and fire burst outward in a wave and I ran for a shiny metallic hot dog stand in a row of vendors. But I've never been to New York city and didn't know anyone who died that day. (GRTS)
Life is like a dream to me. And this? This is weird. Liked numerology (the biblical kind, anyway) - but always two's, not nines. The gemini: the twins.
Loved the show Sliders and my own Tolkien world involved world-jumping. I love Mr King's rendition on the theme.
So yeah, 19 is special to me - but not nearly as much as to Roland.

[KattingAround]

Do I add a post script?
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Before I do, I must note, whatever the reaction: I was never an avid SK fan. No offense, but I like fantasy because many (Andre Norton in ways I can smell and almost touch) make me feel transported out of reality. I feel like I'm stepping somewhere weird and unpredictable: alien. I love Japanese Anime because it's totally whacked: no neat, predictable American Hollywood endings and sometimes no closure, but I hate knowing what will happen next. Mr King dances too close to reality. The people he writes are too realistic and dirty. I've tried to read Christine at least twice and the nasty boy who tells the story disgusted me. Indeed, the first time I picked the Gunslinger off my dad's shelf, the nymphomaniac woman disgusted me, and the book was replaced. My husband is a fan and I read Mr Jordan's Wheel of Time series because he loves it. I also enjoyed it and the same goes with the Dark Tower. I've grown up some and have come to appreciate a world beyond my teenage idealism. Could never have read the series otherwise.
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I have just finished the last of the Dark Tower. It feels done and I look forward to seeing its echos in the other novels by Mr King. Ronald gave me Insomnia with the four first DT books.
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But back to the craziness:
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The previous (and my first post here) was posted day before yesterday. A few hours after posting it, I was called and informed by my cousin that our cousin had been LifeFlighted to the hospital following a car accident. A single-car accident caused (we believe) by a tie-rod (whatever that is) breaking suddenly in the vehicle, causing it to flip or turn (something like that). The man driving was only bumped & bruised. The other woman wound up underneath and for a day the word out was that she was going to die. (She's fine and has gone home, say thankya.)
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My cousin punctured a lung, but was conscious enough to insist, blue-faced, on her sister riding in the bird with her to the hospital. Her sister sat there trying to explain that no, she couldn't ride with her.
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A CAT scan later, we know that the lung puncture is small. Five ribs are broken and her pelvis is, too. Her ankle may or may not be and same goes for her nose. With all the complaining she's been up to, we don't worry for her life, or much for her sanity.
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The only reason I put this out is because it's weird and compelling. I see patterns in a lot of things and they make me double-take often. I imagine that such coincidences are run-of-the-mill and I just notice them more than most people. I try not to turn my life on them for a coincidence isn't always a nice coincidence, and patterns are not the stuff of happiness. When I wrote last, I had just read of Jake's death and Roland leaving with Irene. (I finished the day at p. 483)
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I haven't been there at the death of anyone, but I have had many many people walk into my life for a season and when I leave, I know they are gone forever. It just comes with being a wanderer and trying to chase people doesn't work unless you make them family. The only people I have the energy to commit to are family and the only people I have the hope of remaining. [well, except for one crazy (insane?) Airman I know] I see echos of myself in this novel and at first I thought, hey, this sometimes happens; it's okay, even pleasantly eerie. Then pops out June 19. Wham! Okay. Fine, I think, and make sticky-note marks in the book to show my husband - a man with no imagination (OMG never met a man with so little in my life - don't laugh - i love sci-fi and dreaming of the things which may come and they fall flat with him. I love him, I do, and when he tells me he loves me, I'm filled with pride that someone like him, with no imagination, would find me worthy - for I can't just say he's making it up! 'Cause where would it come from?).
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I make the notes. My mind starts it's fantastically annoying squirreling of numbers. Some dates don't work and some go ping!. I decided to see if SK really was hit on 19 June, and that brought me here. So I posted what I'd written for myself and then looked through this forum to see if anyone else had an experience like mine. Maybe I am weird.
</br>
I also mis-wrote: I graduated in 2000 (the class of naught = and the sermon our graduating class got was a long argument (plea?) on not committing suicide). I broke up with the man that spring, not in '99 when we met and fell in love. He left for Ithaca in '99 and returned I know not when. *Shrugs*
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The only other thing I would tell is of a dragon I painted for a cousin in the Navy. He visited my family one year and I wanted to gift him something, so I hid in my room long enough to paint a dragon inside an egg. The hardest part was figuring out how to position the hands. By chance, perhaps, the dragon wound up playing air guitar. I wrote at the bottom of the image: Impending Danger (or Doom, my memory runs to fog). Later, found out that my cousin had been playing guitar (I didn't even know he played guitar till then) in clubs on shore leave. He was discharged for acid use and was in the hospital for a heart wrenching period of time for my family. It was like his mind had split between mean and nice. He's since recovered from that. That's It.

[deluxe]

19 is how many days i have before i have to feed simon in the basement his seal liver.

[blunthead]

I sure miss being 19. I hated turning 20--couldn't be a teenager anymore!