UCLA Journal of Radiation Oncology January 1, 2022 - Flipbook - Page 24
UCLA RADIATION ONCOLOGY JOURNAL
AT S E A
In May of 1920, my great-grandfather, Alfred Owen Morasso, returned home to Gibraltar following the wreck of his
fifty-man steamer off the coast of Norway. He had been found nearly frozen to death clinging to the mast of the ship,
the only piece that remained above water. He was the sole survivor. I felt like I had been brought into this world hearing
about Alfred Owen and his heroics. The narrative seemed to get bigger, more exaggerated, each time it was told. “He
survived by cooking fish with his cigarette lighter! Can you believe it?” my cousin said. “He was up there for WEEKS!” the
other bragged. “How did he sleep?” “He’s a pirate!” said the youngest to an audience of eye rolls. “He did it for us!” we all
exclaimed proudly lying in the grass after a particularly vicious game of red rover. That’s right, he did it for us.
A few months ago, while doing some procrastinating (not work-related – I wouldn’t dare), I was searching for any
pictures on the internet that may exist of this fantastical figure. For all the stories that were told, there wasn’t much
documentation on the event or even what my great-grandfather may have looked like at the time. However, I managed
to find a picture of Alfred Owen looking dapper as can be as a young seaman leaning on the rails of a ship. Another
incredible photo showed the mast that he clung to barely sticking out of the water. A third was an article that was written
when he returned which featured a reporter asking him something to the effect of why/how he had managed to hold on.
This was it! (Here came the part where he spoke of his incredibly successful great-grandchild who would go on to be the
social worker for the Department of Radiation Oncology at UCLA Health!) His response was not about me, but that he
found the highest point he could to be more easily identified for his family. It was a letdown. That couldn’t be it! There
had to be more. There had to be a burning desire to survive—something that kept him alive on The Baltic.
My great-grandfather did not cook fish with his cigarette lighter. He wasn’t stranded for weeks; it was a day or two at the
most. He probably would have died if he’d slept, and he wasn’t a pirate (that I’m sure of). He focused on what he could
and could not control at the time. He focused on the information he had at that moment which was nothing more than
that he wanted someone to be able to identify him, as the chances of his survival were next to nothing. He didn’t utilize
the critical energy needed for keeping his physical body alive on worrying about anything but that. All of this quite
literally lashed him to the mast to the point where he would simply not let go. It kept him holding on.
After yet another year of COVID, of all the -isms, political turmoil, etc., I’ll be the first to admit that it’s been challenging
to find meaning, stay focused, motivated, and committed. I reflect on early-mid COVID Liz, scared but ready, feisty even,
to get myself and our patients/families through this in the most graceful way—empowering even! “Look what we did,”
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