"The silence of this place is as real and solid as sound. More real, in fact." Written by Admiral Byrd in 1934, alone in a shack near the South Pole for five months. He received messages by radio from his friend President Roosevelt. Though close at times to death, he "felt more alive," he confesses, in his solitude, "than at any other time in my life." To feel alive because of silence, reminds me of the silence of death in a weird kind of way. Byrd's solitude, by definition,
