While visiting Alcatraz, we took an audio tour around the prison, narrated by former correctional officers and inmates.
At the beginning of the audio tour, it was made explicitly clear that these voices were authentic. Photos of the narrators were also positioned throughout the tour, too. Old, black-and-white images of these men inside the prison, who were now speaking to us via headphones.
It was excellent.
Later, I was in the courtyard when a family walked by me. As they did, I overheard the mother tell her two kids that the voices on the Alcatraz audio tour were actors.
They were not. Absolutely not.
The kids knew it, too. “No, Mom. They were the real people,” one said. “Like an audio documentary,” said the other.
“Don’t be stupid,” the mother said. “Do you think the actors in movies are real, too? You think Superman can really fly?”
“This is different!” one protested. “Those were the real people telling the stories.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the mother snapped.
I wanted to jump in and defend the kids.
I did not.
But boy, did I want to jump into the fray. Boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, did I want to.
When I told my own family about my admirable restraint, Clara said, “Dad, this was the time when you should’ve jumped in.”
I can’t win.
