Sunday, November 2, 2008
"Mind You Don't Step In The Meat."
That's not the sort of thing you relish hearing, or saying, at a wreck scene. Nor is picking up all those pieces of meat and deciding what goes in which body bag.
Two wrecks, seven fatalities within a few hours of each other, and nary a one within the sunny side of twenty-one years old. The two that lived, if indeed you can call it that, will be permanently damaged.
Alcohol, speed and stupidity.
And waste. It's soul-wearying.
*sigh*
That's another new set of mangled faces deposited in the Nightmare Bank.
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22 pithy observation(s).:
Aww, shit! Why does it have to be young ones?
With age comes maturity and wisdom, I guess. Let us hope that those who are precious to us get their wisdom before they take themselves out of the game.
Sorry man, sounds like an awful time. It's always difficult dealing with wasted life. Especially when it's kids. I've written about those "ghosts" on my blog, they never leave you.
I'm so sorry- anything else I could say would be so superficial so I won't- it's a rotten waste of lives and heartache for those who are left.
Take care AD!
Maybe you will go a long time before you see any more.
Just damn.
Wow. Dealing with kids like that is hard. Those nightmares and images never quite leave you. I'm sorry.
Bless your heart AD. I've been in those situations myself and it never gets any easier. The best advice I know to give is hug your loved ones, cry your heart out and have a good stiff drink. Then go out tomorrow and hope it is better.
Thank you for being there!!
The only line I have ever heard that can express my feelings at a time like this is "I grieve with you". As an empath my nature, it is all there is to say.
What others have said. I am sorry. I grieve with you. I pray you don't have to deal with anything of the sort again for a long, long time.
I'm sorry, AD.
I haven't been in that situation, and I don't know what to say.
I wish I could come up with something that would bring you some comfort. There simply aren't words.
We had a local kid who ducked under the railroad arms coming down to beat the train. Beat the train okay--he was one of the lucky ones--but there was a cop on the other side who promptly gave him the what-for he so richly deserved. The highschooler was protesting, "It's MY life!"
And the cop raged at him, and wrote it as a story for the local paper later, "It is NOT. It is MY life when I have to pick up your mangled carcass. It is your MOM's life when I have to knock on her door and tell her what stupidity you did and how you and she have to pay for it permanently. It is the life of every single person who has to deal with what you did--and you just lucked out this time. But don't you EVER do that again to the people who love you!!!"
I'm so sorry you had to see those.
I'm so sorry, AD. Wish I could do or say more. I hope they don't visit you while you sleep.
Uh-huh. BTDT, first as a volunteer St. John's Ambulance medic in South Africa, then as a pastor, having to tell parents or spouses or children that their son, or daughter, or spouse, or daddy, or mommy wasn't coming home any more.
It never gets easier . . . and the faces still come back.
All I can say, good buddy, is that the faces that haunt our dreams are the faces of what might have been. Whenever they come back to me, I remind them that what 'might have been' will never be, now: and I have to live in the real world, not what 'might have been'. With that, I usher them out, as gently as I can, and get on with the business of living.
If you need to talk, call me.
Peter
Aw, crappity. That's so terrible. I hate that such things happen, and I hate that you have to witness it. I know the people who have a chance at making it through such tragedies probably very often do so as a direct result of your expertise and professionalism. Bless you, AD.
So sorry you had to be the clean up crew! Teenagers need to see some of those things to get into their thick heads, that they are not superhuman.
Hugs to you big guy!
May God grant you some peace.
I make my living working on highways. I think you remember every wreck and wonder where judgement was during the event.
Nothing prepares you for the hours of stopped traffic while searchers look for every small piece left of the victims of speed.
Jon
A.D.
Can't add anything not already said...you and they are in my prayers
Yep. Going shooting lost a lot of it's joy for a while after being at the club on another range when one cousin was screwing around and shot the other in the head with an "empty" gun. Then I was the one at the gate stopping traffic when his younger brother showed up looking for him, because he hadn't shown up at a gathering as expected...
Those faces never leave, but sometimes, you can make friends with them.
God be with you, AD.
(hugs)and love from here in GA... I'm so sorry.
I am a funeral director, and the majority of young driver/vehicular deaths I've dealt with are motorcycle related. Usually excessive speeding. No matter how it happens, though, it's always a shame to see.
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