Last Thursday evening, about fifteen
minutes before work began, I was informed of why my manager seemed in
tears. A co-worker of mine had died last night, in a car accident.
It looked like he had taken a corner too fast. He was seventeen.
While normally I wouldn't tell you the events I have planned, today I
will.
Today I will spend most of my day in
the company of evening shift workers. We worked with the young man
who died. We'll have a potluck lunch together, then go to the
memorial service. The seventeen year old's funeral will be in the
states, so that his family can attend.
I don't have much to say about what's
happened the past tow weeks, not for me personally. Between school
and work, I didn't attend Octoberfest, and with the distressing news,
I didn't do much of anything. For simplicity's sake, I'm going to
call the young man B.
B was a christian, a quarterback,
involved in clubs, good at school. He was the type of kid you can
see growing into a family man. His family had no problems, and he
never talked about ever fighting with his parents. When the family
came to eat at our workplace, he'd go out, say hello, and give his
mom a hug. B was a good kid.
The base commander sent a chaplain to
our work the day after he heard. One by one, which each broke down
with the chaplain to comfort us. Even our manager, an atheist, was
comforted somewhat.
I was not close to B, but he was a good
worker, and willing to help out. His girlfriend also worked at
Burger King. They had not been dating for more than a month. On
Friday was homecoming.
Life is sad. It's short and sweet, and
for some it's shorter than others. People rarely expect it to be so
short, and never expect to lose a kid who didn't deserve to die.
The chaplain did say something to me
though. He reminded me that God has a plan, and even this said
event, this horrible event served a purpose. B had dedicated his
life to God, and I believe even his death had a reason beyond he took
a corner too fast. He had only been driving a month. There is a
small candle where he died. The daughter of the evening manager, who
was friend with B and went to school with him, came in the other day
with a pair of broken glasses. She and her sister had been out to
the crash site. They had found his glasses.
Tomorrow, we're going to give them to
his parents. I know that if someone had found my mom's glasses, I
would have wanted them and this seems the right thing to do. As for
me, this merely cements my feelings on the month of September. It is
the saddest month I know.
I don't have much more to say. I know
this blog is short, and I know most of you who read this aren't
interested in a nameless boy in an accident, other than to say, how
sad. But I can tell you that this boy, nameless to you, touched more
lives in seventeen years than many people much older.
One Final Byte: I hope one day, cars
no longer kill.
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