As we drove down Miramar Parkway on our way home, I asked my mom if she could turn into 172nd so that we could pass by the crash site. I was just being curious and wanted to see for myself what everyone had been talking about. When we drove next to it, there was a group of friends just sitting there on the sidewalk, staring at the candle-lit ground, while music faintly played from their car. My childish curiosity quickly dissipated and became replaced with guilt for ever having though of it as a highly-gossiped attraction that I was dying to see, no pun intended. The biggest sinking feeling suddenly came over me and I began to cry, not stopping until I got home. I didn’t even know the two guys that passed, and yet I was horribly saddened by the faces worn on those friends. Faces that looked all at once lost, shocked, sad, scared, alone. I can’t imagine how much worse, than I already did, I would feel if those candles and pictures and gifts had been placed there for someone I know. It’s incredible that something sad has to happen before we realize how privileged we all are for every day that we make it through; before we realize how much we take every single part of our lives for granted.
My thoughts and prayers completely and wholeheartedly go out to Kevin O’Connell, Ian Guckian, their families, their friends, and anyone else who has ever been, or will unfortunately be, in a similar position.
