I was saddened to read of the death of a young school student in the Lanark Coach crash.
The crash took place about 40 miles away. Yesterday I was moaning about the weather, and my journey to the airport. I got home safely, but it seems that not everyone did.

One of Mrs Weasel's school chums died in a continental coach crash 25 years ago. She would have probably been married and had kids by now. She might have been happy or not, but she never had the chance. She is remembered as a young girl, and even today, there are teachers still at the school who remember the tragedy. I am sorry and sad. What else can one say?

1 comment:

Jim Baxter said...

When you're that age yourself you think less of such losses - sad, sure, but them's the breaks. Not so as you get older. The loss of young people - total strangers - comes to matter more and more.

Some time ago I had a message at my place of work from an 18 year old man who wished me to know, for some reason, that life should be about being spontaneous because you never know what will happen next. He was killed by a locomotive in the small hours two days later. It wasn't suicide. He'd maybe had a bit to drink and was using the local railway line to navigate home, maybe thinking it's not a main line and so all trains would be off by then, not knowing that in winter vehicles called de-icers run on suburban lines throughout the night.

That was the first time I noticed that I was now affected by the loss of young people I hardly knew or didn't know at all.