Tabatha Deans

Crashing in the country

I’ve been flying high and having a grand ole’ time here in V town for a few weeks  now. But tonight, it all came crashing down. Not in the sense that my life came crashing down, but I was brutally reminded of the not so positive side of being a reporter. We spent the evening on a ride-along with a local officer, who is really cool and showed us a good time for the  most part. But the last call we went on involved an auto/pedestrian accident that wasn’t pretty. We arrived on the scene,  about three city blocks, which were blocked off from every direction by cops. There were so many red and blue lights flashing eerily in the night, that my heart began racing. I wanted to get out and find out what was going on, but we waited in the car for the official word that it was safe to get out.

Excited and anxious at the excitement going on around us, I was a little disappointed when the lieutenant got back in the car and told us it would be a while, because the scene was being investigated. A woman had run over a man, and he was dead, still underneath the car, just a block away from us, waiting for the detectives to arrive and investigate the scene. Being so close to death really bothered me, not because I have a problem with death, but because it was so fresh, and senseless, and in the dark night, surrounded by lights, I realized we were one of the few people who knew about this tragedy. I was hit with the realization of the events that would follow.

Some wife, or mother, or children were sleeping soundly, completely unaware that in an hour or so they would receive a call telling tham that their husband/son/father was dead. KNowing that they would get the call made me want to cry, thinking about how I would feel if I were on the receiving end of the tragic news. I knew their lives would never be the same. They would always remember this dreadful night, and would spend this night on trying to put the pieces of their lives back together. They would never be able to fully recover, and I knew this, several hours before they ever would. I went to bed and tried to sleep, but was haunted by what I know, and angry at the injustice of a life being taken suddenly, and the fact that tomorrow, when I wake up and go about my daily routine, they will have to stumble through life with their tragedy. And the rest of the world will continue on as if nothing has happened.

November 22, 2008 - Posted by Tabatha Stewart | Uncategorized