Tragedy close to home

Working in the news business for 33 years there are certain telltale signs that something is terribly wrong. When the limousine crashed in Schoharie we heard initial reporters of “multiple fatalities.” Then a few hours later we were told only one thing again and again; “multiple fatalities.” When I woke up the next day and heard the same two words again my heart sank because I knew it had to be bad. When five people are killed police tell you within a few hours. When it takes this long you brace yourself for the worst. Boy did we get it.

I’ve covered my share of heartbreaking stories over the years including the Thruway bridge collapse and 9-11 but this one was different. It wasn’t just the crushing weight of the death toll, 20 people; it was how personal this felt to all of us. You looked at the last names and so many sounded familiar. Chances are because they were friends of your friends on Facebook. How many of us got a phone call last Monday or Tuesday from a friend or relative and were told about a connection to one of the innocent victims?

You looked where it happened and odds are you felt like you’d driven by that very spot at least once in your life. Anyone living or working in Schoharie County has certainly stopped at the Apple Barrel for cider donuts and fun. And of course you looked at what they were doing that day, celebrating in the back of a limousine and that too felt familiar. We all find ourselves in the back of a limo from time to time whether it’s for a wedding, birthday party or retirement celebration. I guess what I’m saying is this one felt different because you could see yourself in that limo that day. It could be your family right now dropped to their knees with grief trying to make sense of it all.

I found myself looking at the social media pages of the victims and it breaks your heart. You look at things they posted just days ago, clearly having no clue their lives would be taken so soon. Amy Steenburg and her husband Axel were married just a few months ago. Her very last post on Facebook from October 3rd at 10:35 a.m. (two days before the crash) she professed her love for her husband and thanked him for moving the couch around the living room for her and then, in the end, moving it back to its original place. Those are the kind of everyday moments that make our lives real and pre- cious to us. Those silly things are what marriage and love are all about.

Another victim of the crash was a beautiful young lady named Amanda Halse. I saw her sister being interviewed on CNN and she said her last great memory with Amanda was a recent trip to Vermont. I went and found their photos from that day and, coincidentally, they were in Shaftsbury, Vermont the very same day my wife and I were. Their final photo together is them enjoying ice cream from The Chocolate Barn. We were in the same place at the same time and it makes me wonder if she held the door for me that day? Did she exchange a glance or smile with my wife at the Gap outlet in nearby Manchester? As silly as it sounds, even though she was a stranger, you wish you could go back to that moment and give her a hug or tell her how pretty her hair looked that day.

In the weeks to come police will sort out how this tragedy happened and I’m quite certain if there was criminal wrongdoing at the root of this someone will go to jail. No one will ever drive by The Apple Barrel again, ever, without looking toward those woods, where so many souls were taken, and not think about them. To this day I can’t cross the NYS Thruway over the Schoharie creek without thinking of that bridge collapsing and those poor people being swept away.

I can’t imagine the burden those first responders will forever have seeing what they saw that day in Schoharie and knowing there was nothing they could do. We don’t give enough respect to the men and women who rush out in the middle of the day or night and try to help strangers in trouble.

I wrote something from the heart on Facebook that I wanted to share here in closing. Even though these 20 lives are gone the love remains. Love does not die on the side of a country road. It endures in the hearts of those who knew them and between those who were taken. Amy and Alex, Amanda and her sister Rina. Not even death can break those bonds of love. Someone who lived and walked this earth a long, long time ago taught us this.

I don’t know if this column will find its way to any of the victim’s families but please know your loved ones are in my prayers. May God bless and keep them until you see them again.