Last Friday a customer of mine was hit by a train in town while trying to beat it across the tracks. He hopped out of his friends' car and took off, trying to beat them to the bar. They swung around and went the other way to avoid the train. They had no idea he was even hit until they saw the train stop and saw flashing lights. He was basically killed instantly by the speeding train.
It took me a few days to realize who it even was. No one else seems to remember him at all.
I've been trying really hard to explain him to people, to get them to know who he was. I found myself wondering why. I just kept repeating that he was a pipe fitter who drove a powder blue older model GM sedan, that he came to lane two, wore a baseball cap a lot, had reddish brown hair, wasn't all that friendly but wasn't rude, either, was the same age as me, and since I started there I trained him to have his slips filled out.
It finally occurred to me why I was so adamant that people remember him.
I was eulogizing him.
I was trying to say my farewell to this person I didn't really know that well, trying to put him to rest in my own mind.
Then, last night while we were out, two trains were stopped on the tracks. It turns out that another train hit a car in town. Two in one week. I only hope that no one I know was inside. I'm still trying to deal with the first.
Rest in peace, Joe.
the first attack wave
49 minutes ago