Hard to Fathom

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There’s so much bad news to deal with.

Every little beep and vibration scares me.

“Now what?”

I don’t remember it always being that way. I’ve paid way more attention to the news these last couple of years than I ever have.

“Duck Boat accident in Missouri,” was a headline that I clicked by quickly.

I had zero idea of what a duck boat was and wasn’t sure how bad something like that could be.

Then I heard that there were a lot of fatalities.

Still didn’t want to read about it.

Too sad.

“Nine out of eleven members of the same family died.”

I read it.

How horrible.

The Coleman family was on vacation. It was the usual family reunion. Just out having a good time. They got on a boat under a clear blue sky.

They’d actually swapped tickets and were on their second choice of boat for the day.

The storm came in quickly.

The boat capsized.

They weren’t wearing life jackets.

9 out of 11 Coleman’s died.

Years and years ago I went out on a small boat with friends in the Baltimore harbor. It was sunny when we went out. The guy who owned the boat began acting nervously.

We began racing the storm to the shore.

We didn’t make it before we got hit. The waves, the heavy rains and high winds. There were two men  and three women on the boat, and there was me.

I’m less than useless in a situation that calls for any sort of man task. The captain was shouting out orders and the other man on the boat was working hard. To me, he may as well have been speaking Chinese.

I had no idea what he was trying to tell me to do.

I comforted the women by laying on the floor of the boat with them, wondering if that’s how we’d all die.

We made it in.

“Tie off the boat!” The Captain was screaming as we got close to the shore. The other guy tied the knot, and we got safely out.

As we were having a beer and watching the storm batter the coast, everyone turned their attention to me and how scared I was.

“Damn right,” I said. “And let me announce my retirement from boating.”

I’m not sure I’ve been on a boat in the 25 years since.

I thought of all of this as I read the interview of the surviving Colemans.

“Are you thankful that you survived?” The reporter asked.

“I don’t know yet,” the poor woman answered.

I told you it was bad.

God help them.

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