Forced Contemplation

Today I witnessed an accident. Isn't it disturbing how something as benign as gazing through the window of a restaurant can become the magnifying glass through which you see a gruesome tragedy? You are safely encased behind steel and glass, separated from the action by seconds and space, and yet you are close enough to visually digest the magnitude of the event, the injuries, and the consequences.

Lives are altered at impact. Help does not arrive immediately, and it is in those first few seconds that time seems to stand still. Bystanders are so wholly shocked at what they have seen that some people begin to cry, some gaze with a stone cold stare, some rush away, some continue to scream, and some make a frantic attempt to reach for their cell phones. I was in the stone cold stare category.

It is only a short wait until emergency personnel arrive. They are some of the most efficient people I've ever seen. That is, in an actual emergency. When there is no emergency (that is to say, the accident is too severe), things take on a slow and measured pace. It is the tempo of an investigation and it is eerie. Even in the absence of any emotional involvement, the images are ingrained in my mind, burned there like an old western scene on a leather wallet. It is there, and it's not going anywhere.