The previous post was about a random accident that took a life. So is this one. Except this time, I knew who the victim was. I knew him.
The police report came in just before our 11pm news. It detailed the accident, and released the names of those involved. He was just 24, out for a ride on his motorcycle on a beautiful day. It ended badly on Route 44 in Mansfield. It wasn’t his fault.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had to report on the death of someone I knew. Fortunately, this time I was able to beg off reading the story once we learned who it was. I could have. I would have if I’d had to. But given the choice…
I had just seen the young man’s father less than two hours before it happened. I’ve known him for years. We talked. His business was doing well, his family was well, life was good.
Then…I just can’t imagine.
In the news business, we deal with tragedy in bulk. For every sad, awful story we have to tell, we never know how many people are on the receiving end whose lives have been directly touched…affected…shattered.
We do our best to show respect. And every now and then, we do our best not to cry.