It's not often that large scale death and destruction comes to your own "back yard".
But on Friday, Sept. 12th at 4:23 p.m. that's exactly what happened.
An explosion, a mushroom cloud of smoke, helicopters overhead, were the first signs that something had gone terribly wrong.
I quickly turned on the t.v. to find that a commuter train had collided with a freight train.
My brave husband, along with two other selfless neighbors, were first responders. Forgetting that the train on fire could have easily blown up, they ran in the direction of danger, doing what their hearts told them to do...
...to help save someone's child, or spouse, or sibling.
They immediately began pulling people out of the train, blocking the death, and groans and cries of people all around, in order to do what they were compelled to do.
Just regular people, who will never admit that they were heroes for a day.
I dedicate this post to:
- the ordinary people who lost their lives just simply trying to get home on a Friday evening after a long work week.
- the people who were injured and may have a long journey back to health.
- the families who will never again see the people they loved.
- the firefighters, the police, the rescue workers, the emergency room doctors and personnel, the news reporters, and the brave neighbors who all worked tirelessly to save lives.
My husband and the others were asked to leave the scene as soon as rescue workers arrived. They came back home overwhelmed, out of breath, tears falling down their cheeks.
They came back home as ordinary heroes.