by Kelly Moran
for 1 November 1995
The Chicago-bound express train was traveling between 50 and 60 mph, well below the 70 mph limit, when it hit the brakes. The engineer had seen the bus cross the tracks and stop. He hit his emergency brakes with all his strength.
It was too late. The kids in the back of the bus saw the train coming and begin a desperate, but hopeless, scramble toward the front.
Drivers in other cars watched in helpless horror.
The impact sheared the body of the bus off the chassis, spinning it around 180 degrees. The bus is designed to break apart in a high-speed crash, to put distance between the occupants and the gas tank.
Nobody on the train was injured.
Since Wednesday, dozens of bouquets and mementos have been placed against the crossing gates: balloons, poems, a red candle, a white cross and two white teddy bears with red hearts. Ribbons and flowers rustle in the breeze as trains still pass.
For some people, October 25 will be a tragic memory for many years. Every school bus a reminder. Every train. Every crossing.
The flowers were still there on Sunday, as officials staged a re-creation of the accident. They parked an identical 35 foot bus at the light, which is 30 feet from the tracks. Then they slowly brought the dented train to within three feet of the bus.
Even at slow motion, the scene was too much for some onlookers to stand. A crowd of about 40 watched the investigators work. Many in the crowd were in tears.
Last week, at the high school in Cary, students pinned white paper to their shirts with the names of the dead on them. Many held hands. Boys and girls wept together.
"No one is doing any learning, they're just sitting and crying," said 16-year-old Melanie Jopek.
I think many of us have learned a few things. I know that I have.
Things like the fragility of life. The pain of losing someone you love. The eternal importance of every moment.
Life is a gift from God. Whether seven or seventy years, it seems too short. But it is a gift. Every breath, every smile, every tear. God made us to experience life, and he gave us this gift so that we might recognize the Giver.
In the darkness of personal tragedy, it's hard for me to clearly see the gift. But every hour with a precious child is a gift from God.
Life is fragile, tenuous. Our ability to love becomes a curse, when the one we love is gone.
Every moment is a gift. God has sustained my life another day. I could not have done it on my own.
Jesus asked, "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" (Matthew 6:27)
Indeed, by worry or by any other power, I know that each day could be my last, and I can do nothing about it.
Therefore, each moment becomes important. It is imperative to live life fully. To be a devoted husband or wife, mother or father. To show love and to be loved.
It is also imperative that each moment be considered for what it is in a Spiritual sense. The clock ticks not toward an end, but a new beginning: an eternal life.
Your name could have been on the paper pinned near the heart. Is your name written on His heart?
Is the name of Jesus written on yours?
God, I seek to put You first.
Published weekly for 4 years and 4 weeks.
This text is available at no cost by E-mail, (send request or comments to LifeWire@ripco.com), and by FAX: (708) 358-8171.
Check the index of recent back issues.
All Scripture references are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version (unless otherwise noted).
Copyright 1995 by Kelly Moran.