I came across an ad on Facebook for a book about The Station nightclub fire in Rhode Island, USA, in 2003 that killed 100 people and injured many more. Among them was one of my co-workers named Stacie. I remember talking to her on the phone just hours before she was to attend a concert there featuring the '80s rock band Great White; I remember how excited she was about going to see them.
The next morning, after learning about the tragedy in the news, I found myself frantically calling her cell phone, leaving messages on her voicemail to please call me back at the office. Her phone had been off, and she wasn't working her assigned case. I immediately called my boss, John, and said to him that "I think something is very wrong. Stacie is not answering her phone. She went to that concert last night."
In the aftermath, there was video footage of the fire from inside the club. It turns out that Stacie was at the very front of the stage, in plain view on the video. She was likely among the first to perish in the fire.
The Boston Globe would go on to call our office and interview me over the phone about Stacie. Our entire company, small and close-knit, attended her funeral. She had so many friends, so many people who gravitated to her positive energy. Equally tragic, her fiancé, Michael, completely bereft from losing the love of his life, would later go on to take his own life, drowning himself in a pond a half-mile from Stacie’s parents' house.
Two senseless tragedies.
What could be learned, if anything, from such misfortunes? “Hold your loved ones close, tell those you love how much they mean to you, don’t waste time holding grudges, etc.” We hear these platitudes all the time after a tragedy. But what we won’t ever hear in this life are the answers as to why these things happen. We just move forward. Life goes on, you know.
The next morning, after learning about the tragedy in the news, I found myself frantically calling her cell phone, leaving messages on her voicemail to please call me back at the office. Her phone had been off, and she wasn't working her assigned case. I immediately called my boss, John, and said to him that "I think something is very wrong. Stacie is not answering her phone. She went to that concert last night."
In the aftermath, there was video footage of the fire from inside the club. It turns out that Stacie was at the very front of the stage, in plain view on the video. She was likely among the first to perish in the fire.
The Boston Globe would go on to call our office and interview me over the phone about Stacie. Our entire company, small and close-knit, attended her funeral. She had so many friends, so many people who gravitated to her positive energy. Equally tragic, her fiancé, Michael, completely bereft from losing the love of his life, would later go on to take his own life, drowning himself in a pond a half-mile from Stacie’s parents' house.
Two senseless tragedies.
What could be learned, if anything, from such misfortunes? “Hold your loved ones close, tell those you love how much they mean to you, don’t waste time holding grudges, etc.” We hear these platitudes all the time after a tragedy. But what we won’t ever hear in this life are the answers as to why these things happen. We just move forward. Life goes on, you know.
