Death of students provokes soul searching

By Ashley Ritchie

Last week the lives of three young boys and a middle-aged man were drastically cut short. For his birthday, one of the boys was given a surprise airplane ride to Moro Rock in Sequoia National Park with his two best friends. The three freshmen, who all attended my old high school and church, did not make it to see the rock. Instead, the single engine Piper Cherokee that they were riding in crashed into trees and ended up in a ravine, just south of Moro Rock, killing all of them.

A friend at home told me about this accident when it happened last Saturday. At that time, the plane was still missing and would not be found in the national forest until the following Wednesday. As the events unfolded, I began to realize that I was truly affected by this tragedy even though I only knew the victims through a friend of a friend.

As the search continued for the missing individuals, I asked myself why something like this would ever happen. These boys had their entire lives to live; they hadn't even driven a car or gone to the prom yet. It just didn't seem fair. I realized how hard it is to have faith in trying times such as these.

The father of one of the missing boys was quoted by the Fresno Bee as saying, "The Lord took him for a reason. Of course the human side of me feels like part of my heart has been yanked out." Of course it does. My heart feels as if it has been yanked out and I was not even close to any of the boys.

When I hear a reaction such as this from a father who has just lost his 15-year-old son it allows me to put these types of tragic situations in perspective. For those of us left on earth, it is an ending. But for the young boys who died, it was a glorious beginning.

From all of the profound soul-searching I have partaken in over the past couple of weeks, I have realized just how absolutely special the gift of time is. Except for some cases, it is rare when we know when our time or the time of a loved one will come.

I can only speak for myself when saying this, yet I have a good idea that this will apply to many of you reading as well. I have gone throughout life generally concerned about one thing: myself. I am constantly thinking about the fact that I have to get good grades because I have to get a good job, and I have to find my spouse within five years because I have to begin having my children by the age of 29.

What frightens me the most is that one day I am going to be interrupted in the midst of my "I have to" thinking by an alarming phone call that tells me I have lost someone dear. What then? I will have lost all of the chances I once had to share special moments with them, all because I was so wrapped up in making sure my life would turn out how I wanted.

Or the possibility still stands that I might not even get as far as thinking about my job or kids. I am not even certain that I will make it to tomorrow. I would have spent all of my time worrying about the future when all of the sudden it became evident that I never had one in the first place and the meaning of my life had already been revealed. What time I had wasted with all of my self-centered thinking.

I suppose what I am trying to say is never take anything or anyone for granted. I am sure that on April 10, 2002, the day before the four individuals were killed, they were not thinking that they needed to tell everyone how much they love them. They had no idea what was in store for them, and neither do we. Just as Heaven came knocking on their door earlier than they expected, so too can it for us. We are never guaranteed one more day. Therefore, tonight, before you go out or do whatever it is that your busy life requires of you, pick up the phone and call your parents or maybe your brother who is getting married in two months and no longer going to be around as much (or perhaps that is just me) and tell them how much you love them.

I know that I want my family to know how I thank the Lord every night that I have them, support who has allowed me to accomplish everything I have. I would want them to know that if I had to choose between giving up my life or losing one of them, I would choose mine in a heartbeat.

I could never tell them how deeply I feel for them, but I sure don't want to feel as if I missed the opportunity to at least try.