Such a long trip back from NYC. Just outside the city was the wreckage of a major Metro North train accident that occurred on Sunday morning. The train was traveling at 82 miles per hour around a curve when it should only be going 30. Four people died and over sixty were injured, many of them critically. One father was paralyzed while his son, who was sitting right next to him, walked away with scratches. We slowly passed the engine that had just been uprighted. The cars were strewn across the curve only a few feet from the Amtrak tracks we were riding on. Their engineer had fallen asleep.
I can't help but think. Why am I still here? How much of life and death is luck? Laurie and I narrowly missed the tornado two weeks ago. Our train engineer stayed awake. Why did poor Glenn die so quickly of a staph infection? Why didn't Evan get the job he wanted so much?
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