Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


6 Comments

DC prep

I’m getting ready for my trip to DC this week where we’ll be filming a video about the Truck Safety Coalition.  My part of it deals with our outreach efforts.  I’ve been writing answers to potential questions, getting the feel for the words, figuring out how I might say something, working on impact.

Can I practice on you?  These are not the exact questions, I haven’t been provided those yet…but this is the topic and the areas that will be covered.  And this is my first attempt at trying to explain the importance of our outreach piece.  Yes we work on changing laws and getting new rules issued.  But we also work at finding the families touched by truck crashes and offering them support.

So here goes:

Why is it important to reach out to families?

These families have been, without warning, thrust into a world filled with pain and grief.  They aren’t prepared, and everything is confusing.  The heartache is unbelievable.  Most don’t know what they should do first, where they should focus.  It’s all they can do to get through each day, one moment at a time.

While they are in the initial stages of shock and grief they don’t realize there are things they may need to do to preserve evidence, to help them later when they face the court system and the truck company. They are focused on their loved one, whether it’s to prepare a funeral, or help them begin the long road back to health.    We provide them information if they want it, resources if they need them, and most importantly, a listening ear, a hug, support from someone that’s been in a similar position.

What is special about the Sorrow to Strength Conference?

The Sorrow to Strength Conference, held every other year,  is a place where  survivors and families of truck crash victims can gather and share.  We honor our lost loved ones, we support the injured and we provide hope for those families just beginning the long journey.

We spend the weekend connecting with other families and learning how to make changes in the industry, either through legislation or governmental safety agencies.  Most families have had no political experience, so this is all new and somewhat intimidating. The conference helps to introduce victims and families to ways they can make a difference.  There is a universal feeling among families who attend the conference; they want changes made so that another family doesn’t have to go through what they are going through.

The conference identifies key truck safety priorities, and arranges for families to meet with their state’s legislative offices to discuss safety issues.   The conference also arranges meetings with members of the Department of Transportation, the Federal Motor Carriers Safety Administration, National Highway Transportation Safety Administration and the National Transportation Safety Board.  These are all important agencies with safety oversight responsibilities.

Sometimes people in Washington forget that there are faces on statistics.  When 4,000 people die in truck related crashes each year it can be hard to focus on individuals.  The Sorrow to Strength conference allows Truck Safety volunteers, comprised of families who have borne the brunt of these tragedies, to bring the statistics back to human scale.  When five or six of us sit in a meeting room, holding our loved ones pictures, and each of us tells the short version of our story, one after another, the impact is unforgettable.  Administrators who have been working on studies and research look us each in the eye and realize that safety has to be their number one priority.  Without the conference none of us would have access to these people, or an opportunity to tell our stories to such high ranking officials.

What do these outreach programs mean to a family who has experienced a loss?

I can speak from my own experience.  When Dad was killed in 2004 we were suddenly alone in a crazy world that we didn’t understand.  Truck Safety gave us direction, told us what to look for in a lawyer, what to do first to preserve evidence.  And as we moved through the process they helped us to understand what to expect from each step and how to prepare for it.     I don’t know what we would have done without them.

For other families, the connection with a Truck Safety volunteer may provide a safe place, maybe the only safe place they have, for them to express their grief no matter what.  When the rest of the world has moved on and a family member feels like they should ‘be over it’ the volunteer will tell them that it’s OK to grieve.  It’s OK to feel bad.  That someday they won’t feel so bad, but for now whatever they are feeling is right, and no they are not going crazy.

Truck Safety Outreach programs help families get through the sorrow and move toward strength.  Every family wants to make a difference, and through Truck Safety they can.  Unfortunately it is inevitable that there will be new families joining us this year and every year.    Our goal is to try to find those families and to let them know that they are not alone.    It’s the way we can make a difference.

And it’s the way we honor those we loved and lost.


13 Comments

Contemplating too much

The sidewalk last week.

I got out of the office for about 30 minutes today at lunch.  We’ve been so busy, but it was jean day and I was already wearing running shoes…so no excuses not to get my walk in.  Most of the week I’ve been trapped in my cubicle.

As I walked (with camera of course) I noticed how much the color has faded since my walk earlier this week,and certainly since last week’s walks.

Trees reaching for the last bit of warmth.

Still, it was pretty.

I was thinking about how stressed I am at work, and how busy I am there and outside of work.   I’m headed to Washington next week for a couple of days to do a little truck safety stuff.  And I’ve registered Katie for a Rally trial near the end of the month, a couple of days before the community band’s first concert.

Small groves of trees watch me walk by.

Someone at work, learning I’d be out of the office for a couple of days next week, wanted to know how I did it…he said every time he talked to me I was off doing something else.  And a couple weeks ago Bruce’s uncle asked me if I was doing too much.  Something to think about I guess, and it’s not like I haven’t considered letting some stuff go before.

Walking and thinking.

But still.  All these extras are the joyful aspects of life.  Who could give up that moment during a concert when it all comes together and something beautiful emerges?  So few people get to experience that.

And when Katie sits at attention next to my left ankle waiting expectantly, and moves seamlessly with me as I call “HEEL!”and pivot to the right, all the while grinning at me…well…who wants to give that up?

Trees and clouds shot with the ‘dramatic’ setting.

And the opportunity to go to DC and make a tiny bit of difference, to know your efforts and those of your family and friends have saved lives.  Well.  It’s not possible to give that up.  At all.

Looking for answers.

In the end I finished my short walk with no solution.  It’s not the extras I want to walk away from.  It’s the work that consumes me for so many hours each day.  But I know I have to wait my turn for retirement.  Mom used to tell me that when I complained about work.

Ok.  I’ll wait.  But I’m making a list of stuff I want to do once I have my freedom.  And it’s getting pretty darn long.

Walking toward the future.


3 Comments

Happy Birthday Janelle

This beautiful evening, the sky filled with huge puffy clouds, I traveled through small towns and farmlands to attend the 21st birthday party for a young woman named Janelle.  Her best friend from high school put together the celebration held at a restaurant in a small town owned by her father called “Janelle’s Family Restaurant.”

Her mother, father and her grandmother were there, along with other relatives and many of her friends.  There were balloons, a buffet, a cake.  But the guest of honor was not there, though her portrait hung above the fireplace.   Janelle was killed five years ago when the family car, stopped in a traffic jam caused by a semi driver up ahead, was hit from behind by another semi.  Janelle was in the back seat.  She was sixteen and an only child.

Tonight her school friends showed her parents that they have not forgotten Janelle.  Though they have moved on with their lives, some have married, had children, are in college or working, they still hold Janelle and her family in their hearts.  I found that so mature for people that would have been just children themselves when Janelle died.

Tonight there were balloons and cake.  There were hugs and stories.  And there were smiles, but the smiles were restrained.  Because Janelle wasn’t there.  I never met Janelle, don’t know what she might have done with her life if she had been allowed to live it.  But I can tell you that she has awesome friends.  And that tells me she was pretty awesome herself.

So Janelle.  If you were floating up there with those beautiful clouds tonight I hope you know what joy your friends have brought to your folks tonight and over the years.  And how much they all miss and love you.  I hope, too, that you understand when I say I wish I  never met them.  It’s not because they aren’t all pretty wonderful.  It’s because I wish with all my heart that you could have been at your 21st birthday tonight.

Happy Birthday Janelle.  And hugs to your parents.


6 Comments

Music and trucks

Last night I attended a benefit concert in Ann Arbor.  It was a fund raiser to help defray costs incurred by the families of two young people severely injured when their car was rear ended by a semi last week.  (You can read about the crash here.)  Andrew and Alicia are engaged and plan to be married next June.  They are both gifted musicians, and the concert, put together by some of their friends and groups they have played with over the years, was a show of pure love.

They played in a tiny venue that would comfortably hold about 50 people.  I couldn’t count the people there, but the crowd was huge.  Most people stood, packed together, for the entire hour and a half concert.  The windows wouldn’t open and it was hot but no one cared.  Sweat mixed with tears on the faces of the musicians as well as the families.  Lots of us listened with tears in our eyes too.  From the Schubert piano piece, through the cello, the viola, the Argentine guitar, to the Irish band that Andrew preformed with and the folk/jazz group that played songs he had written – it was all beautiful.

I wrote down the chorus of one of Andrew’s songs  because it seemed so relevant at the moment.  The song is a plea to Jesus to answer a young man’s request for a fancy car and a girl:

“I’ve been there for you

When you wanted me to

Please return this one

Jesus don’t run.”

It’s a plea I echo…because if love and music could cure them, these two would be up and dancing in the aisle.  But it’s going to take so much more.  Both have brain injuries, both are mostly unresponsive, both are still in a coma.  We need a pair of miracles here.

The last piece of music played was written by Andrew and is called Lady Lake Michigan.  It talks about missing Lady Lake Michigan’s embrace, the feel of the sand and the water.  The last line, repeated over and over…

“Let me come home.  Let me come home.”

Please God; if you heard the music last night, please let them both come home.