Last week,
across the Netherlands school bags dangled from flag poles above many front
doors. This quirky habit broadcasts to the neighborhood that a kid has just
graduated high school. It also signals the start of the school holidays, when
families pack up and head off.
Flags are
again flying In the Netherlands this week.
They hang at half mast on public buildings to memorialize the 193 Dutch
men, women and children who had headed off to Asia, but died when their plane
was shot down over the Ukraine by a missile.
The
Netherlands is a small country, just 17 million. There are cities in the world
with larger populations. Here suffering
193 dead is comparable to a loss of 4,100 lives in a country to size of the US.
So it was inevitable that I would know
someone or know of someone who knew someone on board. And so it was. Within an
hour a friend called to tell me she had lost a colleague who was traveling with
children. Next a family member reported the same. Thus a national – no international-- tragedy unfolding
in some far off place quickly assumes the character of “up close and personal.”
This event has affected us all.
Thoughtful
friends living abroad have called and written expressing their condolences. I
don’t deserve them, thank goodness. My loved ones are safe and accounted for.
But I accept these simple acts of kindness because we must foster
kindness. There is so much hate in the
world. It swirls around like some invisible, toxic radiation. It can reach 10 kilometers (35,000 feet) above
the Earth’s surface to snuff out the lives of men, women, and children, who,
oblivious to its existence, were just “passing through” on their way to do good
or just have fun.
I am old
enough to remember a time when getting onto a plane was glamorous, even
thrilling. Into my hand luggage went an
embroidery canvas, needles, thread and, yes, scissors, to while away the hours
between Amsterdam and places my employer sent me. Other women in the cabin knitted. How times
have changed. And not for the better. Sharp objects and many other things, too, are
now banned on board as potential weapons. The list grows. I accept this as a necessary
precaution. Yet, this week the fate of 300 souls on MH-17 demonstrated that
despite all the technological improvements to aircraft, despite increased security
precautions of all sorts, flying long haul is not a calculated risk, it is a deadly
gamble.
I am glad that you were not directly affected by this terrible incident, Anna Maria. But as you say, everyone in your country is feeling the pain and outrage, and many others around the world as well. The news reports are not encouraging, but let's hope for some justice, nevertheless.
ReplyDeleteBedankt weer voor deze hersenspinsels. Het begin interessant, het einde toch wel verdrietig. Ook ik ben oud genoeg om me mijn eerste vliegtocht te herinneren. Uitgedost in een mantelpak, high heels en een truttig tasje. Wat voelde ik mij opgelaten. Zo ging het, toen. Nu is het een bijna gewoon vervoermiddel geworden. Maar ook een doelwit zoals bleek. Ook ik kende 2 mensen, niet goed maar toch.......... het is alsof je een klap op je hoofd krijgt. En nog steeds zijn we met de slachtoffers bezig, in gedachten. Hele gezinnen, soms zelfs 5 personen groot, komen niet meer terug, nooit meer. Opa's en oma's zijn hun kinderen maar ook hun kleinkinderen voorgoed kwijt. Lege huizen. Hoe moeten zij verder. Ik denk daar toch maar liever niet te veel aan. Angst bekruipt me. Waar moet het heen met deze wereld. De wreedheid die ons dagelijks voorgeschoteld wordt op tv. In kleur, soms zelfs bijna life. Dan is onze hobby, borduren, het rustpunt om weer even tot onszelf te komen.
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