Page 2 - Desert Lightning News So. AZ Edition, April 2019

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April 2019 Desert Lightning News www.aerotechnews.com/davis-monthanafb
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Eyewitness to tragedy; how to deal
by Airman 1st Class ZOIE RIDER
56th Fighter Wing Public Affairs
Tragedy is a part of life. But what can make or break an individual is how they deal with such tragedies.
I grew up in a very small, rural town where you either knew every person or at least knew of them. Dull, flickering street lamps illuminate the streets and the taverns are filled with loud, bellowing laugh- ter of locals, accompanied by the smell of cigarettes. Although our town seems fairly insignificant to most, our cows and cornfields, as well as the tractors we drive to school, are what make it a home.
Small towns are an underappreciated blessing because through the bad and the good, the people in our community come together and support one another. There is never a time when you feel alone because there is always someone looking to take you in and help you find comfort in times of need. Although no one wishes pain or distress on their neighbor, the hard times help bring us together.
One of the most extraordinary things I’ve witnessed living in a small town is how we deal with loss, grief and pain. Whether you know the individual or not, if a major event happens, the entire town feels it collectively.
I can vividly remember the day one of my friend’s life tragically ended at the hands of a reckless, im- paired driver.
Although loss is always difficult, it can be even more so when you’re young. You don’t expect the most vibrant people with contagious smiles and laughs to be the ones that go early. I think they are the ones that hurt the most because not only do you grieve for the memories of your friend, but you grieve for all that could have been.
The morning of the accident was like any other. I woke up and drove to school, eager for the day to be over and the weekend to start. I decided to take a break from my lab and walk outside to get some fresh air and wait for my friend to get to school. As I sat on the bench out front, I looked over to the field of cows across the road and took in the beauty of the
area around me.
I was startled by the screeching of tires and a
deafening, unforgettable sound of a crash. My heart dropped, and my whole body was completely numb. I could no longer see beauty, but instead I could only see the sight of a semi tractor-trailer and what was left of the small, blue SUV my friend had been driving.
I felt as if my brain and my body were incapable of working together, yet somehow I found myself in the dean’s office trying to explain to him what had just happened. The expression on his face was of shock and confusion as we both ran back outside to
another. The school solemnly informed us that our friend and classmate had passed away due to the injuries he sustained. There seemed to be no expla- nation that could console us.
The days that followed were quite somber. For the community, it was one of the hardest months we’ll ever remember. We were all left reeling and grasping for answers, wondering how one man’s selfish and careless act could cause so much pain and suffering to so many people.
I can remember sitting in the very back pew of the church at my friend’s memorial service, surrounded by friends and family, quietly crying and trying
“To all we have lost, thank you for leaving us with so many beautiful memories that make goodbyes so hard. We will love you all forever.”
Airman 1st Class Zoe Rider
56th Fighter Wing Public Affairs
to understand why something so atrocious and heart wrenching could happen to such a beautiful and caring individual. I felt helpless as I watched his mother and father sobbing inconsolably, trying to think of a way to bring them comfort.
It took a long time for our town to heal. We were angry, upset, confused and at a loss for words. We learned how important it is to have people who care and lean on. We learned how important it is to tell people that you love them. We learned to not take our lives for granted
the scene of the crash.
As we reached the vehicles, I saw the man who
had just killed one of my best friends, a sight I will never forget. Rage and hatred consumed me as I watched him stumble around throwing up, unable to stand on his own two feet due to the amount of alcohol in his body, completely unaware of the life he had just taken.
Bloodied snow and shards of glass painted the road where we stood together, overwhelmed with emotions, waiting for the police and ambulance to arrive. I tried my best to comfort my friend as he barely clung to life. The paramedics whisked him away and I was rushed inside to give my statement to the police.
The next few hours were filled with tears, emotions and questions from the police, students and faculty. We sat around quietly, some students left early while others stayed together trying to find comfort in one
because tomorrow is never promised.
You never truly understand the impact someone
has had on your life until he or she is gone. Eventu- ally, with time, it might become easier. You learn to adjust to your new norm, the life you’re forced to live without that person. You find peace with your loved ones and carry them with you as you move forward in your life. You use the emotions you feel as a lesson to live by.
Don’t let your temporary actions permanently affect someone else’s life. The next time you think you’re not too drunk to drive, just take a moment to think about all the consequences that could happen if you’re wrong. If you value your life and the lives of others, do not get behind the wheel.
I encourage Airmen to use resources such as Air- men Against Drunk Driving, the Mental Health Clinic at 623-856-7579, or the chaplain corps at 623-856-6211.
Suicide: Watch out for your wingman
by Col. (Dr.) BRUCE NEELY
446th Airlift Wing
JOINT BASE LEWIS-MCCHORD, Wash. — Six thou- sand seventy-nine. That’s the number of veteran suicides for 2016, the most recent year reported. In some ways it’s just a random number and hard to put into any type of perspective. In many ways it’s sobering, sad, disturbing and disappointing.
One. That’s the number of veteran suicides of former 446th Airlift Wing members in 2019. I’ll give you some perspective on that. It was a friend of mine. A pilot who I flew into a war with. A pilot I helped when he needed a waiver for a medical issue. A pilot who was always upbeat, encouraging and help- ing to others. A pilot who left behind family and hundreds
of friends across the Air Force. In all ways it’s sad, disturbing, hard to comprehend, and yes, disappointing.
There will probably never be answers for the question of why people commit suicide. I deal with suicidal people at my civilian work in the emergency department nearly every day. Many of them have no answer for why they are feeling that way or what led them to that point. Many feel they are a burden on others, and don’t want to go on being a burden. They don’t realize the burden of helping them, be it by those of us in the hospital or by their families and friends, is nothing compared to the burden left behind if they
end their own lives. That burden is much greater and felt by more people. I know that to be true from my own reaction and the reaction of others to the death of our friend. I make it a point to ask, remind and encourage everyone to take care of the people around them, in the squadron and in the wing. That is part of being a good wingman. But, there’s another part to being a good wingman. In the flying community there is a term called lost wingman. That call is made when the wingman loses sight or contact with the lead. The call is made because it’s a serious safety of flight issue to be lost or out of contact. The procedure is to change your direction for a short period of time and then get back into contact and back on heading. There is no shame in
calling lost wingman.
So, you see the other part of being a good wingman is knowing when you’re lost,
and not just in relation to flying. It’s a serious safety of life issue. There is no shame in reaching out for help, asking for help, or letting others know you are lost.
People are concerned it will end their career. It’s not an end, it’s a temporary change in direction until you can make contact and get back on the correct flight path. Remember, there’s a waiver for almost everything, except being dead. There’s no waiver for that.
Pay attention to those around you. If someone seems off, ask them what’s going on. Reach out. Be a good wingman. But if you are lost, don’t hesitate to make that lost wingman call. I don’t want to lose any more friends.
Here is a partial list of resources if you feel lost: Unit commander, first sergeant, your supervisor, your flight or section chief, your flight or section officer in charge, psychologi- cal health, chaplain, emergency departments, Military OneSource (militaryonesource. mil or 800-342-9647), or the National Suicide Prevention Life Line at 800-273-8255.
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