By Scott Brian Blanke
Then: A curving road, majestic trees, a deep ravine. Now: A dangerous road warning sign ahead, and a metal guard rail.
Then: Yelling voices and screaming sirens. Now: Birds and butterflies flutter quietly around.
Then: Valiant medical personal, grieving spiritual counselors. Now: Wilted dead flower bouquets, dirty yellow ribbons, a final memorial.
Then: A phone call in the middle of the night. Now: Rapid heartbeat every time a phone rings.
Then: Posing for hammed-up pictures. Now: Tear-covered fading photos.
Then: A heart breaking. Now: A heart breaking.
Then: Happy teenagers going to prom. Now: A daughter who will never come home.
Unique expression through touching images. Now it is nice, Scott.
I am a retired surgeon. Happened way to often.
Very powerful. I’m a nurse and can resonate.
This is exceptionally well-written and saddening.
Touching story. Liked the picture presented in the Then and Now format.
Editorial comment: “personal“ should be “personnel” in the third paragraph.
Thank you. Surgeons do not know how to spell. I am a true example of this phenomenon.
I like the author’s use of form to contrast two timelines, showing life before and after a fire, and share a consequence of the event.
I’m confused by the order of events in the “Then” timeline.
I want to read what this writer offers next.
Really well constructed and made me want to keep reading to understand. Only understood the significance at the very end and then had to read it again. Very powerful.