Death At Christmas

The Silly Season is with us again. The time when people spend a fortune on presents they can't afford, and eat far too much.

The time of the year when families gather together to spend quality time and enjoy themselves.

For others it's the saddest time of the year when they sit alone and remember, or are hospitalised. And for any more, it's the time to remember the death of a loved one killed by car accident. The latter is one I think of alot.

I recall one Christmas many years ago when my late husband and I were travelling home from shopping.

It was a warm evening, the sky enriched with vivid colours of the setting sun and we were chatting about the lovliness of Christmas when suddenly, running up the middle of the highway were two screaming, frantic teenagers who ran in front of the car to stop us.

We had slowed to a halt with their hands on the bonnet as incoherently they tried to tell us there had been a car accident and pleaded our help.

It seemed they had been running for miles. Sweat poured down their young faces and both panted for breath.

We told them to jump in the car and take us to the accident scene immediately.

Horror of horrors, we pulled up at a fatal scene where one teenager lost her life and the other young 18 year old boy laid dying in his brothers arm. His scalp split in two.

The car they had been travelling in was small, but powerful with a small steering wheel. They were from Melbourne on holiday and did not know how to drive on country roads. The driver, seeing no traffic had tested the speed of the car, hit deadly loose gravel and lost control sending the car and it's occupants sommersaulting over a hidden water channel and rolling, rolling, rolling through a paddock.

There was nothing left of the car. It was a heap of scrap.

My husband found one young teenage girl dead beside a water channel, obviously, she had been thrown out in some way.

The girls who had stopped us had been travelling in another car behind the death machine and were witness to what had occured.

It was no time before the air was so filled with mosquitoes one could almost breathe them in.

The nearest farm was a few kilometers away, my husband headed for it to use the phone.

It was a shamozzle. The Ambulance and Police got lost and turned off on another highway which sent them screaming down another road only to have to turn around and come screaming to an electric halt beside the accident scene.

Nothing could be done for the young boy. We heard the scream of "NOOOOOOO!!!" signifying his brother's death from his older brother who held him in his arms until death. We heard his tears, heard his anguish, and heard his heart break.

It became dark as we searched for other victims while the dead girl was placed in the Ambulance. Finding none, we restarted our search. A body could be in the channel, or in the dense cumbungi in the channel.

Soon, I heard cries of a different kind above all the din and saw a figure trying to come through the tall water weeds.
It was the driver. I could see he had a broken spine from the way he was trying to walk and tried to force him to lay straight and flat on the earth. But, he could not hear me due to shock.

Soon, ambulance medicals had him strapped on a stretcher and lifted into the ambuance.

But being the only woman at the scene it was my job to comfort the grieving.

It was when the young boy died the anger started. Heart wrenching tears came from the older brother who refused to let medicals take his body while the girls screamed words of hatred and abuse at his "murderer", the driver who did not hear a word.

While they let it all flow I approached the young man holding his dead brother and laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked at me and said " He didn't want to come! He wanted to stay home! Why is he dead? WHY?"

I could not answer as there was no answer. And my tears mingled with his as we gazed at one another. Then he collapsed sobbing into my arms as medicals took the young body away. Together we sat on the earth sobbing because there were no words ....

The smell of blood filled the air and mosquitoes had a field day. We were all covered in blood. I can never forget the blood - human blood.

And somewhere in Melbourne, two mothers were yet to be notified that their children were dead. Their bodies far from home.

Christmas gifts which would never be unwrapped .......