Wednesday, June 19, 2002

Triumph, tragedy

Best day ever: My 12-year-old nephew Andrew is a little tank of a kid, big-boned and not very tall. Somewhat shy, and would rather play with the insides of a television than throw a ball. His dad has been working with him on his hitting, and in last Saturday's Little League game he nailed that sucker:



First home run ever for that game's MVP. You've never seen anybody smile so big, for so long.

Then came Sunday, with Andrew sitting in evening services with his best friend Jonathan. Afterward, leaving the building, Jonathan trips and falls down the long church stairs, out into the four-lane highway, where he's instantly killed by an oncoming car. Everyone, the dad, my nephew, everyone saw it happen.

How on earth does a 12-year-old recover from this? I have no idea.

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