by Carrle Hopkins

Created on: August 13, 2009

Until about three years ago, I just chalked up Friday the Thirteenth as an old myth and a bad movie. But, that all changed one Friday the Thirteenth in February. My son and his friend who were eleven had stayed after school to play basketball in the gym with two young coaches that I taught with at the local junior high. These two young men were always having fun and enjoyed spending time with kids. When they finished we all said our goodbyes and left for home.

One of the coaches was a devoted father and husband who doted on his wife and toddler son. He was a hometown boy and talented young artist. The other young man was in his second year of teaching. He was enthusiastic about his teaching and such a nice, well-mannered young man, also very close to his mom, dad and sister. The junior high kids loved them both.

Later that evening being from a small town of about 2,500, most of the town attended the local high school basketball games. Both of the young men were there, working the clock and keeping the books. In between games, they could be seen cutting up with each other on the sidelines, grinning from ear to ear. As the game ended a light snow had begun to fall, but nothing too bad so my family and I went to a late dinner. As we ate, the snowfall picked up, so after we left the diner, we decided to take the loop around town that paralleled the Interstate to allow the kids to see the beautiful, but rare snow fall. As we came to the last curve, we could see a horrifying wreck in which a tanker truck had hit another vehicle. I told my husband to turn back because I did not want the kids to see what was surely a fatal accident.

An hour later the call came. It was the two young coaches who had lost control on the black ice and hit head-on with the tanker. Both died instantly. They had decided after the game to go get Valentine's presents in the city twenty miles down the Interstate.

Our town lost so much, but their families lost a husband, father, and sons. It was a tough school year to finish.

Then on the next Friday the Thirteenth in February, already such a somber day, tragedy stuck again. Another local family lost their first child to S.I.D.S. The dad's family was a well-known farming family known for their fun-loving and close-knit ways. Again for a town so small everyone was in mourning for this family.

Friday the Thirteenth, especially in February, brings such a sense of foreboding for our small farming community.

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