Empty Chairs at the Table
Dave Smith has been an Industrial Maintenance Electrician since 1975. He has taught maintenance, troubleshooting and safety courses to thousands of electricians in mines, mills, refineries, factories, plants, power stations and offshore platforms throughout North America and the Middle East. Dave is a hands-on guy and teache...
I write this column following two of the most brutal weeks I’ve ever experienced. On a Monday night in Northern Cape Breton, five teenagers were travelling in a minivan, when Ainsley, 16, swerved to miss a fox, went off the road and hit a tree. Ainsley and Noah, 14, died instantly.
Canada Training Group is a small, connected company and these children were related to one of our Cape Breton staff; Noah the son of a first cousin; Ainsley, a sister’s step-daughter. Two others, Alannah, 16, and her brother Logan, 13, went into intensive care in Halifax; Alannah with her vertebrae cracked in four places, and Logan with bleeding on the brain. The fifth child, Jesse, called 911 and, refusing to leave, stayed for four hours comforting Alannah and Logan.
Cape Breton is an amazing place for many reasons but mostly for its people. The fabric of their society has been woven over the centuries with people interconnected throughout the island and further. When the fabric tears anywhere, it ripples everywhere. The Cape Breton map reveals the small, close community of Ingonish, Dingwall and Neil’s Harbour that are equally close in friendship.
With only 200 students, their entire school – classmates, teammates, friends – grieved the loss of Ainsley and Noah. You can imagine communities in tears as Noah’s wake was Thursday evening, Noah’s funeral Friday afternoon, Ainsley’s wake Friday evening, and Ainsley’s funeral Saturday – all overlaid by the fact that nobody yet knew the results that would come from Halifax.
Every parent reading this article will know and understand the horror that the children’s parents and stepparents – Marjorie, Frankie, Amanda, Michael, Robin and John – experienced upon hearing of the death of their children, as well as the fear of Danita and Robert for their children in Halifax.
Those were dark, terrible days of indescribable sorrow – and it was not over yet.
The following Friday my wife rushed to the hospital with her children. Their father, at the age of 55, had a massive, fatal heart attack. A bit out of shape, stressed and worried over harvest, his life also ended too early and abruptly. Robert was a remarkable father; amazing in his connectedness and devotion to his children. Sarah, 22, and Bruce, 16, have also had their hearts ripped out of them.
But it wasn’t over yet as that same night a very dear friend, Shirley, passed away after surgery at 59, giving us two more funerals. Shirley was a devoted aunt and wonderful friend for many.
The sorrow of these other tragedies will be felt for decades as future harvests and Thanksgivings will be celebrations wrought with sadness. Even as I try to write this, the tears are flowing freely, and I have to stop continuously.
I write this column to give you a moment to think about your actions. I hope they can be used in your safety meetings or drive changes in your procedures and safe work practices. In a physical world, it is so easy to make a mistake. After years of working around machinery, my friend Ken, 58, got too close and was instantly mangled. We try to guard everything, but we humans are hard to guard.
Birth and death are the bookends of life; birth defines its wonder, death defines its value and both move us equally. So look around your dinner table and imagine the horror of tomorrow’s empty chair, and the horror should it be your chair that’s vacant. Robert’s death has been a wakeup call for many of our community who are a little out of shape, prone to worry, or over-stressed.
For me, it prompted me to clarify my will, create a health directive dictating when I should be unplugged, powers of attorney for my property and affairs, and several personal letters. If you do not make your intentions clear, there will be painful confusion on a list of misinterpretations.
Rest in peace Ainsley, Noah, Robert and Shirley.
Until next time, be ready, be careful and be safe.©