I join the universal mourning and sense of incomprehensible loss about the helicopter crash on January 26, 2020. The inestimable grief of loving family members, devoted friends, and an adoring public is beyond articulation. I have read or skimmed countless articles, opinion pieces, and expert analyses about possible crash causes, public devastation, athletic legacy, and the heart-warming tributes from the NBA community.
But notable and talented journalists miss an obvious point. It’s not their fault; it’s a qualification that I wouldn’t visit on anyone. Most of the reporters lack the critical attribute that would give their articles more depth: they have never lost a loved one to a death that didn’t have to happen.
Families who lose members at the capricious hand of fate are bound together; we’ve won the destiny death lottery where the outcome is based solely on random chance. A loved one’s car didn’t have to be at the exact point where a drunk driver crossed the center line. Someone’s daughter wasn’t obligated to stop and help a stranded motorist only to be struck by an on-coming truck. The basketball game didn’t have to be that day, and the weather didn’t have to be foggy. A university professor, father of three young children, wasn’t intentionally assigned to the commuter plane that crashed.
This is not to diminish the excruciating pain that death occasions on every human. Loss is the ultimate unifier that cuts across race, culture, and socioeconomic status. A tragic death by cancer, heart disease, overdose, or suicide is no less searing for those left behind than that which occurs by happenstance. And yet, a death by any other cause than chance obviates the relentlessly repetitive knowledge that our existence is tenuously tied to circumstance.
Our life trajectories are set in motion not just by intention but also by arbitrary occurrences beyond our control or anticipation. We are all traumatized by loss; however, accidental deaths pose unique challenges for the survivors. We are left to grapple with the inescapable understanding that life, or the absence of life, can be a fluke.
We try to reconcile the irreconcilable: that horrible things happen to good people; that misfortune is heaped upon those that don’t deserve it; and that catastrophe is often dealt out in capricious coin tosses. For those of us inducted into the random-chance fraternity, it is the hideous and incessant re-windings of what-ifs that can annihilate us – if we let them.
Sorrow enhances empathy, and devastation creates strength. Survivors of calamity grow, and even flourish, with the knowledge of life’s temporality. If we know that existence is sometimes tethered to randomness it allows us to celebrate the fragile grace of presence. We will eternally re-live the catastrophe in our memory, but it also accentuates our humanity for the misfortunes of others.
To the beloved families of those in the helicopter, know that there is a vast and compassionate community that walks with you and shares your sorrow.