GIRL IN RED

Totally unrelated to the last post, which spoke of a trip to Scotland, but brought to mind by the events of the last few days:

When we were traveling on our tour bus in Scotland, our route took us late in the day past the town of Lockerbie. We did not stop; there was no sightseeing. We merely rode the highway as we had so many others, gazing out the windows, reflected and reflecting.

We sat speechless, one and all, in the unaccustomed silence, giving the landscape our entire respect and attention. No one spoke, no one slept, no one read or slouched or sighed in boredom. Even the tour guide whose bright wit and merry disposition gave us all so many fun moments was solemn, sitting quietly and hazing down his voice to the timbre of a golf announcer, as he occasionally called our attention to a sign or a building or a memorial.

He spoke of moments, of people, of shock and sorrow and healing, and we absorbed the dignity of the time with quiet respect.

And I remembered reading of the little Girl in Red, who became the small innocent icon for the tragedy, as she was remembered by a fellow passenger from a previous flight:

"To the little girl in the red dress who lies here who made my flight from Frankfurt such fun. You didn't deserve this. God Bless, Chas."

I cannot speak for anyone else, but for the memory of that one little child, and all those who perished with her, I echo:

You didn’t deserve this.