After my brother’s birthday lunch me, my sister-in-law, my mother and my partner took a ride to an Asian grocery store my sister-in-law wanted us to see. Afterwards, we decided to take the long way home, as usual, since we like to explore CT’s back roads, and it was a beautiful day. I was in CT from Long Island, where I live.
I was driving, heading down Route 165 and had just crested a hill. A young man was in the road, waving me around what looked like a motorcycle part. I slowed. Took in the scene. A few parts were strewn across my path. Time stopped. A hush fell. The man waving me through looked as if he was in shock. His waving was haphazard, as if he wasn’t sure what he should be telling us to do.
A black jacket was oddly hanging from high in a tree. How did it get there? How could it have gotten so high up there? I looked at other branches, nothing else hanging from the limbs. I look into the waving guys face. It seems he is going to approach the car but he is frozen to the spot he’s standing in, making sure no one runs over the cycle parts. His body turns slightly towards the side of the road. My sister-in-law sobs in the back seat. My mother says, “Oh no”.
A woman jogger with a Nano strapped to her arm stands to the left, shock etched on her face. A deafening silence permeates the air. “Cathedral-like quiet”, I think. So quiet. A hush. Time stretched to slow-motion as reality reveals itself to me. I see a young man, face down. Body broken, so damaged. My mind tells me he cannot be alive. I know this intellectually. My heart says, “Maybe. Maybe he is so hurt he’s unconscience.”
My heart says, “Pray.” I pray; Please God, let him live. Stay with him. Please. I can see he is young. My son just turned 24 and I do not want to face what this boy’s family will have to face, so, please God, help him. Save him. Stay with him until the police and medics come. Just help him to breathe until help arrives. I send my prayer to God, and his family. I know there is nothing I can do. The young man waving me on…his eyes are telling me, “Just go!”, and I do as the Trooper arrives. My eyes meet the joggers eyes. I see in her eyes the boy is not alive.
Later, at night, trying to close my eyes and not replay the scene over and over. Knowing in my heart he could not have lived. Praying that God comfort his family. Wondering what they are doing at this moment. Sending my prayer of comfort to them, and to the man who stood guard over the boy. Thanking his guardian for being with him as he left on another journey, on another winding road, on a sunny, peaceful day with Jesus as his guide. March 7, 2009.
Kenneth Troy, 23 years old. God Bless and keep you always.
http://www.norwichbulletin.com/motorcycles/x2081094941/Family-friends-remember-23-year-old
Triage 
This young man, Troy, was my younger brother that I unfortunately did not get the chance to know well in life. His sisters that did get the pleasure of knowing him thank you for your prayers I am sure.
You are welcome. I think of Troy often, and of his family. I am sorry for his loss. Tess