This past weekend my sister came home for a visit. As she walked in, she immediately started to cry. She had seen a 21-year-old die. My sister is an EMT and works on an ambulance. She usually has been able to keep that separation needed to do her job, but today she couldn't.

Apparently a college student had something to drink and thought that climbing on a greenhouse was a good idea. But there was one problem: this glass could not support a 21-year-old male, especially one affected by alcohol. The glass broke and he fell into a pile of glass. Landing on his back, he received life-threatening injuries. He was discovered when an alarm sounded and was brought to the hospital. Unfortunately this hospital wasn't equipped to handle this kind of trauma. This is where my sister was called in. She and her partner were given the job of transferring him to a facility that could save his life, but he never made it to the other hospital; he died en route.

Though my sister had never met him, she was shaken. His parents got a call the next morning saying that their son was dead. The next question they were probably asked was whether he would be an organ donor. Why must all this pain come over senseless drinking?

Worst of all, as soon as he died he became a statistic. I am one who can be angry that we, as a society, allow this and then brush it off as part of life. Without this experience, I very likely would have said "Too bad" and gone on my way. But I no longer go through a single day without thinking about this kid. Why must death be the only way to produce a reaction? tf