Helicopter wreck

In 1991 I watched my neighbor die. At the time I did not know I was watching the last moments of someone I knew, who lived within walking distance of the place I ate, showered and laid myself down to sleep each night.  I only knew I had seen a terrible accident and someone, maybe more than one, would not be going home to their loved ones.

The photo below has two red crosses.  The upper one shows where I was standing, and the lower one shows ground zero where the BELL BH-47G2A helicopter crashed.  A building partially blocked my view and those of the people standing with me.  We watched as the helicopter rose into the air, lurched to the side, then seemed to drop sharply to the ground.  We saw a plume of smoke spurt violently into the sky, and fire engines respond to the emergency.

 

One fellow I worked with was a volunteer fireman.  He went to find out the details of the crash.  When he returned he told us the pilot had not survived, and his wife was en route to pick him up at the time of the accident. 

I still had no name for the person who had died in the accident.  I learned the next day our neighbors were preparing for a funeral, as the father of the family had passed away.  No one told me how he had died, no one told me where or when the funeral was and I went to my routine job without knowing what my neighbor had died from.  It took me nearly 15 years to piece together the two stories.

During those years, the wife of the neighbor and his children did many kindnesses for me and my children.  We have reason to be grateful for their existence and their actions on our behalf.  They have been and are a great legacy to his name and his memory.

Deseret News article