Earlier today I learned that a girl I went all through school with was involved in an awful incident. Last week, her estranged husband shot her and kidnapped their 9-year-old son. Over the weekend, the husband was killed when he was hit by a bus in Mexico; the boy was found in a nearby church and was due to be reunited with his mother yesterday. She is said to be doing well after being shot in the eye, chest and stomach, although she will probably lose her eye. She and I got along all right as kids, though I would never have described us as friends; after elementary school, I don't think I ever had another class with her and we became no more than "hi-bye" acquaintances. She was elected Homecoming Queen our senior year. I doubt she'd even remember me, but she was one of those shining, lucky, blessed kids I could never forget, no matter how little we meant to one another.
Clearly, terrible things can happen even to the lucky ones.