One of the spontaneous activities that grew out of my motorcycle ride to Bella Coola was to stop and ponder at the numerous roadside memorial sites.
I recognized now weeks later it was like a cumulative stress reaction that I needed to intuitively shift towards resolution or move it forward in my own mind/body/experience.
At each site I took care to observe and find meaning in the organization of what objects were left at the site. I wanted to give each site a moment of silence and then at the end of my visit I would select an object to take with me to the ocean. I was careful in selecting each object to ensure that I was not removing part of the memorial. Most of the time it was a rock or a stick that was native to the geography. The few exceptions I had selected a piece of the vehicle wreckage that was non descript or anonymous.
One can't help notice these memorials on this highway. I was curious why most of these were not contained in my memory with my trip with Baxter.
As I looked at all the dates on the crosses, it turns out that except for one, all of these deaths had happened since Baxter and I had made this journey. It is difficult for me to comprehend the collective grief and anguish that is connected to these spots on the highway.
I am curious how many contain the same elements. The symbolism of the cross, the name prominently displayed along with the dates of birth and death. The sites for me feel like a cry for help.
I reflected on September 11, 2001 and how I felt as a professional crisis responder. I felt compelled to do something, to reach out and try to make a contribution to assist in the recovery process. At the time I had just started working at the hospital and I knew the impact that one death had on the village surrounding the loved one. What does one do when the villages collide and multiple deaths occur at one time, or in the case of this highway, when multiple deaths occur over a period of 10 years? Is there something that I can suggest to try and shift the narrative?
It is easy to understand how these sites can grow and become contagious. However, I wonder what happens to people's experience as time passes. It was noticeable that some of these sites are frequently visited. Who is the mysterious caretaker within the family network? What happens when this person no longer takes the time to visit as frequently and clean up the garbage? Who claims ownership of these sites? What happens when there are competing interests on how the site should look?
These sites can be part of a complex haphazard ritual. What happens when trauma becomes the driving force within the ritual? How does the healthy family/friends communicate with the traumatized visitors. Is there middle ground to communicate? We know when the gathering occurs shortly after death the structure of the process can contain all the elements necessary to help shift the narrative from being stuck to introducing a seed of hope or change or opportunity of future.
If the funeral celebrant is experienced they can weave together all the ingredients and create something palatable regardless of the nature of the traumatic death. The memorial becomes a milepost on their path through grief. Conversely if the roadside site is maintained by the peers who do not have the maturity or experience then these sites become a neon marker that they are stuck.
What do you see here?
Over time the site can take on a more simple focus.
This site was the most dramatic one that spoke to me in a unique way. It took on a schizophrenic quality of containing separate elements of the story. I was curious if both friends and family maintained this site. It was clear that the memorial site had strong elements of peer culture, while the crash wreckage contained harsh reality of the event. The finality and the twisted graphic mechanism of injury were obvious. I noticed that in both sites there was an alcohol theme. Was someone trying to reach out to the surviving young people and persuade them to be mindful of what happens when you drink and drive?
Do these type of interventions actually produce tangible change in future behavior or is it a way that paternal role models can feel like they are trying to make a difference. Creating some semblance of life from a site where death is all that one experiences.
Many hospitals and schools have a joint program called the PARTY program where they introduce high school students to the reality of drinking and driving. First responders including nurses, paramedics, police and firefighters interact with students and present realistic consequences in hopes that a kid won't drink and drive or step into a vehicle with a friend who has been drinking and seek an alternative way home.
I then contrast these roadside memorials to Baxter's crash site. His site to me was never about memorializing the tragedy of his death. I frantically tried to shift the narrative. I wanted to clean up the carnage and remove it from the site. My goal was to shift the focus from his death to what he would be doing if he were still on this earth. The shoe provided such a narrative, the idea of him still traveling to concerts with his peeps, hanging out on a Friday night and doing all the things kids do these days.
