May. 1st, 2003

Sinking in

May. 1st, 2003 11:24 pm
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Saturday night, on the way home from the SCA event I was at, the car containing Kristi, George and Cassie was involved in an accident. Cassie is in the hospital, recovering from internal bruising and hairline fractures of 2 vertebrae. Kristi is dead. George is trying to cope, but he had married Kristi in February, and it's breaking his heart.

Kristi was a friend. She was a postdoc in yeast biology at Stanford, until she met George and got married and moved to where he lived--Sacramento. She was looking around for her new job. She was a dancer, a violinist, and archer, a cordial maker, and a hostess for small gatherings. She was neither pretty or ugly, neither large nor small; like one Pratchett character she "had a beauty throughout the ages...her chin would make Caravaggio drop a chisel, and her eyes would have haunted Picasso's dreams" (Paraphrase) "but taken all together...". Her intelligence was never in question, but she didn't get social setups, or more likely couldn't see the use of playing those games. The comment I most remember from her is "Mrph?" at whatever was going on.

Cassie, George and Kristi together represent more education than I care to think of, and more original research in their fields. George is a geologist for the State of California, and has worked for NASA. Cassie works at NASA now, and just had an experiment recovered from the downed shuttle.

George is shattered, spiritually.

THere's an obit in me, trying to be written, and some poetry, that seems rather weak. The storm coming tonight I hope will clear my head so that some of this can express itself, but I doubt it.

Sad...and tired. This makes me very tired. And sad. Be well, if you can.

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