Scatter Zone

Up until a few weeks ago, I had never given any thought to the concept of a scatter zone.

When you drop a glass, you clean up the broken pieces. You notice many different sizes and shapes of broken glass. The big pieces are carefully picked up and you usually need a broom or vacuum for the small pieces. Now, when I think about that broken glass, I realize there’s a ‘scatter zone’ because it’s not unusual to find a piece of glass a few days later, quite far from where the glass broke. (Oh, and by the way, whenever I’ve broken a glass, I always chose to consider it an omen of good luck. Why not? It’s already broken so I’d much rather think of it as a sign of good luck, instead of getting upset. We always have choices. We get to choose how to look at things.)

The ‘scatter zone’ was talked about in the memorial garden meeting. It’s not something I had ever thought about. Evidence of the crash was found in a large area outside of the actual crash impact zone.  Thankfully, there was no loss of human life on the ground either at the impact zone or the scatter zone. But there was another form of ‘scatter zone’ related to the plane crash. The emotional scatter zone. The emotional effects of the tragedy that were scattered amongst many others, in addition to the family members of the victims.

The plane crash devastatingly shook the small community known as Castlemore. The people living there either saw or heard the plane explode above their homes. Lynne and her family lived in Castlemore. She was 13 years old at the time and she says she will never forget that day for as long as she lives.

“My sister saw the whole thing.”

“I can still hear the sound of the explosions. It was like a nuclear explosion.”

“I can still hear my mother screaming.”

“It was 150 feet from the Burgsmas’ house.”  

Lynne says that the plane crash affected her entire family, and many of the families in her farm community.

“Those involved still suffer from it.”

“We had no choice. We had to carry on with life.”

“The day that it happened, we felt helpless. Emergency vehicles were everywhere. People were walking on our property. They were giving out passes to control access to the area. ”

Yes, there were many others in the emotional scatter zone. Boris was the first photographer on the scene approximately 30 minutes after the plane had crashed. He is 75 years old now, having spent his career as an award winning photographer. With tears in his eyes, Boris told me that his assignments have taken him to many horrific scenes, but this plane crash was worse than any war zone he has ever seen.

For the first time since the plane crash, I have recently begun sharing my personal journey from calamity to triumph. Having opened this door, I have started hearing from many people who were friends with either my mother or one of my sisters. Each of their descriptions of the impact this plane crash had on their lives has left me speechless. I had no idea.

I am finding chunks of broken glass scattered far from where the glass dropped.

When you’re in the whirlwind of a tragedy, you just don’t realize how far and wide the emotional scatter zone actually reaches.