Tragedy reminds us all how important everyone's life is

It was the tears in the eyes of two people I had never met before Monday night that reminded me that everyone is important to someone.

I was making a trip to Fish Creek Road to photograph the charred remains of a trailer that had become a tomb for Jayson Mitchell, his fiance, Brandy Post, and their red-haired five-month-old son, Benjamin.

It's a part of the job at a small-town newspaper that nobody enjoys. It made sense to me that I would be the one to lose sleep that night.

I couldn't find the trailer on my first two attempts so I retreated to the Westmond Store. I was buying a Diet Pepsi and some gum but I was really trying to find someone who could point me in the right direction.

Patti Watts was talking with an older gentlemen about the accident as I entered the store. She was working behind the counter had tears in her eyes as she talked about baby Brandon as a "beautiful, happy baby."

We talked for a short amount of time about Jayson, who had been her neighbor for a time. She told me that when her Shar Pei had puppies, Jayson took the fattest one.

Jayson, Brandy and the new baby were regulars for dinner at the Westmond Store, Patti said.

As I drove around the far side of Cocolalla Lake, I noticed car lights behind me. I slowed to examine the exit from Fish Creek Road that dropped dramatically down to where what remained of the trailer was still out of sight.

I drove past the turnoff to turn around to get a better glimpse of the road. The area was in complete darkness.

"Are you OK?" I said to the young girl who had pulled up next to the turnoff. Her car was turned off.

"I'm looking for my friend," she said. "She lives down here."

I asked the girl what her friend's name was — even though I was afraid of what she was going to say.

"Brandy … Brandy Post," she said. All of the sudden a dark night got darker.

"You didn't hear what happened?" I asked clumsily.

"I heard there was some kind of accident. Is she OK?" she asked.

I don't remember what I said, I'm sure it was a cliche and lame.

Tears. The girl told me she was friends with Brandy and that they had babies about the same time.

I asked her if she wanted to brave the steep, icy road with me to see the trailer. She said no. I drove down to the home and shot pictures. It was later I would notice the charred, red baby carriage in one of the frames.

As I came back up to Fish Creek Road, I noticed the girl was still there.

"Are you OK?" I asked. She didn't answer at first. I suggested she might want to get moving because her car was on the side of a slippery, dark road.

I noticed she still had tears in her eyes as I pulled away, fairly anxious to get home and check in with my wife and two children.

It's tragedies like this that bring the delicate balance of life into sharp focus. It's a reminder of how precious and fleeting life can be.

Tragedies like this also force us to look inward and decide how we are going to respond.

There has been a fund started at Panhandle State Bank to help with the funeral expenses for this family.

I know what I am going to do today.

David Keyes is publisher of the Bonner County Daily Bee.