Fifteen years. Wow.

Fifteen years ago a bus carrying kids from a church youth group and their chaperones back from the amusement park Kings Island were hit by a drunken driver near Carrollton, Ky. Several of the people on board died. Others survived, bearing scars from the burns. I remember a couple of the spouses of those killed eventually married, partly because they understood each other's pain. It remains one of the worst school bus accidents/drunk driving accidents in the country. Laws were enacted in response to it; M.A.D.D. (Mothers Against Drunk Driving) and S.A.D.D. (Students Against Drunk Driving) groups popped up everywhere. The driver spent 9 1/2 years in prison. I think he turned his life around, but at a terrible cost. I can't imagine living every day knowing I was responsible for something like that.

I remember that day, mainly because I'd been at Kings Island, too. It had been a long and horrible day. A security guard had threatened to throw the two guys I was with out of the park for holding hands. No one else had been singled out, even a long line of high school kids who blocked everyone walking down the causeway, with about ten linked arm and arm, and not everyone boy-girl. We'd only ridden about three rides, but at that point the fun evaporated. We stayed for awhile but had driven back to Lexington early feeling that we'd been cheated. I called to complain and was told that no one was allowed to hold hands in the park--even if I were a mother with a child I would be in violation of the rules. For years I wouldn't set foot in the park. I finally went with friends later only because Paramount had bought it and I'd called ahead and was assured that there was no longer any such policy.

Somehow, though, that all paled when we watched the news of the bus crash. I know it's silly, but it seemed more real because we'd travelled much the same route. My dad's family is from Northern Kentucky. Carrollton's not that far away from Owenton. I once took a wrong turn onto the Interstate and passed the sign commemorating the crash. People around here felt, in some small way, a little like the nation did after September 11th. Innocence was lost. People were left wondering what meaning could be found in so many senseless deaths.

I admire what the survivors have done with their lives. Some are outspoken against drunken driving and the need for safety regulations and laws. Several of the survivors are commorating this anniversary in Washington to discuss these very things. This is all the remarkable because several had severe burns, including on their faces. I am not sure if there is anything more socially crippling than a facial difference. I admire their fortitude. But mostly, I think they've just gone on with their lives, with all its ups and downs. Sometimes, that's the hardest thing of all, but it's the most important, don't you think?