Though Dead, They Yet Speak

Yesterday I wrote a blog about the senseless murder of two WDBJ employees, by a former employee, during a live broadcast in Virginia.

As the Roanoke area, and the nation, and more significantly, people who knew them, come to grip with the loss of Alison Parker and Adam Ward, a national news anchor alluded to a poignant story concerning Alison.

It seems Leo Hirsbrunner, the station weatherman, tended to keep a package of gum on his desk, and Miss Parker would often “borrow” a stick or two. Having unwrapped her prize, she would hide the wrapper somewhere on the weatherman’s desk; under a paperweight, or inside a tin of breath mints.

Today, one day after the senseless murders, Mr. Hirsbrunner discovered one of Alison’s gum wrappers secreted in some crevice or corner of his desk.

There is another poignant story which comes to us as the result of this tragedy. Melissa Ott, the morning show producer at WDBJ, and fiancée of Adam Ward, was watching the interview when Alison, and her beloved Adam were so rudely deprived of their lives. Oddly enough, yesterday was to have been her last day with the station, and later on the very day of her fiance’s murder,

… her wedding gown was delivered!

I can relate to these experiences. And though the following story concerns an animal, that animal was near and dear to my heart, and the story expresses a similar persuasion.

On March 1, 2006 my aged Shih Tzu passed from this earth; thankfully, at home, and in that circular little bed she frequented during the day. “Buddy” had been deathly ill the night before, her respiration erratic, and as I had just stepped away to make a phone call, my precious pooch met her doggie angel, and just slipped away.

Having spent a few final moments with my little friend, I reflected on the most likely container for her earthly remains, and I happened to glance across my living room. Just recently, a friend had given me a pair of loafers, and the empty shoebox lay next to a chair. It was easily assessable, and the perfect size, and so I picked up that blessed creature, and gently placed her in the box. Gazing at my Buddy one last time, I snapped the lid on the shoebox, and prepared to locate a suitable resting place in my backyard.

Having dug a hole under an oak tree, I lifted my precious pup’s ad-lib casket, and was struck by

… the lingering warmth which still exuded from her lifeless body, and permeated the cardboard of which her little casket was comprised. So much like the warmth she exuded in life.

Some people may think of such experiences as coincidences; just random, though interesting, and paradoxical occurrences.

Somehow, I think Providence is at work in such moments as these; encouraging and reassuring us that those whom we loved are not all that far from us, and

… this is not all there is.

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 5