I am sorry. You died last night.
You were hit by a car at Howard & 7th in San Francisco when you were riding your bike through the intersection. I was a passenger in the orange prius. We saw the SUV hit you, and speed off. We screamed ‘No! No! No!’. But our screams were not heeded.
You did not know what hit you, how could you?
I wish you were made of steel
The man I was with and I ran to you. I tried to find your pulse. I couldn’t. I held your hand, someone yelled at me not to touch you. We stayed with you. You were not alone. We were loving you. We wanted to save you, help you, protect you.
The EMT came fast, and gave you CPR until they got your heart started. But you know it was not enough.
I am so sorry it wasn’t enough. I am sorry that we weren’t magic. That we couldn’t conjure a Patronus to protect you. That we were not superhuman or superheros. That we didn’t have miracles in our pockets from Elon Musk to bend time — just for 10 seconds. If we could have, we would have.
We were sorely lacking. We were just humans.
I am sorry you died last night. I knew last night you were young, I now know you were — just 26 years old. You were killed with so much life left to live, so much potential, so much in front of you. I am so sorry you died having been here so briefly.
You were loved.
Your friends and roommates have reached out — they love you so much. People who love and are loved have had the sweetest taste of life. I am thankful for those who loved you so, and I am sad you don’t get to be an old loved and loving woman.
Your friends and family know you were not alone. I told them, don’t worry. I wanted them to know that we strangers were with you, not as strangers but as your human family caring desperately for you as our own.
For a few hours last night I was holding you in full recovery. Imagining you riding your bike, laughing as if 8:24pm had never happened. Then I read that you had died.
I am so sorry you died. I am so sorry we couldn’t save you.
You did not suffer, you felt no pain. I believe you were enjoying the summer evening light, your mind thinking how beautiful it was, and that you were filled with life — with joy, because you are clearly that kind of young woman.
I know that you are now at one with your God in whatever name or form. I know that you are at peace.
I will continue to think of you in the sunshine, spending beautiful evenings, laughing with those you love. Godspeed.
I am so sorry you died last night. I will never forget you.
26-year-old Kate Slattery was killed last night, 22 June 2016 she was safely riding her bicycle and was struck by a speeding SUV running a red light at the intersection of Howard and 7th Street in San Francisco, California
