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Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Will you wait with me?
When Susan Swanson collapsed on the edge of the roadway in downtown Portland, no one paid much attention.
Cars swished by, spitting exhaust and pebbles in Susan’s direction. Pedestrians strolled past her, from a distance, figuring that she was another addict lost in a fentanyl stupor. Or maybe she was one of the many street persons struggling with mental illness.
Whatever her story, no one bothered to ask.
Had people been more observant, they would have noticed that Susan was well-dressed. Her clothes were clean, and she sat in a contemplative trance. She was not struggling with drug and alcohol abuse, nor was her mind lost to the chemical imbalances that invite chaos.
Susan collapsed because her eleven-year-old daughter, Brittany, passed away early that morning.
Joel Traynor was on his way to coffee with Kimberly White, a friend and colleague from work.
It had been a hectic morning dealing with client calls and various projects at their marketing firm. Kimberly closed a deal with a new client, the Doernbecher Memorial Hospital, and wanted to celebrate.
The morning rain lifted as Kimberly drove to “The Jitter Nest,” her favorite coffee shop. Along the way, Kimberly…
