Too many taken too soon

In this week's Bigfork Eagle there are two stories concerning lives ended long before their time. Dawn Bowker, a teacher at Somers Middle School was killed by a drunk driver on her way to work this time last year. Jeffrey Bowman collapsed at football practice only months ago and died a week later in a Kalispell hospital room.

Bowman was 17, Bowker 27.

Though I had never met either of these people, all accounts indicate they were among the best the world has to offer and that they took in everything this marvelous place can provide.

Bowker's life was celebrated by students at Somers Middle School as part of Red Ribbon week and it speaks volumes about her thirst for life that they participated in activities ranging from ropes courses to hikes to swimming and shooting. Bowker loved all the things there are to love about the Flathead and took full advantage of them and for that I think we can all be inspired and grateful.

Jeff Bowman hadn't been in Bigfork long when his life was cut short on a summer evening. Troy Bowman, his mother, spoke a few weeks ago about her son and said that this summer had been the finest of his life and that he had blossomed in the welcoming community his family found here. He had found the outdoor pursuits available here perfect for his young spirit and had become suddenly and intensely smitten with fly-fishing. The rivers here, I think, will miss the soft swish of his fly rod for years to come.

The passing of these two young people in only a year is a crushing blow to this small community that is increasingly realizing the need for vibrant youth to keep it afloat. It is also a wake-up call to all of us, at any age, that when the time comes it can all end in a blink.

Four years ago as a college sophomore I worked for a girl my own age at the student newspaper. She was the best young journalist in our class and we all knew it. She was also diabetic, something most of us did not know. One night shortly before classes resumed in the spring I ran into her at a Missoula restaurant and we chatted briefly about the coming semester. The next morning a friend called to tell me that Katie was gone. "You're kidding," I said, knowing already that such a thing was not kidded about and incredulous that the brief exchange the night before had been one of her last. Days later we were at her funeral on an icy day only a few miles from the Canadian border. Those cold, empty plains were not nearly big enough to hold all of our sorrow.

And so now we continue to cope, each in our own ways. It is not fair that sometimes the best among us are taken and the rest of us remain searching for answers we know those who left us could have provided. Sometimes the cruel fates simply take and parents, friends and communities are left reaching out for the answers we will never have. We are left only with our broken hearts.

Alex Strickland