Note: I’ve collected all these into one story on this page.
It was nearly an hour before anything happened. Dot held Vicky in her arms Vicky feeling light in them. Vicky was calm, though she didn’t sleep. Dottie wondered how long it had been since Vicky had slept, and was thankful for her pleasant disposition, that she wasn’t crying from exhaustion. Violet stood near her, with nothing to do. Since they’d been reunited, Dorothea hadn’t given Vicky up to Violet’s care, and, being separated from their diaper bag, Violet didn’t have much to do. She made small talk with a couple standing nearby for a while, but Violet was so much younger than the bulk of the crowd, and alone, she felt like she didn’t have much to say. She thought of her parents. She needed to let them know she was all right. She wondered how much longer it will be, and why no one has taken her name. She worried about her mother, reading the news and hearing about the accident, and wanted to get in touch with her before mom began to worry too much.
In ones and twos, more people arrived, usually accompanied by Jubo, the shepherd, and more volunteers now, locals who showed up by the dozen to do what they can for the survivors of the crash - of the two crashes. There were now hundreds of them. The scale of the catastrophe began to dawn on Dot. If this many people survived, how many did not? Perhaps the other plane wasn’t as badly damaged as the Pan Am one. Dorothea noticed that most of the people arriving now spoke another language she didn’t understand or recognize.
Finally Ralph appeared again. He endeavored to attract the attention of the large crowd, who slowly quieted down. “Thank you. Ladies and gentlemen. If I could have your attention please. We have found another English speaker, and he is now searching the wreckage. We can’t be sure, but we think we have most of you.” A hand went up in the crowd. Ralph raised a hand, palm out. “I know you must be confused. I know you have questions. I will endeavor to help. but first I need to make sure everyone can understand me. If you can speak English and you understand this, please raise your hand.”
Perhaps a third of the hands went up. “Good. Now I would have all of you move over here into a separate group.” He made a waving motion to his right. “Please separate and gather over here to my right.”
People began shuffling through the crowd, just over half of them moving to Ralph’s right. “Good. Good. Juba?” Dorothea hadn’t noticed but Juba had returned and was standing next to Ralph.
Juba began to speak in Spanish. Eventually a smaller group - perhaps a dozen - raised their hands. Juba instructed them - Dorothea assumed - to move, and they gathered as a group off to Juba and Ralph’s left.
Ralph turned to the rest of the group, pointed to himself and said “me English. You?” He pointed to a young brunette woman in a floral print nylon dress, cut to mid calf.
“Nederlands, Deutsch.”
He pointed to another woman - older than the first, in a slate blue sport coat and skirt over a matching blue and white flowered blouse. “Nederlands.”
Another, a man this time, mid-50’s in a tan suit. “Nederlands, Francais.”
Another man, tanned and rugged in a brown leather touring jacket. “Deustch.”
He addressed the non-english group and raised his hand. “Nederlands?” Virtually all of them raised their hands. He motioned them to move into a group, waving to them to step backwards. The entire group backed up perhaps ten years, leaving only two survivors standing alone. Ralph pointed to them one at a time.
“Francais” said one.
“Deutsch” said the other. Ralph motions to wait.
Ralph is about to begin the process of finding a translators, when from the group of Dutch speakers a man could be heard shouting. He emerged from the group, walking towards Ralph. He was younger - perhaps 30 - with a pale denim button down shirt, jeans of a darker blue, with a full head of curly, dark brown hair. Behind him, his wife followed: beautiful, perhaps not 30, blonde in a white turtleneck sweater, red stripe at the collar, blue stripes on the sleeve, blue drawstring pants with a white tie. Dorothea couldn’t speak Dutch but it was plain that the man was angry, and his wife was beseeching him to stop and follow instructions.
The man spoke forcefully to Ralph. “Vertel me wat er gebeurt! Je moet! Ik sta erop!”
“Please. Sir. I cannot understand you, but I am sure one of the people in your group speaks English. I am about to find a translator. All of your questions will be answered.”
The man wasn’t having it. A string of Dutch flowed from him. In his anger, the Dutch sounded comical. Like a bad impression of a crazed dictator.
“Please, sir. I beseech you.”
But it was no use. The man stormed off, his wife in tow. He made his way from the crowd, heading towards some lights in the distance.
“Sir, you cannot leave. I must perform the vows. Sir!” His wife turned to Ralph, then back to her husband, pleading.
But it was no use. The man was gone. The wife had no choice. She followed him.
Ralph turned to the Dutch group “Unfortunate. But we must continue. And we must hurry. Does anyone here speak both English and Dutch?”
A man raised his hand. By all appearances he seemed to be the captain of one of the planes - early 60’s, tan, vigorous in his appearance, exuding authority with his grey hair and uniform. “Good. Come up here with me.” Ralph then addressed the English speaking group. “Does anyone here speak German or French?”
The captain said “I also speak German.”
“Good, good. I’m afraid you will be pulling a double duty then.”
A woman raised her hand in the English Speaking group. She, like most of the Americans, was in her early 60’s, grey hair. She wore a loose grey knit blouse with a large bow in the front and a string of pearls. “I speak French.”
“Excellent. Come up here with me.” Ralph, Juba, the captain and the woman in the blouse were now standing in front of the group, which was separated into sections by spoken language.
Ralph spoke. “Right then. I believe we have most everyone - there will be one or two lost but we will try and find them. I will pause in my speaking to let the others translate.” He paused, and motioned to the translators. The captain hesitated. It was evident he wanted to ask a question. Ralph interrupted. “I know you must have many questions - all of you. I will endeavor to answer them. I am bound by honor to do so. This is not how this usually happens. I’m afraid the magnitude of this disaster on our relatively unpopulated island has made this somewhat difficult. But we shall endeavor to persevere. But please. Let us speak first. Sir, if you will.” Ralph paused and waited for the Captain’s assent. Juba began translating for the small Spanish speaking group immediately. The captain, signaled his decision to accept Ralph’s wishes, by beginning to translate Ralph’s words. His decision has swayed the woman in grey.
Ralph went on. “I’m afraid I have some terrible news.”
Moody and quiet mix for you. Mix of old and new. Man I do not have any mixes ready for this week. I suppose it’s kind of fun when I don’t have a mix ready cuz I can just add a bunch of songs I love to a bunch of new songs. Makes for a good one, even if it feels like cheating.
I wanted to write about my lovely weekend, but Tuesdays are still busy, whether or not we have monday off. Tried to write to you guys yesterday, but got interrupted by an HVAC estimator, and had no more time in the day. Will regale you with thrilling tales of all my weekend chores tomorrow.
Hope you enjoyed your holiday!