Twice in four days an LA County Sheriff's helicopter evacuated people from ambulances right by my house, once in the street and once in the park. Traffic stopped. People stared. The sky thudded with the beat of the helicopter rotors.
Then these people who had gotten up in the morning just as I did, eaten their breakfast, and gone off to do what they normally do, got hit. One by a car, the other by a heart attack.
I live in a suburb that's so peaceful, I sometimes think I'll go comatose. People move here and pay too much for their houses in order to avoid street drama and send their kids to good schools. And they typically prohibit anything they don't like—or they wish they could. Don't we all?
But drama ignores boundaries. Every one of us lives moment-by-moment, never able to say with certainty that we'll be free from affliction or even live another day. We all know people, young and old, who have died unexpectedly. Many of us have lived through har…