Chapter 3 - The Accident Story Was Simple Enough for Grief
The call came at 10:17 on a Tuesday morning.
I was thirty-three weeks pregnant.
Working from home.
Caleb’s mother called.
Not Drew.
That detail bothered me later.
At the time, nothing bothered me because nothing existed except Marianne saying:
“There’s been an accident.”
I remember asking:
“Is Caleb hurt?”
She started crying.
Then I knew.
At the hospital, Drew explained what happened.
Crew was excavating for storm-water piping.
Trench approximately:
eleven feet deep.
Soil had been wet from several days of rain.
A trench shield was on site.
According to Drew, Caleb stepped down into the excavation to check grade near the south wall.
Part of the wall failed.
Soil collapsed inward.
The crew reacted immediately.
Emergency services came.
Caleb did not survive.
I asked:
“Why was he in there?”
Drew answered:
“He was checking work.”
“Was it safe?”
“Yes.”
Then:
“It was until it wasn’t.”
That sentence became the official family explanation.
Construction is dangerous.
Ground moves.
Bad things happen.
The Occupational Safety and Health Administration began an inspection, which I understood was normal after a workplace fatality.
Workers’ compensation representatives contacted me.
The company insurer called.
Caleb’s life-insurance carrier sent forms.
I was thirty-three weeks pregnant and planning a funeral.
I did not investigate.
I survived:
hours.
Marianne moved into our guest room temporarily.
She cooked.
Washed baby clothes.
Sat beside me when I could not sleep.
Drew handled:
company paperwork,
Caleb’s employment records,
insurance documents.
He told me:
“Don’t worry about the business.”
I believed him.
May you like
Maybe because I needed to.
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