Stefan's Story

I'd forgotten about Stefan.  Well, not really forgotten, just hadn't remembered him for a while until a blog visitor today visited this post:

Stefan and Time

This post said the following about Stefan:

To Stefan and His Friends

Caring deeply

For strangers

Known briefly

Loved forever

and I remembered again and I thought I'd tell his story.  As I write I have no idea if this will make a post and, if so, whether it will work or not.  I'm not going to judge; I'll write the whole post and then let it float where it will.

 

I met Stefan for the only time for a couple of hours or so one August afternoon in 1991 in circumstances which none would like to encounter. But meet we did and I have never forgotten him or the circumstances and never will forget.

Mrs Carr and I were on the way home after a holiday in Skye, I think it was. We had just driven through the tiny village of Dalwhinnie, near Drumochter Summit, and were waiting to turn right across the traffic onto the single carriageway of the main road North from Central Scotland, A9.  As I turned right, we saw a Transit minibus "parked" perfectly at right angles to the carriageway and directly opposite the Dalwhinnie road from which I had just turned right, passengers still sitting as though asleep. 

This didn't make sense.  Why park there?  Why still sit in the minibus?  Has there been an accident?  Has there?  My God, yes! [For any of a nervous disposition, do not worry.  This is not a tale of blood and guts.]

We pulled off the road, the first car to stop.  Also stopped was an articulated lorry.  In an instant all was clear.  The minibus had been turning right across the carriageway as we did but, unfortunately, as the minibus pulled across the road the lorry caught the minibus a glancing blow amidships and spun it round until it ended up apparently perfectly parked.  Damage?  Apart from a small vee in the middle of the passengers' side of the 'bus there was none.

The first signs were that none had suffered any obvious injuries, no blood. The driver got out the minibus and started to look for a friend, I can't remember the friend's name but he was missing.  The driver was frantic: where is he?  Eventually, quite quickly actually, he turned up in a ditch.  He'd been thrown out unconscious but now was apparently uninjured.

Much of what happened next is vague.  More cars stopped; more helping.  One minibus passenger tried to fling himself from his seat into the back of the minibus.  I knew he shouldn't but I could do nothing.  He screamed!  While waiting for the police and ambulances there was little to do.  There were enough passers-by helping.  But then there has to one bastard! One creep was taking photos.  "Fuck off!" 

I stayed with the driver who was distraught.  He was Italian - Stefan.  I have no idea how much time I spent with Stefan, talking to him, consoling him just being with him.  Even when the police and ambulances arrived I stayed with him.  It was so important to him that all his friends be OK.  He asked the police, he asked me and he kept asking. He knew his mistake had led to the accident.  I suspect that, instead of looking right before he made his turn onto the man road he did what was normal in Italy and looked left.  Seeing no traffic he pulled pulled out straight into the path of the artic coming from his right.  There was no escape.  The impact must have been inevitable. No wonder he was distraught! 

Up and down the verge we walked. An Italian and a Scot , two languages but understanding perfectly. 

Eventually after the air ambulance and most of the ambulances had headed towards Inverness, Stefan's time came.  Time for his ambulance.  "Come with me" he pleaded over and over again.  Home was 90 miles or so South.  Inverness was 50 miles North.  Back to work tomorrow.  I wanted to go to Inverness but I couldn't.  I should have but I couldn't.  I don't know how I rationalised this; probably on some very weak basis. 

Occasionally I think about this decision and I know I should have gone but the time has passed.  I did what I did. 

I told him that I couldn't go. but I couldn't let him go on his own.  Round my neck I wore a crystal, rose quartz, wrapped in copper wire with a leather string.  I removed the crystal and passed it to him.  He took it and put it round his neck.

 

This was no ordinary crystal!  This particular crystal was very very important to me.  I felt an incredibly strong connection between this "common" crystal and my father who had died many years earlier.  I can't remember how or why this came about but it did in  ...... spadefuls.

 

I couldn't go to inverness with Stefan but I could give him "my stone" not lightly or easily but without pain or disappointment.  As I handed the stone to Stefan I told him everything would be OK - it wasn't - but more importantly I said that the stone came with love and was given with love.  Amore!!  Probably the only word I knew in Italian. "Amore, Stefan"

Stefan wore the stone around his neck and walked to his ambulance.  I never saw Stefan or my stone again.  I didn't need to.

[Unfortunately 2 of Stefan's friends died from internal injuries.  Months later Stefan - or Stefani which was his actual name - was found guilty of a motoring offence and was quite correctly, admonished]

During 1991, I was in my writing, my "poetry",  phase and I wrote four or five pieces two of which I append below.  I hope they don't detract from the post.

STONE  TO  STEFAN

My stone is gone
To Stefan
No more shall I hold
Caress and kiss
This being

My love is in this stone
Love was given out
Through hard and painful times
But constant was this
No matter where or how I was

And now to Stefan
My stone, Stefan's stone
I know not "my"
And times will be
When Stefan knows
The stone does not belong
To one
But One
And All
And for All Love

The stone knew when
And I knew when
The time was right
To part in part
As Stefan will
When the Love is there

 

Stone
For One
For All

______________________________________

CALUM  AND  FRIENDS

Caring deeply
For strangers
Known briefly
Loved forever

So good
To care
And love
Those strangers

But strangers no more
Bridged by a bond
Born of need
From pain
And death

No more alone
In a foreign land
But at home
With friends
Real friends

Together
As all can be
A few
Together
For ever

I gave my love
For an hour
Of forever

No more asked
No more to give
Nothing else to give
But love

Now let go
With the love
That I gave
And the pain
Will move away

 

Only feelings of joy
To have been chosen
To give love that way