In Memoriam - The Tanjong Pagar Crash Part 1.

How do you protect your child from the randomness of life? 

The Saturday morning crash (at 5:40am) at Tanjong Pagar with five deaths was heartbreaking, and even more so when the papers today interviewed the loved ones of one of the deceased, Wilson Teo. He turned 26 on Dec 29 last year. 

Wilson was with 4 of his colleagues from Aviva Financial Advisors at that time, and the driver, Jonathan Long, 29, was his manager. The BMW M4 that Jonathan drove was a secondhand car purchased a few months ago for $200k. 

Wilson’s father, 56, a school bus driver, “nearly collapsed from shock and grief” when he was told his son died in the accident. 

“My heart completely sank. I knew that it was it. My son is gone. I had never thought something like this could happen. I completely broke down. I have lost something that is more important than my own life. I cannot accept it.”

That night before (Friday), Wilson promised his mum, 56, that he would not stay out too late “as the family had to visit Mrs Teo’s father for Chinese New Year the next day.”

In tears, Mrs Teo said: “He was so young. Such a good child and he is gone like that. He went out one night and he never came back...I keep hoping this is not real. That night, we left our front door open, hoping he would come home and call me “mum” once more. If he had come home, it would have all been fine.””

Wilson’s sister, an undergraduate, said: “He was always very caring towards me. When I was down, he would always tease me to cheer me up. He always said he loved to see my reaction when I was annoyed but I know that it was just his way of showing love.”

"I always saw him as a role model. He wanted to achieve a lot of things in life. He wanted to give my mum a better life. He said he would protect her forever. I want everybody to remember him as a nice person... He always knew his limits... He was the pillar in my family."

Lesson? One, and it is with the question I started with: lHow do you protect your child from the randomness of life?”

Shakespeare once said that fortune brings in some boats that are not steer’d. I guess misfortune works the same way. Sometimes, an unsteer’d event comes into our life, and it takes away what is most precious and priceless. Is all life a chance then? 

Odds favour no one. It is blind to the rich and the poor, the famous and the unknown, the insured and the uninsured. 

Einstein once said that God doesn’t play dice (refusing to believe in the seemingly unquantifiable world of quantum mechanics). Yet, the current scientific community would differ with him because uncertainty, in essence, lies at its very core. 

Maybe this is because we have yet to understand the mind of God and his laws. But in reality, I can’t imagine us mere mortals possessing the ability or technology to control every toss of the dice and every turn of an event. Wouldn’t we then be gods?

Senior Transport Correspondent Christopher Tan wrote an article about the accident this morning. He attempted to explain how the fire could happen. You have to read it for details. He in fact said that this fire arising from the accident is quite rare by virtue of today’s car design. 

In the article “Car fires, design and human behaviour”, Tan explained: -

 

“The low probability of fires in a crash is attributable mainly to safer car designs. For many years now, a car's fuel tank and engine are housed within a cell surrounded by crumple zones.”

“Crumple zones are designed to crumple, thus reducing impact forces from intruding into the passenger compartment as well as vital components, such as the fuel tank and engine. In many cars, fuel supply is also cut immediately upon a crash, further reducing the chances of fires.”

“In some, even electrical power from the battery is isolated, to prevent sparks.”

It is good to know that generally, our cars are designed with such safety features. But risks, designs and human behaviour all play a part in the events that unfold. Safety on the road is no doubt a finely calibrated balance of all those factors, and some get away with it, while others sadly don’t. 

Let me bring this to a close by repeating Wilson’s mom’s heartfelt words.

 

“...Such a good child and he is gone like that. He went out one night and he never came back...I keep hoping this is not real. That night, we left our front door open, hoping he would come home and call me “mum” once more. If he had come home, it would have all been fine.”

I can viscerally feel every of those words sinking deep into my heart and spirit. Leaving the front door open. Hoping he would come home. Seeing him return. Catching a tired glimpse of that respectful glance, and hearing him call “mom” or “pa” once more. Indeed, it would have all been fine. 

When a life so young, so full of hope and potential, is gone, as parents, the door of our heart is always open, because the undying love within us wishfully forms the image of our beloved that is never really gone. While reality may be a form of interpretation, at such time, it needs to be a matter of imagination, an imagination driven by a loss a parent cannot let go. 

Sometimes, the remnant of a loss can hurt so deeply, yet at the same time, it is what gives us hope to live on for the one departed and for those whose lives are still struggling to live on after the loss. 

As parents, we have always wanted to be the so-called “crumple zones” for our child so as to reduce the impacts from a world that is mechanically spinning on its own material axis. Yet, while love covers a multiple of sins, it does not shield every risk and decision made beyond what we can control. 

Indeed, there is a season for nurturance and a season for letting go. A season to hold their hands as they learn to walk and a season to let go as they journey on their own. Alas, as uncertainty, like unsteer’d boats, is part and parcel of life, so is love, though imperfect, is part and parcel of our time spent with them. And while they are still with us, let us never forget that. 

For as parents, let us always keep our doors open with a welcoming heart and a spirit that never takes anything for granted.