Over the weekend a story has emerged of a 10 year old girl in Nashville, TN who got swept away in a flooded ditch and sucked into an 18"drainage pipe. She is okay and will have something to talk about on Monday at school (as if the flooding wasn't enough).
When my father's sister (I can't really call her an aunt, because I never knew her) was at a local park with family picnicking when she and her cousins went wading in the rain swollen creek. Somehow, she was sucked into a drain hole. She drowned at the age of 11. My dad was 2 years old. He never got to know his sister.
I never got to know my "Aunt Marilyn". When Grandma died, we inherited all of the Marilyn memorabilia, and, in a way, we all got to know her by reading the letters she had written to her mother when they were separated, the scrap books that she kept, the photographs of all of the children together, alone and with adults, the memories others wrote about her in the sympathy cards received after her death. I think I would have liked her. She had a motherly instinct, and adored her little brother, my dad.