Another Goodbye

Hello, lovelies.

Last week Monday, one of my teachers was in a car accident on the way to school. A massive pole swung from a truck and impaled his windshield, hitting him and going all the way through his car. He was taken to the hospital, unconscious, and throughout Monday and Tuesday, the doctors did all they could to bring down the brain swelling and find some brain activity.

They didn't find any.

We lost him Tuesday evening.

He was a history teacher, a Bible teacher, and a soccer coach, as well as a father and husband with three little kids. I had him for my world cultures class this year and several history classes in years past, and he was one of the kindest and happiest people I have ever known. The way he looked at the world was through a lens that searched for injustice and worked with a servant heart to resolve them. He was a lover of donuts, and he would surprise some of the other teachers with sweet treats for no reason at all.

More than that, he was such an avid Jesus-lover. He loved others with the same love that Jesus gave him, and there is no one else in the world that I know who lived so into their words as he did. His death struck so hard at my community, and over 20 schools responded to this tragedy with beautiful letters, banners, kind words, and support that has completely blown me away. To see a community come together like this, and even people across the world start to pray for him and his family is amazing. As beautiful as it is to see everyone coming together, I wish it wasn't through this tragedy that we realized how much we need each other.

A map of all the people sending prayers to the family.

The hardest thing is seeing my teachers cry during class. Although all of his colleagues loved him, he had a close-knit group of teachers that some people called the "Fab Five" because they were just a group of guys who loved each other dearly and loved to laugh. The woman who teaches the other world cultures class has now had to take over mine since there's no one else who can cover it, and I can see how it aches her to stand in his place when he was who she looked to for support and guidance. It makes my heart break to see her break down while trying to teach.

The day this post goes up is Monday.

The day of his funeral.

School is going to be shut down for the whole day, and Living Hope (the choral group I'm a part of) has been asked to sing at the funeral. Thinking about it as I write this post the night before the funeral, I don't know how I'm going to keep it together singing in front of all of my peers and teachers and his mourning family members. All last week I have sobbed into the arms of friends and choked back tears in the middle of class, my throat closing up from a memory of a teacher who was more than just someone who taught a curriculum. To be able to sing "Do Not Be Afraid" is such an honor, but also something that carries incredible weight.

. . . And I don't know if I can carry that weight.

---

If you think about it, send me your thoughts and prayers this Monday or even leave a comment to let me know you're here. Also, if you'd like to read more about what happened, I'll link a news article HERE that you can check out if you want more information.

His name was Mr. Witte.

That is all.

Love,
Seana