May 15, 2010 will be remembered by myself as the day a group of complete strangers came together, to remember all the good men, woman and children who have been killed on the Putty Road.

The Putty Road is 162km of winding, narrow and sometimes scary road.  It was an emotion filled weekend which took a very unexpected twist.  Which I will get into shortly.

On Saturday, there were about 200 people to attend the opening.  A lot of people had lost fridns and loved ones.  There were also a lot of people there who are involved in the trucking industry, just to show their respects for other blokes lost on the road.

Of course, we went through all of the regular thigns you would expect from a memorial.  Some of the stories were absolutely heartbreaking, and really bought the day home.

As part of the opening, the organisers put on a social dinner that night.  Myself, my grandparents, and my great aunt and uncle were sitting at one end of the table, listneing to the true horror that is country music.

There was a bloke and his wife at the end of the table in the same situation as us.  Not knowing anyone, and not having many people to talk to, so we invited them to join us.

This is where the story, in my opinion, gets a little amazing, or, miraculous if you want to use that word.

My father was killed in 1987 on the Putty Road.  When a family loses someone, immediatly, there becomes many questions that go unanswered, or the real information is distorted.  Be that to protect the family, or ust second and third hand information mixing things up.

That night we met Errol Smith.  A volenteer group captain of the NSW Fire and Rescue Service.  He has been in his line of work for 54 years.

Still a long shot, but grandma asked if he remembered anything from Dad’s accident.  We gave a date, we gave a name.  From there, Errol remembered everything.  Truck type, colour, how many people in the cab, injuries of the passenger, and what was on board.

This blew us all away.  Without going into the details, and if anyone really wants to know, I will tell them privately.  I can walk away from this weekend, with answers to some horrible questions.  And thanks to Errol, I have also had the chance to stand at the very spot, where my father lost his life.

A lot of people say sorry, and think I need their sympathy.  And please don’t take that the wrong way.  I appreciate it, a lot.  But the truth is, I have one memory of my father.  I was only 11 months old, so I don’t feel upset.

What I find amazing.  Out of all the people who we could have invited to join us for dinner.  It was the one man, who could answer every single one of our questions.

If anything, this weekend has given us all something to think about.  Be that those who are lost, or just about ourselves, and how things could have been if circumstances were different.  A lot of people blame themselves for the loss of friends and family.

But also a lot of people saying that everything happens for a reason.  Of course, this is met with people saying what reason could it be.  To all of those people, think about what has happened since then.  Both good and bad.

The way I see it.  Without my father being killed, I would have never known my mother’s family as well as I do.  My life would have been completely different.  I can’t say it would have been bad, but I have had a good life up to this point, and I’m still happy.  So why would I want to know what could have been.

For every negative in your life, I’m sure, if you think about it for a little while, there is always a positive to come out of it.

But anyway.  Enough rambling I guess.  From what I have seen this weekend, I will leave you with one thing.

Enjoy the people you love.  Do what you can to enjoy your time with them.  Corny?  Absolutely.  True?  Absolutely.  Because you never know what the next day will bring.  Don’t ruin what you have now, because tomorrow it could be gone.