Tragedy's web reaches far and wide

Some readers’ eyes zeroed in on the blanketed bundle in a diver’s arms that could only mean one thing: tragedy.

But to others, the front page photo showed much more. It captured the distraught expressions and stunned body language of rescue workers summoned to recover the body of 25-year-old Misty Phelps and her two little boys, Riley, 2, and Tristan, 1.

If you happen to be looking for tragedy, you’ve found plenty around here lately.

Bo Kirk was murdered in late October. Misty and her sons perished last week. And on Sunday, distraught 59-year-old veteran Dale Belieu shot and killed himself at Real Life Ministries in Post Falls while the church was on lockdown.

These deaths have unquestionably exacted a terrible toll on families and friends. Our condolences go to each and every one of them. But the list of victims extends much further than the deceased and their loved ones, even though the men and women we have in mind would never consider themselves victims.

We’re talking about the first responders and other rescue personnel who are called upon whenever something horrible happens. The vast majority of us don’t see beyond the photos in the paper or the messages on social media. We feel pain and sorrow, but we’re spared the agonizing nightmares that are part of the non-returnable package that every first responder receives when he or she signs up for the job.

Because they’ve been fortunate that these kinds of tragedies have not visited them, what many people don’t know is the empathic nature of so many of our rescuers and other first responders. You could get some sense of that in The Press photograph of two officers consoling the man who discovered the submerged car and witnessed the extraction of the three bodies, as well as the photo of a Coeur d’Alene Fire Department employee with his arm over the shoulders of a grief-stricken diver. The Press, where Misty Phelps worked for more than three years, received at least three sympathetic messages from sheriff’s office personnel, including a phone call from Sheriff Ben Wolfinger.

First responders and rescue personnel are cut from some cloth that most of us can admire but not emulate. Like us, though, they’re human. While we can’t console them on a personal level, we can certainly express our appreciation as a community.

Thanks to you, each and every one. You have our respect, our gratitude, and our sincere wishes for your own recovery from the pain inflicted through your professionalism.