What is there to tell. In 1988, on this day, my younger brother Blut died in a car-crash on his way to work. Then it was a Friday and foggy wheater. The driver of the car survived the crash without a scratch. He, the driver that is, received his drivers-licence that week on Monday. My brother had told our mother on Thursday that Friday would be the last day to drive togeher with his colleague. He also said he’d rather ride with his bike to work, then with his colleague, because he considered his ‘driving-style’ way to dangereous.
Well, in fact it was his last day all together, driving or riding. I was still in the hospital in Amsterdam, the AMC, recovering from my bike accident earlier in the summer of 1987.
I can tell you, that day I’d rather swapped my life for his, if only that was possible. But it just isn’t…..
Blut, bro, rest in peace.