It was a beautiful late summers day on Saturday – sunny and warm. But in the early afternoon peace was shattered in Shoreham by a plane crash at the Air Show. A Hawker Hunter doing a loop crashed into cars at a junction on the main A27, just north of the airfield. At the last count it was 11 dead and perhaps more still, such a sad tragic loss.
I wasn’t there, but it was local. I often ride across the junction at the start of MTB rides west towards Chanctonbury Ring and beyond. It was a few hundred meters from the toll-bridge by the house my Mother lived in as a girl and where she witnessed a bus crashing into the river (mentioned in the post before last). By co-incidence she was at the 1952 Farnborough Air Show when a plane crashed in to the crowd.
Not sure what else to say, but it hits harder and deeper when you know the area. And watching some of the eye-witness videos is chilling.
I had only been reflecting that the over last few months my world has felt rather topsy-turvy. It is nothing compared to the turmoil of the bereaved families that my thoughts are with this week.