I blanched at the smashed cars, screaming sirens, and Flight for Life helicopter that blew up grit and twisted the air. Meanwhile, from the sidelines, huddled in eerily quiet groups, teenagers bore witness to the carnage.
Each spring during prom week, firefighters, actors, students and my fellow faculty members enacted this scene on the high school football field.
It was a theater of death.
The afternoon was intended to shock some, remind others and beg all to refrain from driving drunk on prom night.
The students’ stadium behavior was unlike any other time. No shouts — friend to friend — across the yard lines. No dance moves, pulsing, swaying atop a bleacher bench. No face paint or crazy costumes.
