Two pilots are dead after a Greek air force jet went down during an annual aerial show north of Athens. The plane crashed, the pilots were killed, and a crowd that showed up for a spectacle instead watched a tragedy unfold in real time. There's no angle that makes that feel lighter, and I'm not going to pretend there is. When something like this happens, our first instinct is usually to look for the lesson or the blame or the bigger meaning. But sometimes the honest take is simpler: this is what happens when we treat high-risk performances like they're just another part of the program. The pilots knew the risks. That doesn't make it easier to hear, and it shouldn't make us numb to it, either.
This hits close to home in a way that's hard to shake, even from thousands of miles away. We're a community that shows up for each other, whether that's a study session, a club meeting, or a Saturday afternoon event. We also know what it's like to gather around something we care about, to feel that shared energy, and then have to sit with the weight of what could go wrong. The same week we're reading about a jet crash in Greece, our own feeds are full of heavy rain and floodwaters in Indiana, where at least seven people have died. At least 7 people have died from days of heavy rain and record-setting flooding in Indiana reminds us that loss doesn't always come with warning or spectacle. Sometimes it's a sudden disaster, sometimes it's a planned event turning tragic. Either way, the grief is real, and the people left behind are the ones we should be thinking about, not just the footage or the headlines.
So what do we actually do with this? We don't need to spiral or overthink every choice we make. But we can let it ground us. When we say "future me will thank me," we usually mean saving money or finishing an assignment early. Today, it's worth remembering that being present and honest with the people around us matters more than any deadline. If a reader asked me what to take from this, I'd say this: don't let the shock fade into nothing. Remember that the people in the air, in the water, and in the way of the storm are real, with real families and real plans for the weekend. That's not a downer, it's just a fact. It's the kind of thing that makes you text your friend back faster or actually mean it when you say "let's grab coffee soon." The specific takeaway I'd offer is simple: grief is heavy, but we can carry it better when we don't try to carry it alone. Whether that's showing up to a vigil, checking on a neighbor, or just sitting with someone who's having a rough day, that's the work. And it's the kind of work that actually matters. The next time you see a big show or a big event, I'm not saying don't go. Just remember who's in it, and who's watching from the ground.
