A Requiem

Why? Why do things like this happen? Was it the driver's fault? No, probably not. In the driver we find a man or woman that followed a loftier calling to transport beer for the people. Was it weather conditions? Maybe, but I see no snow or ice in the picture. Was it possibly another driver? For his sake, I hope not. The vital fluid of all these dead soldiers would stain his hands from here to judgement day and back again.

In the face of a picture like this, I try to look on the positive side. These are Grolsch bottles. At least they weren't swing-tops. Hard as I try, the harsh truth still remains. Had they been swing-tops, the inside would be the same. Grolsch beer. More importantly, BEER. wasted beer and for what? For the sun to come out and evaporate the alcohol? I can only hope that trucks driver, the officials, a passerby...anybody! That they came and salvaged what they could. They picked up an empty case and, with a tear in the eye and heart weighted down, filled it with survivors. And after the excessive carbonation from the crash had subsided they, with friends or loved ones or both, drank to the bottles broken, empty, and left behind.

In memory of this photo, taken in Somewhere, Europe on an unknown date, let's give our lost barley boys the salute they deserve! Open a bottle, a can, whatever you have! Drink to family, friends, life, and to Beer's past, present, and future!