I haven't written about it here, but many of you close to our family know that Dara and I moved to Seal Beach this summer to help out my in-laws in the wake of my father-in-law (Ron Deaton) falling ill in July. While on vacation in Costa Rica, Ron suffered cardiac arrhythmia. It is remarkable that the paramedics were able to revive him, and it is even more astounding that he is on his way to a full recovery. We've witnessed miracle after miracle over the last few months. It is a privilege to experience this story as it unfolds.

At 1:04 PM today, my mother-in-law sent me this text message: "Plane went down on sand at 13th street." We live on 4th street just Northwest of the Seal Beach Pier (Main Street), and 13th street is just Southeast of the Pier, so I was surprised that I didn't hear more commotion outside. How could a plane crash so quietly? I was in the middle of doing homework when I received the text message, but after a few minutes hesitation, I grabbed my camera and headed to the scene.