This is where Martin Bromage's GPS tracker stoped working. These Long/Lat and come from his GPS Data logger attached to his Microlight, the next time Martin was seen was when his body was plucked out of the English Channel a few miles off of the French coast. Facts are scares. Painfully we one thing for sure, Martin died on the 18th January 2010 a date that is etched into my mind.
He died on the, blah, blah, blah..............you can read all about the details at any one of of a 100 sites if you Google his name. These sites tell you what they know for sure and add various colour to the facts, and lead the reader though a range of "could have been's....".
Isn't it interesting when your close to the news the spin is so clear it half truths and assumptions bite at one's core. Then I read comments left to those articles from people who have lost a dear friend, and then read thoughtless assumptive drivel from people who did not know Martin, don't know any of the facts, and don't let any of that stand in the way of populating the message boards with their comments. Cretins. http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=cretin
This blog is not concerned with the conjecture myth and rumour, its just to help me deal with the death of a very dear friend, and to share with you the slice of Martin that I knew and loved.
If your still reading, its been six days since Martin died, some of the most times difficult emotional times I have had in a long while. I have not blogged simply because I did not think I would have been able to see the screen for tears, saving this blog as a draft means it may be several more days before I pluck up the courage to post on a subject which is so raw to me.
The news of Martin's death was so unexpected. The news was delivered by phone while I worked away in Athens. My colleagues and friends have been a real support all week. I need to take the time to thank them when my head has cleared. They offered condolences and sharing there own experiences. Three of my colleagues shared with me times in there lives when they have been touched by death. When you work with someone its easy to think you know them well but these events simply highlight how odd it is that we spend so much time together but know so little of each other. I resolve to change that.
I wanted run home and be with my family & friends all week, dealing with these feelings of flight alone were difficult, but hiding how dreadful I felt was even harder. I am not even sure I managed that, weeping uncontrollably at the first chance I had to close the hotel room door behind me. Do grown men cry?
For the first 24hrs I could not stop rushes of dread, and time alone during the day was difficult to find, the second day was better with more facts and information flowing, Added to this long calls with friends in the UK helped ease the feelings of loss, I expected day 3 to be better still but it was worse I just wanted to scream and shout, I was bewildered and annoyed. Yes annoyed most with Martin for dying, I was not alone others felt this too, but its an odd feeling being annoyed with someone who you want to see, fly and laugh with once more, the waves of annoyance simply pass with waves of dread and sorrow.
On Monday the 18th January at 0709hrs I sat in the terminal at Gatwick I picked up my phone and called Martin, we spoke twice (dam mobiles) for 1.45 seconds just to wish him well good luck and to say the fog at Gatwick was thick, and that I was thinking of him.
Martin was one the original "lightning brothers" at "Fly UK" http://www.fly-uk.org/ we built up a friendship over the 5 years we flew together. He was such a easy guy to like, get on with and so much fun. He had a "matter of fact" approach to just get on with his life and his loves, under spoken and over living He was an example, he is an example to me.
We took on the first Competition of 2009 together at Over Farm, where his hospitality and friendship were as usually extended. A great weekend for my memory bank, but a sad weekend too we lost two pilots of a fixed wing in a terrible accident at Shobdon, the pilots well known to many at the competition, and they flew on. I now know how they felt. Sick.
Sat around the table that night Martin told me of Plans to fly to Australia, we discussed the hows and the likelihood of this dream, and in his own style set his mind to it, and did it! We discussed sponsor ship and money over the next period, never letting the lack of either get in the way he had a plan and was going to make it real.
I recall days on the beach with Martin in Cornwall & Silly Isles and flights around the Highlands of Scotland, nights on the IOW at Spamfield. I miss him.
So I was asked will you stop flying now? I guess flying is part of your DNA. In truth I am yet to make that decision consciously yet. The answer for now no I shall fly on.
Oddly the hardest thing I have had too do this week was to come home, landing back in the UK just brought back the loss, he was not here. That fact seemed some how unreal in Athens. I hugged my kids and told them a friend of mine was dead, but did not tell them how Martin died. At 14 I don't want them to worry every time we fly, is that selfish? Yes, I think it is.
