Yesterday afternoon, I received a text message from a friend that read, “Oh gosh....just seeing the news about Holy Cross and of course, thinking of you. Prayers to those women and their families.”

I hadn’t seen the news, so I googled “Holy Cross accident.” Before I finished typing “Cross,” the search engine self-populated to read “Holy Cross rower killed.” And I felt a pit in my stomach.

I knew from my friend’s text that something had happened. There isn’t a bus accident or team accident that occurs that I don’t hear from someone. And as word spread through the news and across the country, I continued to receive texts, some with just a ❤️

But of course this isn’t about me. Right now all thoughts and prayers are for The College of Holy Cross, their athletics department, their rowing program, and the student-athletes whose lives were forever altered yesterday.

The pit in my stomach has not subsided. As I look at the picture of Grace Rett, I am heart broken for her family and friends. And as I read every article I can find about the survivors, I am grateful to know they are all expected to live.

The survivors. Some suffered serious and critical injuries, and their injuries devastate me. These are the lives to which I can relate. These are the lives that will never be the same. These are the women who - in 30 years - will read about an accident and be as crushed as though it happened to them. Because it did. And it does. Over and over, every time it happens.

The College of Holy Cross is in shock and mourning. In time, there will be healing, although that’s hard to imagine right now when the chaos and horror is still unfolding. And while I have never visited their campus, there is comfort in knowing it is a community of faith. And there is no better place to live through a tragedy than in the heart of a community of faith.

God Bless the Crusaders.