I am posting this after the fact.

Yesterday, a really bad thing happened.

On my second ride for the day, at twelve thirty, my group of horses was suddenly surprised by a group of dogs as we were going up a steep hill, near the stable. There was a clutter of noise: hooves and the screaming of horses and children. My horse jumped and sprinted like the rest. I got him under control and looked behind me. All I remember is a movement pattern: most of the horses heading down, back to the barn at a flat run, towards traffic, their ears all flat back against their heads. I don’t remember if they had riders. There was one kid near me, trying to control his horse. I talked to him first, told him to pull back, saying easy, easy the whole time. I must have gotten off my horse, but I don’t remember doing it. The dogs were still there. They were just three sweet stupid dogs having fun. I told them to get, with flat, furious undeniability, and they went.

I got Ryan, the kid near me, off his horse, and made him walk up the hill, away from the horses. His eyes were wide and his face was pale. There was a girl on the ground, crying and dead white, and holding herself in some kind of pain. I took the two horses with me, talking to them, trying to calm them, and talking to this girl. I asked her where it hurt, and told her not to get up, but to just wait there. I had to take the horses down.

But behind the pale girl, down in the gully on the rocks, was a red shape and the flesh tones of a face, and it wasn’t moving. Someone had pulled over– screached to a halt– and ran into the gully. I could here him yelling, “Are you okay? Are you okay?” and then people saying, “Oh my god, oh my god…” and the shape did not move. I don’t remember if there were still horses down there. I remember people converging, faster than seemed possible, on that shape in the gully. I didn’t remember who was wearing red, I thought it was an adult.

It was Ryan’s ten year old sister. I remembered that because coming towards me, as I crossed the road towards the barn, were two people. I don’t remember the man’s face. It didn’t exist. All I remember was the pale ugliness, the pulled back hair, the red, red neck, but mostly the chalk-white face. The mother. She was walking fast, so fast, so hard. “Where is my son? Ryan? Where is Ryan?” I stammered, he was okay, he was up there. The woman’s face did something I can’t describe at all. All she said was “my daughter? Where is my daughter?” She was begging. She was screaming in the back of her head, as she walked quickly she was running, she was trying to protect them, they were out of her hands. I couldn’t– I didn’t know what to say. She’s– she’s over there, but she was already by me. She heard everything she needed to in the set of my face, which I’m sure was pale as well.

I got back, put the horses up, there was a flurry, people taking care of horses, putting them away. Andy was pale, pale, his face dead-set, stoic. Turro was hopping. Josh’s eyes were so blue, they hurt. Everyone, everyone was pale. A firetruck roared down towards the gully. An ambulance. I put up those horses and went to go to Josh and Turro, who were walking towards the gully, towards Ten Year Old Megan who just a few minutes ago I had been joking with, who just a few minutes ago had been arguing with her brother, who just a few minutes ago was laughing and moving.

Turro told me to get back.

Go back. So I did. Good dog. Go back. Do what’s needed. So I did.

The end was, several people where thrown  from their panicking horses. The ten-year old girl named Megan was thrown 25 or 30 feet in the air and landed on boulders. She had to be medivac-helicoptered out. I don’t know how she is doing. At the time she was doing very badly, and couldn’t feel any of her extremities.

That’s all I really know.

It was horrible. It was horrific.