Wednesday, March 27, saw the start of recovery operations in Maryland as searchers continued to look for the six people who were thought to have died following the terrible fall of Baltimore’s Francis Scott Key Bridge.
A 985-foot-long tanker collided with the bridge early on Tuesday, sending parts of it tumbling into the Patapsco River. Six construction workers from Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador were listed as missing, according to CNN.
The US Coast Guard, however, has now said that it will halt its extensive search and rescue operation after coming to the conclusion that the men have passed away.
Miguel Luna, 49, a husband and father of three who was born in El Salvador and has lived in Maryland for almost 20 years, was one of the people identified. When the bridge collapsed, Luna was among the workers assigned to fix its potholes, as the BBC reported.
While ongoing recovery attempts continued, Miguel Luna’s wife, María del Carmen Castellón, voiced her sadness and the family eagerly awaited news.
They merely advise us to wait and that they are unable to provide us any information at this time. We are inconsolable because we don’t know if they have already saved them and our hearts are torn. In an interview with Telemundo 44, Maria bemoaned, “We’re just waiting to hear any news.”
Among the workers who went missing was Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval, 38, who was also identified as a victim. Maynor, a married father of an 18-year-old son and a 5-year-old daughter, was originally from Honduras. His brother Martin Suazo stated that he had lived in the United States for almost eighteen years.
The fall occurred early on Tuesday morning while the six workers—including Maynor—were working on fixing potholes on the bridge. They worked for a nearby firm called Brawner Builders, which maintains bridges in Maryland.
Senior executive Jeffrey Pritzker of Brawner Builders emphasized the company’s dedication to safety while expressing deep dismay at the incident’s unexpected nature.
Jeffrey said, “This was so completely unforeseen.” “We’re at a loss for words. We have cones, signs, lighting, barriers, and flaggers because we take such great interest in maintaining safety. However, we never anticipated that the bridge would fall.
Our thoughts and prayers are with the families of those who are missing and thought to be deceased.
MY DAD JUST WOKE UP FROM A COMA, SAYING HE HEARD EVERYTHING IN THE HOSPITAL ROOM & EXPOSING MY WFE.
The sterile scent of the hospital room hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the joyous atmosphere that had filled it moments before. My father, his face pale but his eyes surprisingly alert, looked at us, a mixture of exhaustion and a strange intensity in his gaze.
“Dad,” I began, my voice trembling with emotion, “how was it? Did you have any dreams? Any… anything?”
He looked at each of us in turn, his gaze lingering on my wife, Leah, who had gone deathly pale. “Not only dreams, son,” he rasped, his voice weak but surprisingly clear. “I heard EVERYTHING that happened in this room.”
A collective gasp escaped from the assembled family members. My mother, tears streaming down her face, reached for his hand.
“Dad,” I said, my voice strained, “what do you mean?”
He turned his gaze back to me, his expression serious. “There’s something you need to know about your wife,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “Something you need to understand.”
Leah, her face ashen, tried to interject, but my father raised a frail hand to silence her. “She’s nothing at all like what we think she is,” he continued, his voice unwavering. “Once, she came here—without you.”
The room fell silent. The only sound was the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Leah’s eyes, wide with fear, darted around the room.
“She came alone,” my father continued, his voice gaining strength. “She cried, she talked about… about how she was only with me for the money. She said she was relieved when I got into the accident. Said she was finally free.”
The words hung heavy in the air, each one a hammer blow to my heart. I looked at Leah, her face a mask of denial and fear. Her eyes, once filled with love and concern, now held a cold, calculating glint.
“Dad,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, “are you sure? Maybe you misheard?”
He shook his head slowly. “I heard every word, son. Every cruel word.”
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The woman I loved, the woman I had vowed to cherish, was a stranger. A stranger who had pretended to love me, who had plotted my father’s demise.
Anger, cold and furious, surged through me. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to tear her apart. But instead, I felt a deep, suffocating sadness. The woman I had loved, the woman who had filled my life with joy, had been a lie.
Leah, her face contorted in a mixture of fear and defiance, tried to speak, but no words came out. She turned and fled from the room, her footsteps echoing down the hospital corridor.
I turned to my father, his gaze filled with a mixture of pity and regret. “I’m so sorry, son,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I wish I could have warned you sooner.”
As I watched Leah disappear from view, I knew my life would never be the same. The trust I had placed in her, the love I had cherished, had shattered into a thousand pieces. The man who had awakened from a coma had not only saved my life but had also saved me from a lifetime of heartbreak.
The road ahead was uncertain, filled with pain and disillusionment. But I knew, deep down, that I would rebuild. I would learn to trust again, to love again. But this time, I would be wiser, more cautious. I would never again allow myself to be blinded by love, to let my guard down, to let someone else define my happiness.
The experience had left an indelible mark on me, a constant reminder of the fragility of trust, the importance of vigilance, and the enduring power of truth.
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