A letter to the lady in the red coat

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 11/01/2011 (5576 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The neatly typed note held enough information to kick-start a novella.

“To the lady in the red coat,” it began. “I hope you find this. I am so sorry I didn’t say or do anything for you that day we crossed paths and you told me you wanted to jump in front of the train.

“I wish I had said something or called for help. Please forgive me. You’ve been on my mind ever since. I have revisited the path every day since hoping you’ll show up again. My heart skips a beat every time I hear the trains go by. I made these flyers because so you can know I cared than (sic) and still do.”

The notes were taped to poles along a well-trod path in Charleswood. The walking and jogging trail runs parallel to Wilkes Avenue. Trains thunder down the track all day. There have been completed suicides along the line.

Now, the only side of this story we’re going to hear comes from the writer, who signs herself The girl in the blue coat. She made their exchange public, likely in a effort to reassure the lady in the red coat someone cares.

None of us, at least not average citizens, would know exactly the right thing to say to a stranger contemplating suicide. If it was someone you loved, you’d talk, hold them, visit doctors and pray. You would ask them to wait until the black dogs have stopped circling, promise that day is coming soon. You’d lie if you had to.

But what if you don’t know the person making the threat? What then?

“The best thing is essentially standing with them and talking to them,” says Jessica Burton, office manager for SPEAK (Suicide Prevention Education Awareness Knowledge), a local non-profit organization.

“You have to eventually say to yourself ‘Did I do the best I can do? Did I ethically do the best I could?’ “

In other words, you intervene to the best of your ability. If you think you’ll be in danger, consider that. Realize there are people trained in suicide prevention. Call 911 if you have to and can.

Here’s more of Blue Coat’s note:

“You don’t have to do it. No matter what you’re going through, I promise you there is hope. Please call the number below, they can help you with anything, whether you need shelter, food, protection or just someone to talk to.”

She provides Klinic’s 24-hour suicide line.

“I promise you that things will get better and that there is always hope for a brighter future and if you seek help you’ll look back on this one day and be so glad you’re still here.

“You have so much to look forward to. I hope you ALWAYS miss the train.”

I hope Red Coat lady has seen Blue Coat’s letter. I hope she’s still walking down that path, able to feel the warmth of the sun. I hope she knows this young woman is holding out a sincere offer of help.

If you’ve ever walked a path that seemed to lack purpose or meaning, if you’ve wanted to hurt yourself just to feel something, you can perhaps understand Red Coat lady’s despair. We’ll never know what prompted her to tell a complete stranger she wanted to end her life.

But we will know our interactions with people, minor or fleeting, change us. They change them. Blue Coat can’t stop thinking about Red Coat. Perhaps Red Coat has read the note. Likely others have stopped, read the words and gone home to talk to their families.

The big secret about suicide is there isn’t one. A Manitoban dies of suicide every two days. The best thing Blue Coat did was educate everyone walking by.

Let’s hope we and our loved ones all miss the train.

lindor.reynolds@freepress.mb.ca