On September 8, 1994, my husband, Stephen M. Shortley, a 37-year-old handsome, kind and intelligent man with twinkling brown eyes, and a great sense of humor, was killed in an airplane crash in Pittsburgh. USAir flight 427.
All 132 people aboard died. It was the worst tragedy my family and I had ever experienced. It was an airline disaster that will be remembered in Pittsburgh for many years and I was smack right in the middle of it.
This is my story of how I survived a trip through hell and came out with a little piece of heaven.
This book was written to help those who suddenly find themselves in a club which nobody wants to join. It is my true and honest account of how I dealt with that ominous title of "Widowhood."
(cover of my book)
Two years after my husband died, I was driving along a country road deep in thought. Suddenly I realized I was lost. As I turned my car around in the middle of nowhere, I came face to face with a huge tree.
It was half dead half alive. I sat in my car staring at this remarkable looking tree. One half was full of bright green bushy leaves; the other half had bare almost dead branches.
"That is me!" I told myself. That is exactly how I feel without Steve. Half dead...half alive.
When they announced that USAir flight 427 had "NO SURVIVORS", they were wrong, we are the survivors.