In the hush of Saturday’s fading light,
A moment shattered, lost to the night,
He was still halfway out, caught in the fray,
Albert Stroman Jr., swept away.
The Toyota, once a vessel of routine grace,
Lost its way, betrayed by haste or fate,
Veered off the path on I-520’s edge,
A collision’s force, a cruel pledge.
The guardrail bore the weight of despair,
A barrier that could not hold or care,
And in its ruthless, unyielding might,
It threw him out into the night.
Forty-five years—a life, a story,
Now written in a fleeting, tragic glory.
From Salley’s fields to the asphalt grim,
A journey cut suddenly, stark and dim.
Emergency lights sliced through darkness deep,
Responders rushed, their vigil steep,
With hurried steps and steady hands,
They fought to understand what fate commands.
Time slowed as they arrived, swift and sure,
The ambulance’s siren’s mournful lure—
Nine minutes after the deadly crash,
They declared him gone, a final dash.
His passenger, spared from death’s cold grip,
Survived the chaos, the fateful trip,
Her presence a fragile thread in the dark,
A whisper of life amid the stark.
Questions linger in the silent air,
Investigation’s careful stare,
The coroner’s report holds secrets tight,
Pending tests to reveal the night.
A toxicology’s cautious gaze,
Seeking truth in the fleeting haze,
Did alcohol or drugs obscure the way?
Or was it simply the cruel sway of sway?
In mourning, hearts across the land—
Family, friends, a collective stand—
The loss profound, the pain so raw,
A life remembered without flaw.
Albert Stroman Jr., a name now etched,
In memories of love, of hopes, of rest—
A reminder of how fragile we are,
Beneath the vast and distant star.
His story, brief but etched in time,
Speaks softly in this mournful rhyme:
Cherish each moment, hold tight,
For life can change in the blink of night.
And as we grieve, we find a way,
To honor him in words we say—
A life that touched, a soul that flew,
Beyond the dawn, beyond the blue.
Our thoughts are with those mourning still,
Bearing the weight of silent will—
In memory’s gentle, tender light,
We keep his spirit shining bright.
