Things That Go Boom in the Night

Last night at about 10pm one of Transocean's rigs in the Gulf of Mexico had an explosion. Right now, 24 1/2 hours later, the rig is still burning and eleven are missing.


When I first found out about this at 6am this morning I immediately felt the same way I did when the Cougar helicopter went down in Canada a little over a year ago. Jeramy is home today, not out on the rig like he was when the helicopter went down. But the feeling in your stomach is the same. It's horrible, just really horrible. We are hoping and praying that the eleven missing are found alive afloat in an evacuation capsule. Yet as each minute goes by, our hope and optimism can't help but begin to slip.


It's days like this that make me take a moment...or many moments...and think about our home, our family..our life. My husband has a dangerous job. He spends three out of every six weeks in a very dangerous environment. He does it for us, me and the girls, so that we can have a home and a life filled with all that we desire and so very much more. When Jeramy is home we strive to make each moment count. We love each other and the girls fiercely and are so very proud of our daddy when he leaves to go back to work every six weeks.


My heart aches for the families of those still missing and those that were injured. Jeramy's boss while we were in Canada is one of the injured. He has a family. They all have families and I/we/all Transocean employees are with them in thought and prayer hoping for the very best.

Thank you so very much to our daddy and to all the oilfield men out there, including my dad, grandfathers, uncles and many other relatives, that do a job that is highly unappreciated, highly needed and filled with danger.

I love you Jeramy and are happy every day to be walking this road with you, hand in hand.