
As this was being written, many computers and televisions were tuned to news stations, watching in horror as a six-year-old boy was thought to be in a balloon at 7,000 feet in Colorado. The announcers said the bottom of the craft was only fiber board and would not last during a crash.
We held our breath and wondered: What's going through this kid's mind? He got in the craft, untied the rope and the balloon went up. Was this what he wanted? Had he fallen out already? Would he live?
And why were we watching? What makes us watch car crashes, cops chasing cars, train wrecks, natural and man-made disasters? What draws us?
By the time this article was finished, the balloon had landed and there was no child in the balloon. The sheriffs' and paramedics' faces showed their disappointment. At that point we didn't know if the child had fallen out elsewhere or if this was a hoax.
As it turned out, the child was found hiding in the attic. An assumption was that he'd let the balloon take off and became frightened, hiding so that he'd not get in trouble.
But why do we hold our collective breaths and watch and watch and watch?
Men's Health said that scientist think we watch partly for self-preservation--we can stop the same thing from happening to us if we get enough information about someone else's tragedy.
That makes sense, but sometimes there seems to be a fascination with tragedy. What do you think? Voyeurs or just interested bystanders? The conversation continues with you.
Just take it one gigantice, earth-shattering crisis at a time.