Читать книгу 155 - Hubertus Godeysen - Страница 16

Shortly before 10:00 in the morning, Karin Stieldorf is lying on the couch, reading the weekend paper, when the phone rings. It’s the mother of one of her son’s school friends. Mrs. Stieldorf notices right away that she is very distraught.

"Have you heard the radio? There’s a fire in Kaprun, on the glacier train, it was just on the news."

"What?"

"Up to 180 skiers on the train, they said, and I can’t get in touch with Franzi."

"Oh my God," says Karin Stieldorf, "I’ll call Matti right now."

She dials the number in a rush. Her heart is pounding so hard she can hardly stand still. Her breathing is loud and fast. "Come on, come on," she mutters, but there’s no connection. "The number you called cannot be reached now."

She convulses, a shudder running through her. The room spins. Her next move is to call her husband, Johannes, who is at a wine tasting in southern Styria. He, too, feels paralyzed. "What is going on there?" he asks, gasping, "I’m coming home right away!"

Johannes Stieldorf drops everything and drives to his hotel. Within five minutes he’s packed all his things. Meanwhile, in Vienna, his wife is calling Matthäus’ number, over and over again.

"The number you called cannot be reached now."

She calls the Kaprun police—maybe they know something. An officer explains that the cell network in the valley is down; she shouldn’t worry just yet. But Karin Stieldorf is already caught in a vicious cycle of hope and despair. Her thoughts are racing. "Are they on the train? Why can’t we reach them? Hopefully they’re sitting on the glacier, happy and well! Or maybe they just overslept? Why in God’s name can’t anyone reach even one of the five of them?" She calls her husband again; he’s already on the southern highway, racing towards Vienna. "Johannes, if there’s a fire in the tunnel and they’re on the train, they have no chance!"

In the meantime, the first worried relatives arrive in Kaprun. Reports of the catastrophe have been running on the news since 10:00, mainly by radio.

"Fire in the Kaprun glacier train, skiers trapped," say the earliest reports.

"180 skiers trapped," announces a horrifying update.

The news spreads like wildfire. Those who manage to reach their loved ones by phone right away can count themselves lucky. For many other mothers, fathers, and relatives, this is the beginning of hell on earth. There were many children and young people on the train. The snowboard opening in Kaprun was a big draw for youth.

All over Austria and Bavaria, desperate people set off from their homes. All they know is that the train has burned. They know their children are in the area, and that they can’t be reached by phone. They gather in the Kaprun youth hostel, where the media circus descends on them. By late morning, they can already guess no one survived apart from the twelve who ran down, but hours of torment go by before they can be sure.

Late that afternoon, the Stieldorfs arrive in Kaprun, too. They pass the hotel outside the center of town where their son and his friends spent the night, then drive through the Schaufelberg tunnel, straight to the glacier railway. Even before they can see the Kitzsteinhorn, they encounter the first roadblock. Behind it, the Landesstrasse has become one huge car park, filled with emergency vehicles, private cars, and buses from TV stations with satellite dishes on top, coming in one after the other.

"Our son is missing," says Johannes Stieldorf curtly to the police officer who stopped them.

"Go left over the bridge to the youth hostel over there, please." He points to a plain yellow building on the other side of the brook. "One of my colleagues is expecting you and will take you into the hostel."

Without a word, the Stieldorfs drive on to the youth hostel while a military helicopter takes off from the neighboring soccer field and heads towards the Kaprun valley, which gets smaller and smaller until it vanishes into the horizon.

At this point, the investigators can only determine who is lying dead in the tunnel through a process of elimination. On the glacier, they take the names of those who made it up before the accident or took the cable car. Everyone leaving the valley must register at a checkpoint. Lists are made of all the missing people who don’t turn up at one of these places during the day. The Stieldorfs are on the verge of a nervous breakdown among dozens of others suffering the same ordeal at the youth hostel, their distress filling the room as they stare into space or bury their heads in their hands. Paramedics and psychologists make the rounds, trying to connect with them. Sausages are simmering away on a table next to disposable plates and slices of black bread.

The Stieldorfs’ gaze quickly falls on the list taped to a wooden board. They skim the alphabetized names and what they see shakes them to the core: all five young men are on it.

"Johannes," says Karin, "If they were on the train and they ran up, they’re dead."

Her husband knows his wife is right, but he responds, "Come on, Karin. Matti is in such good shape. Maybe the boys are just walking down to the valley and they’ll turn up soon. We mustn’t give up hope."

The Stieldorfs run into the parents of Matthäus’ friends. They try to keep each other’s spirits up, but no one is really expecting a miracle anymore, which is what it would take at this point. Though the fire was hours ago, no one from the emergency services has the nerve to confirm anything with certainty in these moments of waiting and hope.

"Tell us what’s going on!" the relatives demand of them, suspecting they know more than they are willing to admit. "You know what it’s like in the tunnel!"

Not until that evening, ten hours after the catastrophe unfolded, do the emergency workers tell the dozens of relatives at the youth hostel that their beloved child, their father or wife, is almost certainly dead in the tunnel. They ask for the missing people’s toothbrushes or hairbrushes so the casualties can be confirmed through DNA testing. For the many people gathered in that room, this is the moment their world comes apart forever.