“It’s just a tarp.”
That was the response given when someone questioned whether it was really necessary to post a video of a fatal motor vehicle accident and zoom in on the body covered by an orange blanket.
Just a tarp.
But it isn’t.
Underneath that tarp is a human being.
A person who woke up that morning with plans, responsibilities, memories, dreams, loved ones, and a life that mattered. A person whose family may not even have been notified yet. A person whose spouse, children, parents, siblings, friends, or coworkers are about to receive news that will change them forever.
The orange covering isn’t there for the curiosity of strangers. It is there to provide dignity and privacy in death.
Somewhere along the way, respect seems to have been replaced with views, clicks, likes, shares, and reactions. We have become so accustomed to recording everything that many people no longer stop to ask whether they should.
Not every moment is meant to be broadcast.
Not every tragedy is content.
Not every loss belongs on social media.
What troubles me most is not only the decision to post the video, but the apparent inability to recognize why people found it offensive. To dismiss concerns with “it’s just a tarp” misses the entire point.
It is not about the tarp.
It is about the person underneath it.
It is about the family who may come across that video while scrolling through their phone.
It is about the loved ones who are trying to process unimaginable grief while strangers zoom in for a closer look.
It is about remembering that death is not entertainment.
We often talk about showing respect for first responders, healthcare workers, and those who serve our communities. Yet true respect should extend to everyone. Whether the victim was a police officer, a traffic control officer, or an ordinary citizen, they deserve the same dignity in death that they deserved in life.
Compassion costs nothing.
Respect costs nothing.
Choosing not to exploit another person’s final moments costs nothing.
Before posting a photo or video of a tragedy, perhaps we should ask ourselves one simple question:
If that person underneath the tarp were someone I loved, would I want the world zooming in for a better view?
If the answer is no, then maybe it is time to put the camera down and remember our humanity.
Because it was never “just a tarp.”
It was always a person.
