  When the passaangers were all exchangeding their thoghts and sorrows in their contest of pitty, the ones who spoke out all had one thing in common: their sons were ALIVE, fighting on the front line in the war. This could have stirred something inside the fat man, making im pitch his two cents. The fat man broke down simply because of this: His only son was dead. As he depicted his feelings for his only child lost to war, he was full of pride, and would even laugh to lighten the mood, or perhaps his own. To him, he made his so-n a living memory. So much so, that it could have made him deluded, torn beteween fantasy and reality; believing his son to still be alive even when he knows his son is dead. The fat woman's question, ignorant and insensative as it was, served as a wake up call to the fat man. When he heard her question, it made him realize that his son was indeed, dead. Not alive even in memory, but dead, gone forever. 
