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It was hot outside and very dark, for there was no moonlight on the night of July 18th. My husband and I had slept since 8pm and awakened at 3am to take our two sleeping children to our van. They could "snuggle in" and sleep their way to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, for our vacation.
Our tiny 6 year old daughter, Kimberly was tucked into the back of the van , along with 14 of her Strawberry Shortcake baby dolls. She awakened long enough to make certain her little ones were tucked in beside her. Jeffrey, our 12 year old son, decided he would stay awake for awhile. The excitement and anticipation of the trip was just too much for him. He would be meeting his 2 cousins the next day at the beach. He sat behind his Dad in the van. This vacation had been planned for and saved for for months. My parents, my sister, her husband and 2 children were going to spend the next three weeks with us at the beach. It was a dream come true for all of us.
We had finally reached the point in our lives that we were able to save money for things other than washers, sweepers and cars. This was our first big splurge! Everything was ready. I had been packing for days. We had enough cargo in that Chevy van to supply a scout troop for a month! Jeff was a Boy Scout, and we knew the meaning of the motto, "BE PREPARED". I had made coffee and filled a thermos for the road. We had a large cooler filled with "goodies" for the children.
We were ready for the time of our lives. We had worked hard for this much deserved vacation. For once, we were all perfectly healthy. No one even had a cold. We had been fishing and swimming for weeks, so we would be nicely tanned before the trip to avoid sunburn at the beach. Nothing was going to spoil this vacation, if we could help it!
We left our home at 3:15 am and drove in the dark toward Charleston, WV. It was quiet, except for my singing... We had traveled for about 30 minutes from our home, when we turned right, onto Route 34 at Winfield, WV. In about 5 minutes we would be on the interstate, could set that van on cruise and roll! I had just poured Bud a cup of coffee and handed it to him. I remember looking at the speedometer. We were going about 45 mph, and I thought to myself - "Good thing we will be on the interstate soon, we'll never get there at this pace."
At that very instant, I looked up and saw the lights. We were coming into a blind curve and there was no were to go. There would not have been time anyway. Now, I would like to describe to you how it felt to be hit by thousands of pounds of steel coming at you at a high rate of speed. The impact was like a BOMB. I will never forget it as long as I live. I will relive that nightmare for the rest of my life, I am certain. But this was just the beginning of our nightmare...
I suppose I was unconscious at first, but only for a short period of time. When I regainned consciousness, I remember first making myself breathe. I felt as though my chest was crushed, but I consciously made myself breathe. I could see nothing and heard only a spewing sound. I had no pain. I didn't know where I was. I was in a balled up position and felt that my leg was caught on something. Later, I learned that I had been wedged into the stairwell of the passenger's side at this point.
I was able to breath now, so I began to pray. I prayed aloud. I asked God to help us and if we were to die, to take us to be with Him. At that moment, I heard my little girl begin to moan and cry out for Mommy, and then I heard my young son moan in pain. There was no sound from my husband.
I began to smell something strange....and I began to panic. I had to save my children! I pulled myself out of that stairwell with all of the strength that I had. I couldn't see or determine where my children were. I was so afraid. I was terrified that we would burn to death...that the van would explode into flames.
I found an opening. At the time I didn't know, but it was the windshield. I pulled myself up through it and turned myself around to sit facing the rear of the van.
I could still hear Kimberly crying for me, but I couldn't see her. It was too dark. I struggled and then realized that I wasn't going anywhere. My right leg was tangled in the wreckage of the engine. At this time, my body was facing the rear of the van. My foot and the lower part of my right leg were pointing toward the front of the van. I continued to struggle...the cries of my children overwhelmed my ability to reason, and as I continued to try to free myself, I nearly tore my leg off. I began to feel pain - not my leg, but my chest. I became very scared and sat still... and then I saw the lights.
A single car pulled up beside the van. The man driving the car yelled to me, "Try not to move! I'll be right back with help! I'll get the emergency squad! I'll be right back!" and I screamed to him, "Please hurry! We are really HURT!" and I continued to scream as he pulled away, "Hurry, Please!" I don't know who the man was. He must have been very frightened by the scene he drove onto that dark night. I have asked God to bless his life in my prayers. Then, I heard "gurgling" sounds. In just seconds, I knew what those sounds were. Having been a Registered Nurse for several years, I recognized those sounds well.
Someone in that wreckage was drowning in fluids in his lungs. I didn't know who it was. The sounds were behind me as I sat facing the rear of the van. I did not know then, but those sounds of death were from the lungs of a 17 year old boy.
A young boy who had been to a party with some of his peers. (Please note that I did not call them, his friends.) He was speeding his way home, driving drunk. It was probably what some young people would have called a "great party". One of the older fellows in the group bought the "booze". (He was 19.) He and another young man had been in the car with the 17 year old just moments earlier. They had been dropped off at home, and they allowed their "friend" to drive home alone. Yes, alone. His older "friends" bought alcohol for him and let him drive drunk.
This young man had just graduated from high school. He was an honor graduate. He had a job, and was just beginning his adult life. He was an only child. I think of his parents often. How very sad for his Mother and Father. They will never know the joy of watching their son grow to be an adult. They will never know the wonderful love that we have for our grandchildren, for they have been denied that blessing.
And as I thought of these things, I was able to forgive and "put away" my anger.
The following is a statement of a member of the emergency squad, one of the first to arrive on the scene. I will always be grateful for these brave, truly caring, unselfish people. I think of them as angels...
"I was in the first ambulance on the scene. I stopped just past the wreck scene, and I ran back toward the drivers side of the car. As I reached the driver's door, I saw something on the ground. It was a little girl, lying beside the edge of the front wheel of the car. She wasn't moving. I checked to see if she was alive and she looked up at me and moaned. I could hear the man in the car. He was making a gurgling sound. I yelled for help. Someone brought a suction unit. We moved the child away from the car, and she was placed on a carrier. An EMT stayed with her until more help arrived. Then we broke the back window on the passenger's side of the car to get to the man in the car. We got into the car and used suction. Then, I went to the van where I saw the driver slumped over the dash, partly outside the windshield. A young boy was between the door and roof of the van. I talked to them both. The man was saying, "Get us out!" The Jaws of Life had not arrived yet, so we used pry bars to try to get the doors open, but couldn't. Then we entered the van from the back doors. By now, the Jaws had arrived, and they used them to get the doors open on the van. We got the mother out while more people were getting the man in the car out. Then we were able to get the boy and the father out of the van. We had to cut the top of the van off and break the seat bolts to get the father out. After everyone was out, I drove a unit to the hospital."
When I saw those red, flashing -lights, I thanked God. I was conscious and it seemed like it had only been minutes since the man in the car had left the scene and the emergency squads arrived.
They got Kimberly to an ambulance quickly. She had been propelled through the van, over four captain's chairs, through the windshield and had hit the wreckage of the other car. Then she hit the pavement head first. She was conscious and crying when they arrived. She asked the squad member to see about her "babies". That young man got into our van and found all 14 of her "little ones" for her and they went with her to the hospital.
Jeff was transported in the same ambulance with Kim. He was hurt very badly and was semi-conscious. They were transported while I was lying on a carrier in the middle of the highway. I saw the ambulance pull out and felt relief that they were at least in good hands and on their way to a hospital for care. While lying on the carrier, I turned my head to the left and saw beer cans in the wreckage. I knew they were not ours!
From where I was lying, I could see my husband, still in the van. They could not get him out. The steering column was in his chest. He had been conscious off and on while I was still in the van and had asked me the same questions over and over... "Are the kids, O.K.?", and "Are you all right?". Now, he was not conscious. He was still and quiet and slumped over the dash. I thought he was dead.
By this time I had begun to have pain - severe pain in my leg, my chest and all over. When I was placed in the ambulance I asked the squad member, "When can you get my husband out?". He answered, "We are working on it right now." And I thought to myself, "But you are not getting in any hurry, because it is too late for him."
I began to hyperventilate and thought I was going to die. I could not get my breath. They slapped oxygen on me and it didn't help...I was hurting, bleeding and SO frightened!
We were sent to different hospitals. Kimberly was taken to a hospital with a neurological unit. Bud was taken to another hospital with specialists of all kinds, and Jeffrey and I were taken to another hospital.
I do not remember much about the next week, as my memories are blurred. I drifted in and out of a drug induced sleep. On Sunday, I had surgery, and I also learned that we were all alive, except for the young man who had hit us.
Over the next 2 weeks, I was told about all of our injuries.
Kimberly had been in a coma for four days, due to her head injury. She had multiple abrasions and lacerations.
Jeffrey had multiple fractures. Both of his legs were badly broken and his right leg had been severed above his ankle. He had severe internal injuries which resulted in massive hemorrhage. He also had an injury to his right eye and had to wear a patch for several weeks.
Bud, my husband, had the most severe injuries. He had a head injury, a crushing chest wound, a badly mangled left arm and multiple fractures of both legs. His body was badly bruised and he had so many lacerations.
I had nearly severed my right leg. My right leg was crushed and mangled. I had a broken back and many large lacerations. My arms were black and my face was covered with cuts. (I have to thank a very handsome plastic surgeon for my nose....It may not be the prettiest nose, but you can be sure it is the most expensive!)
Those were our physical injuries, most of them anyway.
We were unable to see each other. I was not sure I could believe what everyone was telling me. I was not certain my family was all right. I was afraid everyone was protecting me from more pain, and that they were trying not to upset me. I cried most of the time, when I was awake.
Eleven days after the accident we were transferred back to our hometown hospital. Kimberly had made a miraculous recovery and was discharged from the hospital. She was staying with my sister and her family, where she was given lots and lots of tender loving care.
On Thursday, July 29th, we all got to see each other for the first time. And for the first time, I felt hope. We were together. We were strong and healthy and even though we were badly injured, we would mend. It would take lots of time, but we could do it together.
The folks at Pleasant Valley Hospital were our friends. I had worked there for seven years and my best friends were taking care of us. When we arrived at the hospital, there were balloons and banners everywhere, welcoming us home. We were allowed to rest and made so comfortable.
On Sunday, August 1st, I was bathed and had my hair shampooed. I smelled pretty good! The staff moved my bed into Bud's room which was next to mine. We had lunch together. We laughed and kissed, (that is not easy to do in traction!) and talked - mostly about our children. After about two hours, he began to have pain and requested an injection. I knew that if I stayed in the room with him, he would try to stay awake. So, I asked the staff to move me back to my room so he could rest. He looked so tired.
After I was moved back to my room, I was x-rayed for surgery the next morning. The technician moved the machine out of my room and it became very quiet.
As I was lying there, I heard my husband moan. A nurse had entered his room just seconds before. Then I heard the page...CODE BLUE ROOM 104!
I tried to get out of my bed and go to him, but they wouldn't let me. Both my room and his filled with people. The machines came , and I listened to the sounds of a team working with all their might to save his life in the next room. They worked frantically for at least 45 minutes and while they worked, we prayed.
At 4pm my husband died.
My Mother and Father were with me. Together, we told Jeffrey and Kimberly that their Daddy had died. My bed was moved into Jeff's room in the hospital, and Kimberly stayed with us. She laid her little head on my chest and cried. Jeff stared out the window. He did not cry...he said nothing.
On Monday, I was taken to surgery for repair to my leg. On Tuesday, I was taken to the funeral home in an ambulance. Bud's funeral was on Wednesday. Jeffrey was in traction. Kimberly had been readmitted to the hospital for blood poisoning as the result of a dirty wound on Tuesday night. And so, the three of us laid in our room in the hospital, while our Husband and Father was buried.
I would pray that I would awaken and discover that it was a bad dream.
But the nightmare was not over... From August - November, Jeff, Kim and I had intensive psychotherapy. Jeff decided to stop eating, and lost 40 pounds in one month. Kim had horrible nightmares. I had severe panic attacks. We were told that we were suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Jeff and I underwent additional surgeries, (so many times that I have forgotten how many.) Each time meant more pain, more suffering and more fear. Our legs would not heal. We were in casts for months on end. Wheelchairs, walkers, crutches...we had constant pain. We feared being crippled.
The Doctor was concerned that Jeff's leg would not grow properly. We waited. And through all of this, we grieved the loss of our Daddy... We loved him with all our hearts. We began to adapt to being a family of three.
Yes, THEN WE WERE THREE. We started to rebuild. I bought a burglar alarm and a dog. At times, I would lie in bed at night and listen to my children cry. The dog and I would go to them. I would sit with them for hours, and we would cry together.
Today, most of our physical injuries have healed. We have a lot of physical scars. However, our emotional scars are much deeper. We will never forget.
I still don't drive after dark on Friday or Saturday nights unless I absolutely have to do so. BECAUSE - one in five drivers after 8pm on those nights is driving under the influence of alcohol. Nearly 25,000 people are killed and 80,000 - 100,000 people are maimed or injured every year in the United States alone.
My husband and I spent many hours of our life together working with young people, and we had FUN. Honest to goodness fun! We traveled with high school students on many trips and we were an example to them. We did not drink. The young people whose lives we touched saw that it is not necessary to drink to have a good time.
Until everyone, each and every person, has the courage and conviction to stand up at the next party or get together and say... "Drinking and Driving is NOT ACCEPTABLE!" (It is criminal.), and until each of us is brave enough to prevent a person who has been drinking from driving, with whatever means it takes, there will be thousands more! There will be others, like my children who grieve the loss of their Daddy, who is gone from them.
By the way, the statement, "We will see Daddy in heaven", doesn't work. I said that to Kimberly and she replied, "THAT"S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!, I just want to touch him one more time, Mommy, I just want to SEE him."...as she sobbed as I held her in my arms.
There will be countless others who grieve the loss of their children, sons and daughters they have nurtured and loved since birth. Thousands who will suffer that empty hole in the chest that is known as a "broken heart".
Without the love of God and our family and friends, we would never have recovered. My parents were by our side each day and we were fortunate to have a very dear friend, Lisa, who lived with us during our recovery. Thousands of prayers were said for us. We do not have answers as to "why" this happened in our lives, but I know that God was with us. He strenghend me and gave me comfort all through the long, difficult period of grief and recovery. My heart would break when I would see my son in pain...and to see him try with all his heart to be brave and have courage in spite of so many set-backs. To see him try to stand, and then to attempt to regain his strength and walk again after having to endure so much pain was agonizing. So many were hurt. Not only our little family, but many, many lives were affected.
Today, I challenge you to be brave and courageous. Take a firm stand. Do not allow those around you to drink and drive. It can happen to anyone, to innocent victims, as we were. Until we cease to tolerate such ignorance and abuse in our society, it will happen again, and again and again. And I pray that it does not happen to you or your loved ones. No one should have to suffer so.
It is with much love I have shared our story with you. May God bless you and keep you safe in the palm of His mighty hand.
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