Wednesday, April 29, 2009

April 30, 1982

That date doesn’t have quite as much meaning as it did to me 27 years ago. Wow. 27 years. It’s hard for me to believe that that much time has really passed. So, what happened? It’s not pretty. Really.

I was 16. I was on the soccer team, a junior in high school. And little did I know that a major, life changing event was about to take place. I was about to lose a friend forever.

That afternoon, my soccer team had played a game in a town about an hour away. We lost. 2-0. Up until that point, we’d been undefeated. It was a good game against intense rivals. The van ride home was uneventful. The Sugar Hill Gang booming out of the boom box in its rightful place on the back seat. My friend, Leigh, talked about her date for the night. She was going to be late. When we got back to school, I let Leigh climb over me to get out so she could, perhaps, make her date on time. I knew who she was going out with. I had a major crush on him. A relationship, really. He was 17. But still, I let her go.

I headed home with vague plans for the night with another friend, including meeting up with Leigh and her date. Those plans never materialized. Too tired. Staying home.

But just hours later, around 10:00, I heard emergency vehicles on my street. There was a sharp curve and it wasn’t all that uncommon for people to misjudge it and lose control. 4 houses down from mine, there was quite a bit of commotion. Ambulance, fire trucks, I’m sure there were probably police too, but time has worn away that part of the memories. So, being a curious teenager, I joined the other neighbors who had come out to see what was going on. And then, there was a sick realization. Even though the car was wrapped around the tree and difficult to identify, I knew the license plate. I knew who was in the car. The boy, Kipp, had already been removed and taken to the hospital. The girl, Leigh, was still in there. As they removed her, I saw her lifeless body on the stretcher, her fashionable add-a-beads tangled over her blood-soaked polo shirt. My shock was just beginning.

I ran home and called Martha, the friend I had earlier cancelled plans with. Leigh’s been in a wreck. Come. She and her father picked me up at a local convenience store, since my street had been blocked off by the police. We headed to the hospital to await news. At one point, they wheeled Kipp by us and he wasn’t doing so well. All we knew was that Leigh was in worse shape.

Finally her parents arrived. Panicked, her mother grabbed me and shook me and asked where Leigh was. All I could do was point to the doors that we weren’t allowed beyond.

Minutes passed, feeling like hours, as Martha and I waited to hear something. Finally, we were called into a very small room, where Leigh’s mother told us she was dead. Dead. He father could only sit there and sob. Martha and I were in shock. The wind knocked out of us, I don’t think either of us really knew what to do. As we left the hospital, we saw her little brother sitting on the curb crying. It was all quite surreal. Eventually, we went back to Martha’s house and started calling friends to tell them the horrible news. They, too, couldn’t believe the news.

The next few days were a blur. I think this event secretly bonded our small school all together. Our teachers had no idea how to handle it, our parents had no idea how to handle it, and we had no idea how to handle it. So, we all handled it together the best we could. Because I was so close to what had happened, and knew both Kipp and Leigh well, I always thought that I was one of the ones most affected by it. I never gave much thought to how the others handled it. Years later, I ran into one of our teacher, Mr. Andrews. He apologized to me for making me take him to the scene of the accident…a place I had to pass every day for the next year or more. I have no recollection of taking him there. Trauma will do that to you, I have learned. Or maybe it wasn’t any big deal compare to what I’d already been through. Either way, I didn’t remember.

There are other details I do remember. Too many to go into. The thing I do know is that this one event shaped my life more than any other event to date. I’ve lost my mother, I’ve been married, divorce, married again and have 3 wonderful children. And while all of those events are memorable, none has shaped me quite as much as that warm April night. Not necessarily for the better. Not necessarily for the worse. It just changed who I was.

So, to Leigh, may she continue to rest in peace.

12 comments:

Aliceson said...

What a heartbreaking story. Thank you for sharing. It's amazing how fresh these memories can seem.

A friend of mine was killed in a car accident in 2000. Still not over it, but life must go on for the rest of us. I had trouble driving past the accident scene too. Even now, 9 years later when I drive past I tug a little on my seat belt.

Anonymous said...

I did not remember that you had been one of the first on the scene. I did remember it was on that awful curve near your home. I didn't remember that you and Martha had gone to the hospital. I did remember that you and Kip had dated. I'm not sure why I knew that particular detail. Perhaps I always considered the conflict presented by your feelings for Kip and your friendship with Leigh. Most 16-year-old girls would have let that situation be a friendship deal breaker. Not Leigh Ann Williams. And, holy cow, I certainly didn't remember that you had seen them pull her body from the wreckage.

I actually remember very little other than the funeral. I don’t remember at all how I found out the news. I have a vague image of all of us grieving at school, but it’s very fuzzy. I guess I do recall the viewing and how strange she looked. Her face, that beautiful face, had evidently suffered extreme damage from shattered glass. They had puttied up the cuts and put tons of make-up on her (which was actually characteristic of Leigh.☺) She just didn’t look at all like the friend we knew and loved, with whom we played soccer and did crazy stunts that would have mortified our parents. I don’t recall the actual funeral service, but I have a vivid memory of the scene at the burial site. I didn’t want to leave. Most people had gone. For some unexplainable reason, I wanted to see them put her in the ground. I don’t think they let me. I remember weeping uncontrollably as someone (certainly not my 110-pound mother) dragged me to a car.

Wow! You’re right. It was a life-changing event for all of us. I do agree that you probably were one of the ones most affected by her death. Thank you for sharing your perspective, one I’ve never heard even after all these years.

Doris Freeman Matal said...

Leigh Ann, I do remember this and I am so glad you shared all of this. I had heard it was on your street but it was nice to read your perspective. I was younger than her (considered much younger at that age) but I have held that memory close forever...when life changes, when life seems tough, and, dare I say it, when my oldest daughter started driving. This was beautifully written. Take care, bless your heart.

Chrissy said...

Oh Leigh Ann, I didn't realize how close you were to the situation either. I remember Leigh was 3 years older, beautiful, always spunky, and nice to me. It seems like I remember he playing the soundtrack from "Arthur" during that time a lot.

And I remember the Chapel time, before her funeral, when Fr. Hale gave his sermon. He told us all, who were crying our eyes out, that we weren't crying for Leigh, but for ourselves because she wouldn't be a part of our lives anymore. He said it was really selfish crying. It made me mad at the time, and wondered if that were really true. But as the years passed I realized people need to grieve. It's wrong to brand grieving "selfish," seeing it's a necessary part of the healing process. Thanks for your blog.

Anonymous said...

I obviously remember less than anyone about the whole thing. I definitely and thankfully do not remember Fr. Hale's message to which Chrissy refers. I had lunch with my parents today, and we were remembering Leigh and the accident and the aftermath. My mom made a comment about how "There weren't any grief counselors back in those days. Y'all probably needed grief counselors." Chrissy, you're absolutely right that our weeping was crucial to our healing. My mother is correct that we needed trained professionals to walk us through the grief process. Fr. Hale was a product of his boot-strap generation, but it still doesn't excuse this insensitivity to 200+ heartbroken, devastated, confused children. Sure, some of us were 18, but the truth of the matter is, we were all still children, and Leigh’s death didn’t (and doesn’t even today) make any sense to us. It could have been a tremendous opportunity for him to teach us about the love and mercy of the God, about eternity, about the value of life. He could have talked about the impact we have on each other, why it’s important to have integrity and to be kind, using the fact the Leigh’s life had impacted each of us so significantly to emphasize that point. Yet, he chastened us for our grief. I’m glad there are some things I can’t remember. ~ Carolyn

Anonymous said...

Leigh Ann,
Enjoyed reading your blog. Those we lose too early, stay with us forever. I was driving down that street the other day and thought about the accident, guessing that not many who lived there now would even know what had happened there. I hope that her family knows how we all remember Leigh and their pain.
Kitty Fickes

Just Kiddin' Photography said...

wow. just...wow. I'm so glad you did find my blog again and I'm honored that you read! What an amazing story. Isn't it amazing how certain things happen that mold us into who we will be forever and ever? I truly believe that as hard as it is to have someone close to us die when we are young...it's a good thing. It teaches humility and a true respect for life. My mom died when she was 40. It changed my life forever and even though it was cancer and we had six months to prepare...it still felt like a car crash. It felt like it happened soooo quickly.
I'm thinking about you and praying for you and I've enjoyed reading about your beautiful family!
jennifer

Anonymous said...

This was the first time I had actually experienced death in my life. I think it changed me. I have told my boys this story about Leigh on a number of occasions. Leigh used to tease me a lot but it was always in good fun. Today I thought a lot about her, her family, and how close we were at Hale. This definitely made us closer. A lot of us have moved on to different lives in different places. She will always be remembered.

Basil Hassan

Anonymous said...

Thank you for posting this. Leigh teased me a lot at school as well, Basil. It's funny, I can still hear her voice mocking my name. But it was all in fun. I had left Hale when the accident happened, but I found out immediately, because I was in a car lot retrieving a towed car with a friend, and the wrecked car was there. Blood all over the front seat. I can still see it. I barely knew her, but her voice and that car stick with me to this day. So sad. I said a prayer for her today. Erika

mer@lifeat7000feet said...

What a tragic story. I am sad for your loss because even though it happened so long ago, it seems so real. I can't imagine how you could witness somethign like that and NOT be affected. Wow.

Anonymous said...

Leigh Ann, thank you very much for posting. I can honestly say there have not been more than a handful of days in the past 27 years that I did not think of Leigh, and of that night. It was certainly a lifechanging experience. I'll never forget all of us gathered at Martha Perry's house. I was out late that night, and if I remember right I was the last to get there. It was devastating to see all my classmates, friends, many still friends today, in such a state of despair. We all continued on like that for a long, long time. Noone really knew what to do. Our teachers and parents did their best helping us, and we tried to help each other. Leigh was like a sister to me, more than a sister. I had known her since we were four. I have had the opportunity to see the Duncans from time to time, and while it is hard, and the memory of Leigh is right there on the surface, there are a few more smiles as the years go by. Thanks again Leigh Ann. Regards, Jim Welch

Anonymous said...

My dear wifey ;),

My thoughts, too, every April 30th are always on the events of that night and the days and weeks that followed. I know of one positive thing that came of Leigh's death - it cementedthe bond between you and I. I don't know what I would have done without you during that time and I can only hope I was a fraction as helpful to you as you were to me.

Thank you for still being as important to me now as you were then.

Shout-outs to all you Halies, and Erika, I too can hear Leigh calling your name - as if it were yesterday!

- Teresa Mitchell (also known as Leigh Ann's wife :) )