| It was a beautiful, sunshiny day on September 9, 1992. Corey, just shy of three years old, was perched proudly in the back seat next to his new baby brother. He was dressed in his new, brightly colored, Hawaiian short outfit and could not wait to show his Mamaw. He had no idea that this would be the last time he would be wearing it, nor did I. |
| Once we arrived at Mamaw's house, Corey scampered into the house as fast as his tiny legs would carry him. As soon as he spotted her, he exclaimed, "Mamaw, like my new clothes?" While he and his father visited with my mother-in-law, baby Jordan and I headed upstairs for a changing and feeding. |
| The upstairs was empty and quiet, giving plenty of privacy for nursing the baby. The quietness did not last long, however, and the sound that broke the silence was one that brought me to my feet in an awkward leap. Normally, in a town like Clarksburg, I would not have paid much attention to the sound of screeching tires. This time, however, I just knew it was Corey. I don't know how I knew, I just did. I could feel it; my heart sank. |
| Confirming my intuition, I ran to the upstairs door and looked out to see my husband rocketing down the steps and my precious little boy lying in the road crying. He had been hit. My mind was scrambled with overwhelming panic. My first thought was to run after Corey. I had only reached the top step, when I jerked myself around and dashed back into the house. Realizing again that I needed to go down and check on my son, I ran back out the door. Again, I found myself back inside. I'm not sure how long I continued in this routine, before my mother-in-law finally seized me. She pried Jordan from my trembling grasp and forced me down the steps to Corey. |
| I must have been in a state of shock for quite a while, because the ambulance arrived before I did. Now stripped of his bright new outfit, my sweet little boy looked tiny and helpless, like a doll, pinned to the papoose board. The paramedics kept telling me that he only appeared to have a broken leg. Meanwhile, instead of transporting him to the local hospital, they were life-flighting him to Morgantown! I was terrified! |
| That trip to Morgantown was the longest ever. It seemed as if we would never get there. By the time we did arrive, the doctors already had him in traction. Thank God, the paramedics were right, he had only suffered a broken leg. However, the poor little guy had to spend a week in the hospital, with a pin through his teeny, little knee. Afterwards, he had to spend three weeks in a body cast. |
| Amazingly, Corey managed to be bravest through it all. His main concern was the fact that the paramedics had cut his new clothes. Forcing back my tears, I had managed a smile and a promise for a new outfit. Although this was such a horrifying and painful moment for the whole family, we were fortunate to have only lost the clothes and not the boy. |
| January 25, 2002 |
| Corey's Clothes |
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