Dedication . . .
It was when I was in the eighth grade that I met Amy Nutz. I had just moved to a new city and I didn't know anyone at the junior high.  The counseling department had students take the new ones around the school and show them their classes.  My guide, Katie, invited me to share lunch with her and her friends.  Little did I know that those friends would become my whole world in junior high and when I went to high school a couple of them would stay true.  Amy was one of those.  When she found out that I wanted to be a writer she asked if I would dedicate my first book to her.

Amy was one of those people who liked everyone and made everyone feel special.  There wasn't a person at school who could resist her humor and that unique smile.  She always had something funny to say about any situation and always knew if you were feeling down.  Those times that she graced you with her presence were priceless.  You felt like you were at the top of the world when she sat down next to you.  She wasn't popular in the way that most people think of.  She wasn't on the cheerleading squad, or student council or didn't play any sports.  But there wasn't a person at school who didn't know who Amy Nutz was.

I was lucky enough to place in the same choir with her, where we stayed for the rest of our years in high school.  We were both altos and although we didn't always get to sit together, she was never more than an arm's reach away.  We had both shared our fear of singing solo, but would sing proudly in a group.  Often times duing lunch she would grace us with a little tune on the piano.  She was often nervous playing in front of people but I don't think she would let that stop her.  In our senior year we decided to team up as Morale Officers for our choir.  It was our job to celebrate the girls' birthdays and plan parties.  I will never forget how she used to sing to them in sign language "Happy Birthday" and put on the act of Marilyn Monroe singing to the president.  We may not have been the best Morale Officers but Amy sure made it so we had fun.

After we graduated we all went our seperate ways.  The last I knew she was going to Nevada to attend community college.  I remember thinking what an adventure she was going to have.  I stayed in our home town and attended a nearby community college.  I still saw some of my friends from high school but we all were leading different lives with classes and work.

Almost two years after we had graduated from high school I got a call from my friend Candace, who had been in choir with me and Amy.  I was so excited to hear from her and couldn't contain my happiness at finding out it was her.  When she told me that she wasn't calling under good circumstances I felt the world drop out from under my feet.  Something was wrong.  Somebody had gotten hurt and it had to have been someone I was close to or Candace wouldn't have called.

It was Amy.  She had been down here  visiting her family to tell them that she didn't want to live in Nevada anymore.  She was planning to drive to Michigan to live with her grandmother and attend school there.  While driving through New Mexico she got stuck in a very bad snow storm and lost control of her car and hit a truck.  She died in March 2002.

I was so devestated even though I had not seen or spoken to Amy in almost two years.  I remember standing in the kitchen staring at the phone long after Candace had hung up thinking there must have been a mistake.  Not Amy.  It couldn't have been Amy.  She was so special and had so much going for her.  She was going to be somebody.  She was somebody to everyone.  And when my mom asked me who had died I knew right then and there that this was reality.  Amy was gone.

So many memories came rushing back over the years.  How we both laughed at having to wear braces through most of high school, sharing fries in junior high at our lunch table, warming up in choir by giving back rubs, she was so ticklish!  Having Amy teaching us sign language to do with some of the songs that we sang, laughing at the stupidest jokes in choir and crushing on the presidents of choir council.  Once we even stole the mascot of the Men's Choir.  A stupid cut out of a cow with the words "Got Menz?"  It turned into a full blown war between the Morale officers of Men's Choir and us.  And how at the end of every year we sand the Battle Hymn of the Repubic for graduation with the combined choirs and the orchastra.

The thing that I regretted the most is that I never once called her up or wrote to her while she was in Nevada.  The night when I recieved the news of her death I remember thinking if she had been lonely in Nevada.  Did she have any friends?  Did she have someone to share her day's events with. Or did she every cry herself to sleep at night?

When I went to the funeral my fears had been laid to rest.  As I listened to her family and friends I realized that my fears had been for nothing.  Amy had been taken care of.  She had been loved by her family and friends dearly..  They talked and hung out and laughed and joked.  I was happy knowing that Amy had been taken care of for those last two years of her life.

To this day I still think that Amy was the last person who should have died.  She was such a good student, had great  morals,  loved her family, and was going somewhere in life.  She was loved by all and never disliked anyone that I could remember.  She was one of the people you were happy to know.  She was nineteen years old when she died.

So I here I am on my way to writing my first book.  This is for you girl, wherever you may be.
I would like to dedicate this book to Amy Lynn Nutz.  A promise made is a promise kept.  Although you spent so little time among us, you have finally made your way home. 
May you always fly with the angels.