It was somewhere near 7:30 p.m. that night when I got my phone call. The dreaded 'phone call'. Keith & I had gone with some friends to play Bingo. There was a big buy-in going on that night and the hall was packed, I'm sure there were over 1000 people. We were seated and getting ready to start the games when I heard them page someone to the front. (This meant you had a phone call) I turned to Keith and said, "That sounded like they tried to say my name". With a last name like ours, it is frequently mispronounced and not expecting anyone to page me. . .I continued with what I was doing.
In minutes, a security guard came right up to me and said, "Janna, there is an emergency phone call for you and you really ought to take it". At this point, still unconcerned (guess I did not hear the word emergency) I followed her to the front to take the call.
It was my son, Chris, and he did not sound that distressed. He said, "Mom, I've got some really bad news for you". I guess being a mother, the first thing I said was, "Have you been in a wreck?". He replied, "No, not me". "Who then?". "Come to Granny's". "Who is it Chris?" "Mom, just come to Granny's". By this time, I was getting really anxious and kept demanding to know who. Kere had always been a safe driver. . .her name never came out of my mouth. I heard Chris turn to someone in the background and say "Should I tell her?". I kept yelling into the phone, "Who is it Chris?". Chris then came back with, "Just a minute, Poppy (my dad) wants to talk to you". My dad got on the phone and I immediately said, "Poppy, who is it?". He replied, "It is Kere". I am extremely anxious at this point. . ."Is it bad?" "Yes" "Where is she?". Then came a long pause. . ."Poppy, where is she?". Then in a still and somber voice, "At the medical examiners office".
At that point I became hysterical. I remember yelling "NO!" and falling on the desk where the phone lay. I dropped the phone, and continued to yell and scream out. The hall became silent. I picked the phone up, would ask my dad a couple of questions about "how and when and where" and then drop the phone and yell and scream. I remember the security guard saying, "Let's go to the back, let's go to the back". I said, "Where is my husband?" and I heard Keith say, "I am right here". I would pick the phone back up, ask something else, drop it. This continued for I don't know how long. . .
From there, I know we drove to my parent's house. . . about 30 miles away. I don't remember much of what went on there. I do remember seeing Kere's estranged husband (Kere had been coerced by my mother to marry, she was married less than a year and they had been separated for 6 months.) walk through with a huge plate of food. I know Chris was there, and I suggested that he call his girlfriend, Mandy, to come up. Other than that, I don't recall much. I don't know how long we stayed there. . . Mandy came up and that was beneficial to Chris. We left for the house, Chris and Mandy followed.
I got home, I had cried for so long and so hard. I remember feeling dizzy and laying down on top of the bed. I had not eaten, yet my stomach was rolling. I was nauseated. I tried to lay still. Next, I was running to the bathroom, I dropped to the stool and started to heave. I remember Keith right there at my side saying in a helpless voice, "What can I do to help you?". I don't know what time it was when I finally went to sleep. Some time in the middle of the night, I woke up crying hysterically again.
Contrary to what I'd hoped, I woke up and it was all true. Kere's body had been sent to the state medical examiner for an autopsy (automatic with an accident victim). The law is so senseless at times, but due to the fact that she was not legally divorced, it was upto her estranged husband to make funeral arrangements. I wanted to go to the Midwest City Police department and talk with the officer that had actually worked the accident. I wanted to know what really happened. When we got to the police department, it was like they knew who I was before I even said. The officer that worked the accident the day before was on duty and they called him into the station. The entire police department was respectful and courteous to us, willing to help and comfort us in any way they could. When the officer arrived, I told him who I was and that I wanted to know what happened, if he knew. He told me, "Oh, I know exactly what happened" and led us back to his office. He told us the story, drawing out diagrams as he went. He was very kind to me. . .I really appreciated that. I told him that I wanted to see the car. (Why on earth. . . I don't know) He told me that there was still an 'investigative hold' on the car, but I insisted. So he agreed to let me see it the following day. He told me where the car was being held and to meet him there at 9am on Sunday morning. The last thing before leaving, he gave me her purse (a small green clutch) that he had retrieved from the car. Next, was the funeral home to meet "Bimbo" to make arrangements.
The next morning as planned we met the officer at the salvage yard to see the car. Yep, here it is. She was driving this 1986 New Yorker. The windshield was not broken in the accident, they had to break it, to remove her from the car. A tank, you would think it would have stood up a little better. Least I thought it should have.
The driver of the other car, was a 23 year old male. The white car, 'other car', is a Toyota by make. (Keith had the camera, I'm now glad he did and was taking pictures of everything. The officer that he caught a picture of here, is the one who investigated the accident and was so kind to me.)
Sunday afternoon, we were finally notified by the funeral home that Kere was ready. From the time they let us in, I never left, only when they locked the doors for the night. Then the very next morning, I was right back there, I did not want Kere to ever be alone. In the rare times that no one else was there, I would pull a chair right up beside her and lean on the side of her casket and just talk. What about you might ask?? I don't remember, I just talked. I do however remember being chastised by my parents, siblings and the like for not leaving her side. My husband on the other hand did not try to tell me how I needed to grieve, he just let me do it in my own way, for that I will always be grateful.
I only remember a couple of things about the actual service. I know that "Bimbo" decided to play way too many songs. During the songs, the audience was expected to 'sing-a-long'. Give me a break! The other thing that irritated me was the minister talking about how happily married she was. . . and that she wanted children, and so on. The service was held at the church where she sang and taught sunday school. It was also the church where my parents are members. My mother did not want it known to her church family that Kere was separated and in fact was seeing someone else. Slightly hypocritical?? Yes, she wanted children, but not "Bimbo's"!
If it sounds like there is bitterness amongst my family. . .there is. If it sounds like my family is extremely dysfunctional. . .it is. Losing a child is a nightmare, one that does not need to be complicated with control issues and foolish antics. Recovery for me, needless to say has been extremely difficult because I do not have family support systems to turn to. I spent the first year after Kere's accident in counseling, I went faithfully on a weekly basis. I was also prescribed antidepressants, which I still take even now. After all of this, I KNOW Kere died knowing that I loved her, and that is ALL that matters to me.
Due to the significant injuries that the 'other driver' sustained, it was January of '97 before the state prosecuted their charges. He was charged with "negligent homicide". I followed the procedings closely and again gained strength and comfort from the authorities. The assistant district attorney that was handling the case was a young female. She called me on a weekly basis (sometimes even more, sometimes from her home) and kept me informed about the case. She very much wanted my input regarding punishment and what "I needed" to see happen within the extent of the law. One thing that was important to me (and I still do not regret) was meeting this driver, putting a face with this individual. For a few weeks, the DA seemed to discourage this. . ."we don't usually do that" she would say. I am not sure at what point, she figured out this was really important to me. She finally replied that she would "see what she could do".
Finally, I got my wish and a meeting was arranged with Keith & I, the DA, the driver, his family, his attorney & the Judge. I had promised the DA that I had no intention of "crucifying" him, I only wanted to see remorse. The driver of the 'other car' was of a different nationality and the DA had some concern due to his culture. She told me at one time, "He seems more concerned for his own injuries, I haven't seen much remorse".
I had a couple of weeks to prepare what I wanted to say. When the day finally came, I took an 11 X 14 portrait of her tucked under my arm and my carefully written notes of what I wanted to say.
The 'other driver' appeared in a wheelchair with his entourage. We met in a small conference room, introductions were made and I was allowed to address the room. I held Kere's picture firmly against my chest and introduced her, "This is my daughter". The 'other driver' never took his eyes off of her picture. His mother sobbed out of control. My speech told of many of the accomplishments that Kere had achieved in her short life, her goals, desires, dreams. . .I was doing my best not to cry. When I had finished, you could have heard a pin drop. The silence lingered and lingered. Finally, the 'other driver's' attorney spoke up. He alleged that he was a new attorney and that prior to writing the bar he had held a PHD in psychology. "I don't think that could have been said any better. I think this has helped us all." The judge added that "we don't usually do this, but maybe we should start". The 'other driver's' mother continued to sob.
The DA and I had talked about punishment many times. The 'other driver's' attorney stated that his party intended to plead guilty and in no way dispute his actions. That he accepted full responsibility and he understood he would be punished.
The 'other driver' at my request performed community service. He also had to attend driver improvement when capable, plus 10 meetings with Compassionate Friends (to fully understand the devastating effect of his actions). The court also ordered restitution in the amount of $1300 and some odd dollars to go to the 'victim's protection fund', I think it was.
We were dismissed and Keith & I walked toward the door with the DA. Word came from his attorney, that the 'other driver' wanted to speak to me. I turned and looked as he sat very solemnly in his wheelchair, still at the table. I walked back over to him and as I approached he looked up at me and tears started to flow down his cheeks. He said, "I did not mean to kill your daughter". I replied, "I know that you probably did not intend to kill MY daughter, your actions could have killed anyone. Kere, just happened to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time." He then said, "Can you ever forgive me?" I remember saying, "I don't know, I am going to try."
The next thing I knew a very petite woman, still sobbing, came running up to me. She grabbed my arms and embraced me saying, "I so sorry, I so sorry".
I learned later, the mother did not speak any english. I also learned that she knew my pain for she had lost not one, but two, sons in the Vietnam conflict.
As we left the courthouse that January afternoon, I knew I had done what Kere would have wanted. I did the right thing. Even now, over 3 years later, I STILL feel I did the right thing.
