- Jun 27, 2003
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Russ
I share this story not at the beginning, but in the middle.
A high-speed police pursuit chased after a car jacker. January, Sunday, and the Superbowl game has just wound to conclusion.
The traffic was still light as families and friends continued in celebrating or commiserating over losses of each team. The car jacker propelled through an intersection and slammed into a small red Celica. The noise dwarfed sounds of all else demanding attention. A red smear of colored metal catapulted sideways, twisting but regaining balance on all four tires. Without slowing down, it connected headfirst into a cement light pole. It was not a silent stop as realigned fragments screeched metal against metal. Sounds popped as hot liquids came into contact with cooler sources. There was a crumbling rustling sound, heavy, and tiny shards of glass from the last unbroken window dissolved, powdering, falling as false diamonds against the light pole's glare.
There was no movement inside where three young men sat but a moment ago. The stolen Town and Country car having received little damage, rushed away from its second crime scene.
The Police continued pursuing without pausing to check on the welfare of the second car.
The damage done to the small car was so severe that identifications could not be found from two of the young men's missing wallets. One was later found stuck deep inside his car seat. One wallet was found on the street. The last young man's wallet held an old address; so family members could not be immediately contacted.
These were my son's (Geoff) best friends. Earlier that day, they asked my son to go with them to see a movie. It was rare for Geoff to turn them down, but he was not feeling well.
Now three young men in the car, two dead. The third was alive but unconscious.
The police were later able to pull identification from Jason, the only one who's wallet was immediately found. However, the week before he moved from his family's home to his first apartment in preparation for his upcoming wedding. His family also moved. The police scrambled trying to find family, someone. It was the coroner whom finally discovered the address of Jason's new home.
The fifth young man of this group (including Geoff) was waiting at Jason's new apartment. He just got off of work and was waiting for a ride 'with the guys'. After Jason finished picking up the rest of the group, he was to swing by and pick him (Russ) up.
The coroner drove to Jason's apartment hoping to connect with loved ones. Russ was there. The coroner explained what had happened, and Russ made the decision to identify the bodies. He thought he could protect others from going through the nightmarish process. You see, Jason was engaged, Andy an only child.
I still battle with anger over the wisdom of allowing him to take over this task.
For Russ, the images seared across every thought. Day and night, he could see nothing else in his mind. Two weeks later, he could no longer live with the images, the guilt of being left behind so he ingested two bottles of pills.
His Parents found him before he passed out and made him throw them up. Gave him a lecture on getting his act together-and the importance of keeping up a proper image.
Then they dropped the subject without getting help. Going out of their way in not talking about it, they thought silence on the subject meant success, the deep wounds of their son was healing over.
Three weeks later my son called Russ at home. Russ groggily answered the phone-he once more took a lethal overdose of prescription pills. Russ made Geoff promise to keep confidentiality, but terrified, my 17 year old son broke down and told me.
I immediately called Russ' parents, relaying information Geoff gave, but the response I received was cold. His mother inferred that I had no business interfering with the confusion her son was currently going through. That he was only doing it for attention, and she was sure it was not lethal and yes, she would check to make sure.
Then she shared that he tried it once before, and that it didn't work then.
She politely requested that I butt out, and hung up on me.
I was frantic. Geoff was crying, shaking, pacing a hole in the carpet as I talked on the phone. I called a friend for advice, and then called an emergency hotline. Their advice hit on the mark:
First, that it was/is against the law to kill yourself and second, that Russ was a Minor-and that because of that, there were a few choices that I could/should make.
I could ask the parents to take Russ to the hospital themselves where he could be monitored and helped, or I could make that call myself and have the proper authorities do it.
Time rushed by at breakneck speed. I called Russ' Parent's back and was bluntly honest. My voice shook, but I gave them the ultimatum in forms of choices.
They said that they would drive him in to a facility for monitoring and help.
I grabbed my car keys, afraid that Russ' Parents were simply buying time to keep me out of their hair. I was terribly afraid that their decision would cost the life of their son, so Geoff and I drove to the end of their street, hidden in the dark far beyond the nightlights.
Although it seemed like hours, it wasn't more than a few minutes when their front door opened. Russ was half carried, half dragged to their car. Geoff and I followed at a safe distance until they parked in front of the emergency room doorway.
Russ was admitted, had his stomach pumped and both he and his family received much needed help.
The end result?
Russ joined the military, put in his required 'time', and has his own business. He's married, and is the father of a beautiful, healthy little girl. Last time he was visiting here with his wife and child, I found it hard to speak. Spent an awful lot of time simply hugging, trying to hold back tears. Unsuccessful at that....
I think of how easy it could have been to treat Geoff's breaking of confidence as simply a 'mood-challenged' season. I think of how I could have bowed down to parental pressure in believing rights were something that they (the parents) alone owned in regards to their child; I think of how evil seeps into areas of our lives when we think it is behind us...that once the Spiritual Tow Truck removes traces of damage, and emergency vehicles interiors are cleaned and placed in their garages; we see that external tears are dried, and all seems to be fine. While the voices may stop in mid-sentence, many times they are replaced with looped horrors that replay like old silent movies against hearts that still cry.
I think of how God entrusts us all to listen to those voices-and respond in love.
I will never be silent again.
Life is too precious.
~Given in Love,
by-Karen
Submitted by Richard
FOR WE WALK BY FAITH, NOT BY SIGHT.~2 Corinthians 5:7
I share this story not at the beginning, but in the middle.
A high-speed police pursuit chased after a car jacker. January, Sunday, and the Superbowl game has just wound to conclusion.
The traffic was still light as families and friends continued in celebrating or commiserating over losses of each team. The car jacker propelled through an intersection and slammed into a small red Celica. The noise dwarfed sounds of all else demanding attention. A red smear of colored metal catapulted sideways, twisting but regaining balance on all four tires. Without slowing down, it connected headfirst into a cement light pole. It was not a silent stop as realigned fragments screeched metal against metal. Sounds popped as hot liquids came into contact with cooler sources. There was a crumbling rustling sound, heavy, and tiny shards of glass from the last unbroken window dissolved, powdering, falling as false diamonds against the light pole's glare.
There was no movement inside where three young men sat but a moment ago. The stolen Town and Country car having received little damage, rushed away from its second crime scene.
The Police continued pursuing without pausing to check on the welfare of the second car.
The damage done to the small car was so severe that identifications could not be found from two of the young men's missing wallets. One was later found stuck deep inside his car seat. One wallet was found on the street. The last young man's wallet held an old address; so family members could not be immediately contacted.
These were my son's (Geoff) best friends. Earlier that day, they asked my son to go with them to see a movie. It was rare for Geoff to turn them down, but he was not feeling well.
Now three young men in the car, two dead. The third was alive but unconscious.
The police were later able to pull identification from Jason, the only one who's wallet was immediately found. However, the week before he moved from his family's home to his first apartment in preparation for his upcoming wedding. His family also moved. The police scrambled trying to find family, someone. It was the coroner whom finally discovered the address of Jason's new home.
The fifth young man of this group (including Geoff) was waiting at Jason's new apartment. He just got off of work and was waiting for a ride 'with the guys'. After Jason finished picking up the rest of the group, he was to swing by and pick him (Russ) up.
The coroner drove to Jason's apartment hoping to connect with loved ones. Russ was there. The coroner explained what had happened, and Russ made the decision to identify the bodies. He thought he could protect others from going through the nightmarish process. You see, Jason was engaged, Andy an only child.
I still battle with anger over the wisdom of allowing him to take over this task.
For Russ, the images seared across every thought. Day and night, he could see nothing else in his mind. Two weeks later, he could no longer live with the images, the guilt of being left behind so he ingested two bottles of pills.
His Parents found him before he passed out and made him throw them up. Gave him a lecture on getting his act together-and the importance of keeping up a proper image.
Then they dropped the subject without getting help. Going out of their way in not talking about it, they thought silence on the subject meant success, the deep wounds of their son was healing over.
Three weeks later my son called Russ at home. Russ groggily answered the phone-he once more took a lethal overdose of prescription pills. Russ made Geoff promise to keep confidentiality, but terrified, my 17 year old son broke down and told me.
I immediately called Russ' parents, relaying information Geoff gave, but the response I received was cold. His mother inferred that I had no business interfering with the confusion her son was currently going through. That he was only doing it for attention, and she was sure it was not lethal and yes, she would check to make sure.
Then she shared that he tried it once before, and that it didn't work then.
She politely requested that I butt out, and hung up on me.
I was frantic. Geoff was crying, shaking, pacing a hole in the carpet as I talked on the phone. I called a friend for advice, and then called an emergency hotline. Their advice hit on the mark:
First, that it was/is against the law to kill yourself and second, that Russ was a Minor-and that because of that, there were a few choices that I could/should make.
I could ask the parents to take Russ to the hospital themselves where he could be monitored and helped, or I could make that call myself and have the proper authorities do it.
Time rushed by at breakneck speed. I called Russ' Parent's back and was bluntly honest. My voice shook, but I gave them the ultimatum in forms of choices.
They said that they would drive him in to a facility for monitoring and help.
I grabbed my car keys, afraid that Russ' Parents were simply buying time to keep me out of their hair. I was terribly afraid that their decision would cost the life of their son, so Geoff and I drove to the end of their street, hidden in the dark far beyond the nightlights.
Although it seemed like hours, it wasn't more than a few minutes when their front door opened. Russ was half carried, half dragged to their car. Geoff and I followed at a safe distance until they parked in front of the emergency room doorway.
Russ was admitted, had his stomach pumped and both he and his family received much needed help.
The end result?
Russ joined the military, put in his required 'time', and has his own business. He's married, and is the father of a beautiful, healthy little girl. Last time he was visiting here with his wife and child, I found it hard to speak. Spent an awful lot of time simply hugging, trying to hold back tears. Unsuccessful at that....
I think of how easy it could have been to treat Geoff's breaking of confidence as simply a 'mood-challenged' season. I think of how I could have bowed down to parental pressure in believing rights were something that they (the parents) alone owned in regards to their child; I think of how evil seeps into areas of our lives when we think it is behind us...that once the Spiritual Tow Truck removes traces of damage, and emergency vehicles interiors are cleaned and placed in their garages; we see that external tears are dried, and all seems to be fine. While the voices may stop in mid-sentence, many times they are replaced with looped horrors that replay like old silent movies against hearts that still cry.
I think of how God entrusts us all to listen to those voices-and respond in love.
I will never be silent again.
Life is too precious.
~Given in Love,
by-Karen
Submitted by Richard
FOR WE WALK BY FAITH, NOT BY SIGHT.~2 Corinthians 5:7
