There is one sound...
By Tracy Morris
Guest Columnist
Editor's note: Tracy Morris is the director of admissions and records at IVCC. Her story is one of unnecessary loss; a story that far too many are familiar with. In 1999, Tracy's sister Amanda was killed in alcohol-related car accident. Like many of our readers, Amanda was a 20-year-old IVCC student who only drank on occasion to have fun with friends. It is our hope that this story brings to life the real and likely consequences of drunk driving.
There is one sound -a haunting sound- that a person who has
experienced it will never forget. It is the sound of a knock at the door in the
middle of the night. My mom always told me growing up how much she would worry
about us, and always feared hearing that sound. I never really understood what
she meant. That is, until I heard it myself.
In the early morning hours of September 26, 1999 I heard this
knocking and had to open my parents' door to their worst nightmare. Standing on
our front porch were the coroner and several police officers who came to tell us
that my sister, Amanda, and her friends (ages 20, 18, 22 and 26) were dead. They
had been killed shortly after midnight and there was no way we would ever see
them again. As you can imagine, this was devastating for so many reasons but
most of all because we were all together that night. We had a family birthday
party and although we knew they were drinking, no one thought that the driver
(my sister's new boyfriend from the suburbs) was drunk. None of us thought to
take the keys or tell them they couldn't drive. I remember waving goodbye
without any worries. I knew they would get home safely and I'd see them
tomorrow. They weren't stumbling, slurring or acting at all drunk, although the
inquest showed that the driver was above the legal limit.
When asked to put into words how this has impacted my family,
there are no words, but it is clear when I see pictures of my family from before
the accident and since then. My brother was married just 3 weeks before Amanda
died and we have beautiful family pictures. In my wedding photos, there is a lot
of happiness, but you can see the emptiness that not having my sister there as
my maid of honor brought to that day.
My mother has been a speaker for Victim Impact Panels to talk
about the impact of drunk driving and has been involved in the Compassionate
Friends program that is support for parents who have lost a child. She has been
able to help many people along the way, but at such a great cost. As a family,
we tell stories about Amanda: what a free spirit she was, the crazy things she
would do, the practical jokes. These bring me more comfort now and I am able to
smile when I think of these memories, but it is still heartbreaking to think of
the things she didn't get to do: celebrate her 21st birthday, graduate from
college, get married, have children, live to regret the large Gemini tattoo she
had on her right arm and so much more. Next month, my sister would have
celebrated her 27th birthday.
When I talk about my sister and I share what happened to her,
I am always saddened to hear about how many other people have had to face the
loss of a family member or friend from drinking and driving. It happens too
often, and to too many people. In the 5 miles from Spring Valley to the site of
the accident, the lives of four young people were gone and the lives of hundreds
were changed forever. Amanda, Brooke and Bob were all from Putnam County and
were IVCC students. There is no way to take back that lapse in judgment; no way
to "do over." All it takes is to have one person be that designated driver; one
person to be the lifesaver for the night. Have a designated driver, or be that
designated driver. Choose to say "no," or find other things to do. Please save
your parents and your friends from hearing that knock on the door.