I hope you don't mind me sharing this rather lengthy message. On October 14, 2001, a 16-year old friend, who had just gotten his license, asked if he and our 15-year old, Benjamin, could go out for pizza after the evening church service. Ben's father was doing some religious duties, so I told the boys it would be OK. I even told Ben that I would up his curfew from 9 p.m. to 11 p.m., since he hadn't seen the friend for awhile.
They were not back at our house at 11 p.m.
Since Ben was always good about letting us know where he was, I immediately called the local hospital ER. The young woman who answered was somewhat taken aback when I asked if our son had been admitted. All she would tell me was that the highway patrol was coming to our house. I suspected then that we were entering a world of a parent's worst nightmare. I awoke my husband and we waited...who could we call? We didn't know what specifically had happened or even where. At about 11:45 p.m., two patrolmen came to our door. It was just like you see in the movies, "I'm sorry. There's been an accident. Your son didn't make it." That's it. That's all. Those simple words have changed our lives forever.
We found out later that the young man driving the car had met another teenager he knew (whom Ben didn't even know) and he and the other boy decided to drag race on a country gravel road. At about 9:30, Ben's friend hit the pavement on an intersection with the gravel road, lost control of the car, and hit a tree on the passenger side (Ben's), flipping the car upside down onto a pile of steel girders left in the ditch from recent road construction. They said Ben died instantly of a broken neck. I'd like to believe the stories that say it all happens so fast that you don't know or feel anything...instead, I get to wonder the rest of my life if in his terror, he called out for his "Mom!" If he wondered where I was and why I wasn't protecting him. Not knowing what kind of a driver his friend was, we should have had much stricter rules about who Ben could ride with. But we didn't...
And Ben's friend has to live with the fact that he killed his best friend--someone who stuck up for him and introduced him to cool girls. Ben's friend had a mild concussion and injured his right thumb. He did some community service. We knew it was a stupid mistake, a tragic accident, so we didn't prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law. We knew Ben wouldn't have wanted us to be vengeful. In retrospect, that probably wasn't best for his friend, but we didn't want to further "ruin" his life. And, I guess, in a weird way, we still hoped we could be a part of his life since he was the last person who had seen Ben alive. Sadly, he has only really made one effort to talk to us in the last six years.
Ben was a gifted mathematician and was a year ahead in school. He played trumpet in the high school band and could also play the violin. He was set to begin working on his Eagle badge in scouts. He threw a newspaper and played baseball. He was quite handsome ("my beautiful, brown-eyed baby") and had a great smile. People at his funeral said they almost didn't recognize him without it. He loved church and "I Love Lucy" reruns. I'll never forget working around the house and hearing his laughter as he watched, or listening to him sing in the shower (he was pretty bad but he sure enjoyed it!). He had made it through some hard years of elementary school where we dealt with ADD. But , at 15, he was starting to "get it." Unfortunately, he wasn't far enough along so that when he saw what he was getting in to, he called me to come and pick him up.
In his memory we talk to driver's training classes and have set up summer music camp and newscarrier tuition scholarships. We were privileged to be at the ceremonial signing of a graduated driver's bill in the state of Oklahoma, affectionately known locally as "Ben's Law."
The acclaim has been bittersweet. I would rather have attended his high school graduation, heard about his first kiss, seen him in a tuxedo at his sister's wedding, or gone with him to college orientation. After six years, his friends have gone on with their lives, as they should...and we sit with a picture and empty memories of dreams that will never be. So young men who think drag and street racing are a natural high, why not come and sit with us for a couple of days? Maybe when you see how a person can still live, even when their heart is torn out of them, that will bring you back down to earth.
In Proverbs 23:19, it says, "Speak not in the ears of a fool: for he will despise the wisdom of thy words." I hope your words of wisdom didn't fall on the ears of fools, Dr. Phil, I really do. Or mine either...though I'm sure yours have more weight because I'm no one compared to you. And if not yours either, I only hope somebody's, sometime, somewhere get through to them, and thousands of others just like them. We can't let another precious young person die because fools selfishly resist curbing their impulses.
It’s no surprise that teens engage in reckless activities, but kids today are doing much more than sneaking a drink of alcohol. The newest trends can be deadly for your kids -- from street racing to car surfing. Dominic, 18, is obsessed with illegal street racing, and his friend, Justin, boasts that he’s driven 147 mph on the highway! Dominic’s mother, Susan, fears for his safety, but doesn’t know how to control him. Can Dr. Phil get the boys to put on the brakes? Then, 17-year-old Trais was street racing when he accidentally killed a wheelchair-bound mother of two in front of her children. Don’t miss his strong message for Dominic and Justin. And, meet a mom who worries that her 13-year-old daughter spends more time in a virtual online world than in the real one. Can Dr. Phil help the girl return to reality? Share your thoughts, join the discussion.
