“Be alert, be smart, be sober." ~ 1 Peter 5:8
It was the year he’d dreamed for. A college business major, Trevor loved sports
and girls - a good combination for an athlete who’d already accepted a
lucrative NY modeling offer with hopes of earning enough money to pay his way
through law school.
We’d been best friends since high school. Now because of one seemingly harmless
decision, both our lives changed forever.
We’d been out enjoying a night of drinking and
socializing. Each drink seemed like a
better idea; conversations got more interesting; flirting got more
intentional. Under alcohol’s influence,
everything seemed fabulous.
A small voice nagged at me, reminding me that I wouldn’t feel very good tomorrow; that my actions might have consequences. But when drunk, I’m well beyond the point of caring. I just live in the moment!
Trevor was in no condition to
drive home. Frankly, neither was I. So, without a plan for a designated driver, I
recklessly drove his pickup … lost control … and slammed into a tree on Trevor’s
side.
Sirens woke me from oblivion. I heard a police officer say it was another
drunk driving accident. It took me a
moment to realize that he was talking about me.
I glanced over at Trevor.
He wasn’t breathing … or moving.
I wanted to tell the paramedics to save him, but I couldn’t. I wanted to say “I’m sorry” but I
couldn’t. All I could do was bawl.
Some would politely say that the tree inextricably changed
our lives that day. A horrible tragedy,
being in the wrong place, rain-soaked road conditions. But they’re wrong!
Truth is: I did it! I
hurt my best friend. And for what? For a night of irresponsible partying.
I plead guilty to a charge of intoxication assault and was
placed on 10-years’ probation. My goal of
becoming a football coach vanished.
Trevor didn’t fare so well.
His brain injury left him unable to talk or walk. He can’t dress or feed himself or go to the
bathroom alone. Once, fiercely
independent, he’s now forced to rely on others for everything.
Not only am I responsible for his lifelong disabilities, I’m
left with the penance of facing his family and friends for the rest of my
life. I may have stayed alive, but death
would have been a kinder punishment then living with this regret.
The only thing I can do now is to share my story and hope
others will listen. What will it
take? I pray it will never happen to
them?
Today I’m going to pick up Trevor. We travel the country now sharing our story
with high school students. Since he can
longer speak, I translate his thoughts for all to consider.
Maybe someday, that will be enough.
