Small Town Tragedy

I awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. I squinted at the clock. It was hard to tell the time without my glasses. It looked like 1:13 a.m. Thinking it was probably one of my drunk friends, I answered the phone, annoyed. I had been drinking that night myself so I wasn't sure if it was because of the alcohol or my being awakened that I couldn't understand the person on the other end. I was sure it was my friend, Christy* but she was crying which was another reason I had a hard time understanding her.

"Accident...Bobby...Dayrn...Dead."

I was starting to get annoyed again. What was she talking about? Bobby and Daryn might have been in some sort of accident but surely they weren't dead - hurt really bad maybe, but not dead.

In my state of confusion I did not realize my mom had gotten up and was standing in the entryway. I hung up the phone, tried to explain to her what was going on and told her I needed to go to the hospital to be with Christy. I wasn't sure if it was the magnitude of the situation or the smell of alcohol on my breath that prompted her to drive me the mile into town.

At the hospital, Christy was a mess. I suddenly felt a horrible sense of doom. Something was very wrong. I began to wonder if what she had told me earlier on the phone was true.

*name has been changed

My mom took both Christy and I back home and somehow our double-wide trailer became tragedy central. As news of the accident spread (which didn't take long in a small town) friends of Bobby and Daryn showed up. We were all crying, trying to make sense of everything when Bobby's ex-girlfriend blew through the door demanding to know, "what the f***s going on?"

None of us knew any of the details. We did know Bobby, Daryn and a friend of theirs had been in Bobby's pickup and it rolled causing the deaths of Bobby and Daryn. Their friend was in critical condition in a hospital forty miles away.

We decided we needed to see Bobby's pickup. We needed evidence. Honestly, I don't remember seeing his pickup - I just remember going to see it. What I do remember is going to Bobby's trailer where he had lived for only a short time. One of his favorite cd's was in the stereo and someone turned it on. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" by Warrant blared through the speakers. One of Bobby's best friends slumped to the floor pounding on it with his fists demanding to know why. We looked at and touched Bobby's things hoping to feel a trace of him still with us. I found a 20-page letter I had written him. It looked like he had read the whole thing.

Somehow we all drifted apart making our way back to the security of our homes and families. I decided to go to work the next day wanting to feel some sense of normalcy. By then the whole town knew. Customers, classmates, co-workers talked only of the accident. Everyone wanted to know what happened. Everyone wanted questions answered. Was there alcohol involved? How fast was Bobby driving? How was their friend doing? How could God let this happen? How was Bobby and Daryn's mother coping?

Monday at school wasn't any better. In every class I had with him, I expected Daryn to be there. His desk remained empty. There was a pastor who had come to talk to those who felt they needed someone to talk to. A group of us seniors went in together. I don't remember what he said. And it didn't matter anyway. According to my evangelical beliefs, Bobby and Daryn were in hell because I knew they were not born again. And that made me very angry with God.

Just a few days after the accident, Bobby and Daryn's friend was miraculously released from the hospital. Some classmates when out to his house to make a banner for the funeral the next day. He took us to the accident site and without anyone asking him to, he explained what happened.

The three of them had been at a party in town (Watford City) when Bobby decided he needed to go to his trailer (located in Keene about thirty miles from Watford City). In a hurry to get back to town, Bobby was speeding when he veered onto the shoulder of the road. Daryn yelled to warn him and Bobby over-corrected. As they rolled, Eric* said he did everything he could to hold on to Daryn, who was half his size. The force was too great and Daryn was ejected out of the vehicle in one direction and Bobby in another.

Eric said all he remembered was being on the ground thinking he heard Daryn calling out to him for help. Despite his injuries, he ran and found Daryn face down on the pavement. When he rolled him over he discovered that his face, which had scraped along the pavement, was nearly nonexistent. Bobby's body was discovered about 20-30 feet from his 1991 Toyota pickup. Eric told us that when the EMT's and the policeman got to the site of the accident, several of them were throwing up in the ditches.

Knowing what took place did not necessarily make us feel any better. Instead, it evoked more questions. Mainly the question why?

As we sat down in the sanctuary of the packed Lutheran church, my friends and I noticed several 'jocks' sitting in the pews across the aisle. We fumed with anger. Why would they show up, we asked each other. All they did was give Daryn a hard time for being so small. They weren't his friends. No, I later realized, but they were his classmates. And in a town the size of ours, whether you liked them or not, being classmates was something special - which meant they were grieving too.

Besides listening to Bobby and Daryn's mother wail, I don't remember much about the funeral. Afterward we hopped in the car to make the long 60-mile trek to the burial site. I do remember laughing with my friends and although it felt good, I felt guilty at the same time.

At the site, as we got ready to bury our friend and our classmate, we played a song in their remembrance. It was one of Bobby's favorites called "Red Rose" by an 80's hairband called Roxx Gang. As we went around laying red roses on each of their caskets, the words haunted us.

Let me touch your golden hair one more time
I feel so cold, the end is near...

You know how I hate goodbyes
One last kiss child, please be brave
And put one red rose on my grave.

bring my body home
I do not wish to lie alone
Let them bury me beneath the weeping willow tree
It's getting so dark, to dark to see

try to understand
The road to glory our lives pave
And as the angels take my hand
Leave one red rose on my grave

Somehow, in the midst of tragedy, life went on. Two weeks after the accident, prom was held. I didn't go. A month later the class of 1992 graduated from Watford City High School. We had our colors, our class saying, songs, tears, caps, gowns and everything else that went along with high school graduation. Still, there was someone missing and we all felt it.

It seemed for a long time that not a day would go by that I did not think of Bobby or Daryn or both of them. I tried, though, not to let on how I was really feeling. I buried the sadness, the angst, the anger and instead of tears, out poured rebellion.

Many years later, I still felt intense sadness when I thought of them and the tragedy that took their lives. I began to wonder if something was wrong with me. Why couldn't I get over this, I often wondered. It wasn't until I was in a counseling session that I realized my feelings were valid. And that some things, when looking back on them, cause us to feel sad and that was okay. The problem was I was not used to feeling my feelings so when I felt sad I felt bad and I didn't like that. It was easier to stuff my feelings and emotions rather than to feel them. I am still working on that.

Bobby and Daryn were two of the sweetest, funnest guys I have ever met. I did not know them for very long as Daryn had just moved back home from Montana to be closer to his brother Bobby who had moved back home from Phoenix. But I cherish the times I did get to spend with them.

I have memories of four-wheeling with Bobby in his pickup truck through the muddy hills of Western North Dakota. Of going on road trips with him and other friends. And Daryn - his collection of empty coke cans in his locker at school. He was a little quirky but so lovable.

Have I resolved my anger with God for their deaths? Yes, although there are still questions. I know though that His ways are not our ways. I also know there is evil in the world and that there is an enemy who seeks to kill, steal and destroy.

Many things have happened in my life since that tragic night. But now instead of trying to bury that event, I have been able to embrace it because it was and always will be a part of who I am. And now, when I hear of people suffering from some tragic event in their life, especially the loss of a young life, I have compassion on them and find myself praying for them even though I may not personally know them.

Another thing I have learned from both bad and good experiences is that no matter what comes my way, the Lord will always be alongside me and I can have peace knowing that He is the one constant in such times of uncertainty.