November 23rd, 2009, exactly two years since Jess and Kelli were killed on I-64 by a State Trooper.  It still seems like yesterday when they were taken away from all of us.  A lot has happened since then but then again, a lot hasn’t happened.  Sure, there are now cable barriers setup along the highway where they were killed, scholarships have been setup and used, fundraisers have taken place and new laws have been created.  This is all wonderful stuff but I still wonder about those laws.  I continue to see State Troopers driving at high rates of speed without their lights or sirens on.  Anytime I see this, I say a prayer for everyone on the highway because it could happen again, some innocent person could be killed because a State Trooper was not following the law.  Ah, but I am getting off the subject now.  As I said, a lot of things have happened but then again, a lot hasn’t happened.  I am referring to the criminal and civil trials, in other words, maybe getting some justice and closure.  Both trials have been delayed, for expected reasons I am told, and are now set for March and April 2010.  I am told they won’t be delayed again.  I guess I will believe that when I see it.
 
Do I sound bitter?  Yes, I suppose I do and I am.  There are many reasons why I am so bitter, but to avoid jeopardizing either one of the trials, I shall avoid putting my reasons down in writing.  The good thing is that the public has voiced those reasons for me through their comments on various newspaper articles and for that I thank all of them.  So, has the pain lessened at all?  No, it has not.  I still miss those girls and I always will and the pain never goes away.  I feel it every time I drive by the location of their deaths, I feel it when I go to their graves, when I listen to music, while eating, while doing almost anything, the pain is there.  No, the pain has not lessened, I have only changed the way that I handle the pain.  Between that and the support of family and friends, I go on living day to day.
 
Thank you to everyone out there for your support to myself and my family, Kim and her family and for supporting all of the good things done in Jess and Kelli’s names.  I know the girls are in a far better place and they watch over all of us as angels will do. 
 
Jess and Kelli – GOD bless both of you.  We miss you, love you and know that we will never forget you. 
 
Love you both,
 
 Dad, Wendy, Tony and so many others.

Webster defines sorrow as “a deep distress, sadness, or regret especially for the loss of someone or something loved.”

My definition of sorrow is an emotional pain that is so intense, you feel as if your soul is being torn apart and you don’t know if you will live another day. On Nov 23rd, 2007, I entered into my definition of sorrow due to Jessica and Kelli being tragically killed in an automobile accident.
I thought I knew what sorrow felt like but I guarantee that I really didn’t know until the girls died. I lived in a state of sorrow for quite some time. I constantly thought:

“Why did my girls have to die?”
“Could I have somehow prevented it?”
“GOD, how could you be so cruel to take these young, beautiful girls away from me, their mom, step parents, siblings, all other family and friends? How!!!!”
“What did they do to deserve this!!!”
“It isn’t fair!!!”
“I don’t know if I can live without them, I feel such sorrow and pain, someone please help me, it hurts so damn much!!”
“Why, why, why!!”

Above are questions and thoughts that continually went through my mind for a long time. Do I still ask these questions? Yes, sometimes I still do but not as often because I now have hope.

Webster defines hope as “to cherish a desire with anticipation.”

When did I start feeling a sense of hope? I really don’t know, I think it has been a combination of things that really started the day the girls passed away. At the beginning, the sorrow overshadowed all other feelings. But from day 1 there were so many people providing support, condolences and prayers. The day after there were people bringing us food, offers to mow the lawn, you name it, people were willing to help in some way. It was pretty incredible and in the midst of all of the sorrow, there was a spark of hope. When the wake took place, I was overwhelmed by the number of people that showed up to pay their respects. There were lots of people that I knew and yet so many that I didn’t know, lots of Kim’s friends and so many of the girl’s friends. The funeral itself was emotionally brutal, all that sorrow crashed down, but once again, so many people turned out and it was truly appreciated. Donations, both financial and spiritual, started coming in from friends, family, co-workers and complete strangers. Hope made an appearance again.

Time went on, Christmas, New Year’s Day (Kelli’s birthday), my birthday, Mother’s day, Jessica’s birthday, Father’s day, times where there should be joy and there was but the cloud of sorrow still existed. During all of this, Kim told me about this idea she had in putting together a benefit to celebrate the girl’s lives and to raise money for a scholarship fund and for the Collinsville cheerleaders. The spark of hope grew again.

On July 13th, 2008, the benefit took place. The turnout was incredible. It was indeed a celebration of two wonderful lives cut short. But as I sat there and watched and listened to people, hope started burning so much brighter. To hear the positive impact Jess and Kelli had on so many people overwhelmed me and made me realize that even though they were physically gone, their spirit lived on in everyone that was there. I had a song played in memory of the girls, “Who You’d Be Today”, by Kenny Chesney. If you listen to the words of the song, it hits really hard and you can’t help but cry. But yet, at the end of the song, he sings about hope, the one thing that gives him hope is that he will see the person again someday.

How do I define hope?

Hope is seeing all the support and good that people have done in honor of the girls. From the trees that have been planted, plaques that have been placed, to fundraisers (thanks Ruby Tuesday) and the benefit. Hope is knowing that I will indeed see my girls someday.

GOD Bless You.

Brian Uhl

Where Were You When….?

Funny how your memory works. Some things can be crystal clear, and others are a hazy cloud. Do you remember last Thanksgiving? What you wore? Who you sat by? How about dinner last night? Breakfast this morning?

One memory I’ll never lose is November 23, 2007. What started as a fabulous fun-filled day turned into the biggest nightmare of my life. And I can remember every last detail.

It was the day after Thanksgiving. My family was preparing for a family photo shoot since everyone was in town. The bathroom at my parents’ house was a hustle and bustle of curling irons, makeup, and voices. We moved furniture, met the photographer, checked ourselves one last time, and became models.

The girls buzzed in during the ruckus right when we were ready. I remembered what they wore, jokes we made, who stood by whom…everything. Our small family poses were done a little after 11:30, and the girls were ready to head home. Jessica had to work, and drop Kelli off at home on the way. Hugs and “I love you”s were shared along with the ‘Drive safely”. Who knew the last good-bye was going to mean forever.

We all got on with the day shortly afterwards. Brian was called into work, my sister-in-laws went shopping, and I went for a walk. I remember thanking God for the beautiful weather, the awesome family time, and the many blessings we had. And then about 4:00 the walls started crumbling.

My brother mentioned there was a big accident on the highway (he had been called into work also) and wondered if Brian knew. Little taps of anxiety began in my brain. Nah.. everyone left HOURS before anything happened. Surely everyone was safe. But I called Brian just in case.

Then at 5:00 the awful news came in. Brian had just heard from Kim, and he called me, weeping with such anguish in his voice, to tell me. And the world stopped. The surreal became my reality.

The rest is all seen in black and white: Telling my parents. Calling Brian’s parents in Kansas. How to tell Tony and the other kids. Hours of stunned silence and unrestrained sobbing. Waiting for it to be a bad, bad, joke. But the punch line never came.

The following 6 weeks are a blur. I remember the visitation, the funeral, and lots of tears. I don’t remember much else until after the New Year.

So, where were you when….?