Part of a Kansas Highway Patrol trooper’s job
is notifying next of kin when a person dies in a car crash. One trooper
remembers a mother collapse in a doorway. Another caught a mother crumpling to
the floor. This is the final story in the four-part series involving KHP death notifications.
Watch Trooper Wright's video and read the story below.
‘They
know why you’re there’
Technical Trooper Nick Wright
Technical
Trooper Nick Wright recalls a crash where a 17-year-old had been killed because a
16-year-old crossed into his lane and struck him head-on just before he was to
exit. She was allegedly speeding and texting.
It
was Wright’s first death notification in which he was the lead investigator.
What Wright remembers most is the follow-up investigation a day or two later at
a home where some of the 17-year-old’s family had gathered. Maybe 15 people
joined around a dining room table – all of their eyes on him. He remembers the
father saying he couldn’t sleep. The father was obsessed about how the girl
came to be where she was when she lost control. Wright recalls them being a
loving, forgiving family.
Now,
every time Wright drives past the cross put up near where the two cars collided
– it’s a neatly weeded roadside memorial, “I think about it,” he said.
In
another crash, a young man had become intoxicated and was found in his wrecked
SUV at the bottom of a steep embankment. After he died, Wright and his patrol
partner pulled up outside the mother’s home. She was standing at the screen
door. When she saw the troopers, she collapsed to her knees. “They know why
you’re there,” he said of those moments.
He
introduces himself the same way every time: “Hey, I’m Trooper Wright. Can I
come inside?”
With
the grieving mother, he remembers getting her tissue from the kitchen and maybe
a glass of water. Still, years later, he can see her home. “I could almost draw
the inside of her house.”
He
was relieved when a chaplain showed up to help comfort her. He explains that
when giving death notifications, he and another trooper go in as a pair. “We
kind of pick who’s saying the words before we go there.” He’s been with the KHP
for 16 years now. So he feels like he should offer to say “the words” to the
loved ones if he’s with a less experienced trooper. It’s part of his
personality, he said. He’s a greeter at church. “I’m kind of a people person.”
About
“the words”: “You cut straight to the chase,” he said. If he’s notifying a
young woman that her father has died in a crash, for example, he’ll say it as
clearly and clinically as possible: “I’m really sorry to tell you, but your
dad’s been killed in a crash.”
The
reactions vary. Some loved ones pass out, some fall, some sob, some deny it,
some get angry. Anything can happen.
“You learn to talk to people,” he said. “You
are greatly affecting these people’s lives.”
He
remembers hugging a family before he left. Most people in law enforcement, he
noted, don’t hug on the job. Still, he said, “You can’t be robotic. You just
have to be a person to them. You are delivering the worst news to this person.
There’s no good way you can do it. … I remember choking back tears.”
Five
years ago, I wrote an article about my personal experience with roadway safety
after others heard my story about surviving a car-bicycle crash I was involved
in. That story detailed what had occurred on a late evening ride in May
2014 when my wife and I were struck from behind by an inattentive
motorist. Fortunately, we both survived that incident, although there were
lingering effects from our injuries for some time after that unfortunate event
(read 2016 story here).
Now
I’m sharing an update to my current status as an avid cyclist, what experiences
I have had and what changes I may have made since this accident.
I
suppose as a natural progression of my cycling activities, I have become
involved with other types of events, as well as becoming more involved with
group rides. Many may be aware that the gravel riding scene has grown
rapidly, and I too have become more active in these types of rides. Of
course, there is typically much less traffic on gravel roads than on paved
roadways, so naturally less chance for conflicts with motorized
traffic. The lower speeds vehicles travel on unpaved roads also gives more
time for both drivers and cyclists to react to each other’s presence.
I
have also discovered a great group of fellow cyclists to ride with on shorter
evening rides and longer weekend events. Travelling in a larger group
makes all of us more visible than we would be on solo rides, and vehicular
traffic seems to be more conscious of passing our larger groups more
cautiously.
There
are also more options these days for locations to ride that are not on major
roadways. The City of Wichita and the surrounding areas have a pretty decent
network of both paved and unpaved riding trails that cyclists can utilize where
we do not have to be as cognizant of other road users.
I
still do some paved road cycling where I am riding in the same type of environment
where I had my accident seven years ago, but I make every effort to be aware of
vehicles on the same roads I am on. I have used a rear-view mirror that is
attached to my helmet for many years so I can see what is approaching from
behind. I also choose not to have any audio devices playing while I ride so I
am more aware of the sounds of others on the roadway.
So,
in conclusion, I did not let the accident I was involved with take away what
has become my favorite pastime, and of course I was very blessed that my
injuries did not create permanent debilitating physical issues. Cycling
will always be part of my lifestyle as long as I am physically able to ride,
and the lessons I have learned while riding have made me more safety conscious
so I can continue these activities.
Motorists
and cyclists both have to share the same roadways to get to our destinations,
and we all need to be aware of others on our journeys and show the same level
of respect we want for ourselves.
In July 2017, my husband, Marvin, was taking our three-year-old
grandson, Macen, to daycare for the afternoon. It was a rainy day, around noon,
on a Topeka city street when a ¾-ton pickup truck lost control on a curve and
slammed into my husband’s car.
Our grandson was in his car seat on the opposite side of
the car where the majority of the impact occurred. Even though my husband had
severe injuries, our grandson remained safely in the car seat with minor cuts
from the seat belt and from glass.
They transported him in the ambulance with my husband.
Emergency personnel took our grandson in the fully intact car seat in the
ambulance to the local hospital.He was
checked out and released that same day.
I firmly believe the car seat saved Macen from more severe
injuries. My husband was also able to focus on talking to Macen in the car
until others were there to help get them out.
Properly installed and used car seats for children save
lives. I truly believe this. Macen is proof of that and thriving as a seven-year-old
boy now.
Casey Simoneau (third from right), with his family
It was an unexpected call when asked to do a follow-up to
the blog that I wrote nine years ago. Many lives have been changed since that
time, including my own. I no longer work for the Kansas Highway Patrol, but I am
running my own business and serving as Mayor of Baldwin City. However, past
experiences always stay and impact your future decisions, and my work for the
Kansas Highway Patrol is no exception to the rule.
As my life may have taken on a new direction, the memories
from my time in law enforcement still impact me even more now than before. When
I wrote the previous story, I had one child. But now I have three children and one
on the way. I still find myself driving the same highways I once patrolled and
continue to be reminded of the fatalities I had worked in those specific areas.
I use those moments to explain to my children the importance of good
decisions.
Each person has decisions to make, and sometime those
decisions have a positive or negative impact on another person in our
communities. Unfortunately, often times the decision to drive while impaired,
with alcohol or drugs, have a more immediate impact on families, friends and
communities. Those decisions lead to memories and pain that is never
forgotten.
I still drive K-10 and see the cable barriers that were
installed after a traffic accident that I worked involving young children. I
often tell the story of a sibling of the deceased child. I remember her sitting
on my lap on the days following the accident and giving her a Trooper Bear.
Those memories do not leave me.
A community came together and mourned the loss of the child
and rallied around the family to create change so that it did not happen to
another family. Cable barriers were installed shortly after to help lessen the
opportunity of that type of event occurring again.TOGETHER this community helped to save lives.
This is the most profound memory of all the fatalities that
I worked. I often find myself thinking about what could have been. The sister
would be nearing her teenage years now and all she has is a distant memory of
her brother. She will never have the same experiences as others. She will not
remember fighting with her brother, celebrating with her brother or snuggling
her brother. A community lost the opportunity to see a child grow. All these
lives changed over a person’s bad decision. Often poor decisions can be made
right, but this one can never be undone.
Please think before you drive as you do not know the
negative impacts of your decision to your family, friends and community. It may
be a decision that cannot be made right and can leave many lives changed
forever.
On May 5, 2019, Randall left the house early to go to work
and he never made it home. Randall was a husband, stay-at-home dad, runner,
builder, and friend to all. When he kissed me, said goodbye, and walked out of
the house that morning, he was in the prime of his life. At 33 years old, he
had a beautiful two-year-old daughter who adored him and a spunky almost one-year-old
son who had barely had a chance to do the fun father/son activities that every
dad looks forward to. Randall and I were excitedly preparing to find out the
gender of our third and final baby, renovating our home, and accomplishing the
goals we had been dreaming of during our nine years of marriage.
Randall worked that morning at the Tri-Zou triathlon event
in Columbia, Missouri. He had set up the racecourse, worked on the race staff
throughout the event, and was picking up cones after it was finished. He worked
for the race company, UltraMax, for a few years and their team always worked
with care to make their racecourses safe for both the runners and the staff.
They were professionals in their field. But no amount of safety precautions can
protect you from the reckless choices of others.
In an intersection marked with race cones, an unlicensed,
uninsured driver was going 10 miles per hour over the speed limit while on a
video call, before she looked up to see the police escort that was blocking
traffic behind Randall and his team. To avoid crashing into the police car, she
swerved around it, never even noticing the cones or the workers who were in
front of it.
When she hit Randall, throwing him 100 feet through the
air, he broke his pelvis and ribs, and suffered a severe trauma to his head.
Randall spent the next seven months in multiple hospitals, ICU’s, and rehab
facilities and passed away on November 18, just two weeks after his 34th
birthday. He missed his son’s first birthday, the birth of his third daughter,
and countless other events he had been looking forward to.
The news articles all call it a tragic accident, but this
was no accident. Accidents happen regardless of careful planning and attention.
The unnecessary and senseless wreck that took his life was the direct result of
choice. The woman who hit him chose to break multiple laws that day. She chose
to get behind the wheel of a car despite knowing it was not lawful to do so.
She chose to be reckless in her haste to get where she was going. She chose to
prioritize her phone conversation over the safety of herself and others.
Those choices were intentional and not by accident, making
Randall’s death a choice someone made as well. The choices made behind the
wheel of a car may seem insignificant at the time, but every moment and every
choice have the potential to change lives forever. Randall, our children,
myself and even the driver who will spend her next five years in prison, all
suffered life altering consequences that day because of distracted and
irresponsible driving.
CLICK HERE for a video narrated by Adrienne and Sgt. Andrew Perkins about the crash.
Part of a Kansas Highway Patrol trooper’s job
is notifying next of kin when a person dies in a car crash. One trooper
remembers a mother collapse in a doorway. Another caught a mother crumpling to
the floor. This is the third story in the four-part series involving KHP death notifications.
Watch Trooper Dryden's video and read the story below.
‘Don’t
beat around the bush’
Master Trooper Joel Dryden
Master
Trooper Joel Dryden reminds himself that a death notification is prompted by an event
so sudden, it’s not as if the loved ones can prepare for it. Families have so
many questions about how and why it happened. They might keep asking the same
question. “They’re still trying to make sense out of it. You don’t always get
answers, and that’s also hard to deal with,” he said.
After
about 17 years with the Highway Patrol, death notifications remain the hardest
part of the job, Dryden said. He patrols Harvey County.
With
experience, he decided he needs help dealing with a family. Chaplains are a big
help; they assist by bringing in relatives and others who can help.
The
academy instructs troopers, “Don’t beat around the bush,” he said. “There’s no
way to say it that it’s not going to hurt,” he said. He uses words that are
clear and to the point: like “killed” or “died,” not long phrases that delay
the news.
He
has a strategy when he goes to a family’s home: Coax them into the house, get
them to sit down. But sometimes they don’t want to sit. “It’s like they know –
‘As soon as I go and sit on the couch, this is real,’ so there are some who
really resist hearing the news.”
Once,
he was getting ready tell a mother that her young adult son had died. She
wouldn’t sit down, was “kind of forcing me to say it.” And as she stood there,
“Just immediately her body went limp,” and all he could do was try to brace her
as she sank to the floor. They just sat there.
“You
end up putting yourself in their shoes,” he said.
September 6, 1995, started out like every other morning. My
husband, Master Trooper Dean Goodheart, left home for his job with the Kansas
Highway Patrol. Dean was headed east on I-70 around 6:30 that morning when he
observed a semi and proceeded to stop it for an inspection.
He stopped behind the semi, turned on his emergency lights
and began to perform the roadside safety inspection. As he stepped down from
the driver's door of the semi cab, a westbound car driven by a young college
student struck him. Dean's injuries were immediately fatal, and my life and our
family were changed forever.
Dean was just 49 years old at the time of his death and had
served the citizens of Kansas for 23 years. He knew the dangers he faced in
this profession, but he loved to help people. The driver had been driving all
night to return to college. It is a known fact that sleepy and distracted
drivers are as dangerous as drunk drivers.
This crash could have been prevented had the driver just
slowed down and moved to the far lane and away from the emergency lights. The
"Move Over'' Law had not been in force at that time. That lead the Kansas
State Troopers Association to begin a crusade to bring the Move Over Law to
Kansas. They reached out to me to advocate for the Move Over Law and hoping no
one else would have to endure the same pain we did, I did advocate for the Move
Over Law.
In 2000, House Bill 2641 was signed into law requiring
drivers to “Slow Down and Move Over” near stopped emergency vehicles. This bill
is known by many as the “Goodheart Law” and has reduced the number of emergency
vehicles and officers being struck. Goodheart's Law was amended during the 2006
Legislative Session to incorporate roadside crews, such as the Patrol's
Motorist Assistance Technicians and the Kansas Department of Transportation's
highway road crews. The amendment requires traffic on four-lane highways to
move away from vehicles engaged in highway construction or maintenance
operations when those vehicles display amber flashing lights.
Since this law went into effect, it has saved countless
lives and prevented injury and property damage. I believe Dean continues to
protect the citizens, visitors, first responders, and his fellow colleagues due
to this law.
Because of this tragedy, I became active with National
Concerns of Police Survivors (C.O.P.S.). In March 2001, some of our Kansas
survivors and myself were instrumental in starting a Kansas chapter to be there
for other survivors. Kansas Concerns of Police Survivors supports families of
officers killed in the line of duty.
Thanks to the hard work and dedication by Colonel Mark
Bruce and his staff, Governor Jeff Colyer signed SB 375 into law on May 8,
2018, which designates memorial highways across Kansas in honor of the
sacrifice our fallen officers have made. SB 375 was unanimously passed by both
the House and Senate before its adoption. My husband Dean’s marker is located
on Highway 83 north of Oakley and continues to Highway 24 west of Colby.
It's been 26 years since we lost Dean. This one moment in
time caused my family's life to change forever. I lost my husband and best
friend of 15 years. My children and grandchildren lost a great father,
grandfather and mentor. Only three of my grandchildren were born before he was
killed. He is missed by family, friends and co-workers at all functions in our
life such as graduations, weddings, holidays and school activities.
There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of Dean.
As you pass these highway markers, please remember to give all first responders
and road crews room to work so they may go home to their families.
Marilyn
Goodheart
KS
C.O.P.S. Treasurer
Kansas Concerns of Police Survivors
