Under the new clear zone program, South central Kansas has a pilot clear zone project under design. The project, in the survey stage, is on U.S. 160/U.S. 183 in Comanche County. The project covers a little over a 5-mile stretch - from the K-1/U.S. 160/U.S. 183 junction north to Fourth Street in Coldwater. The basic scope is to widen shoulders, do grading, extend culverts and replace drainage pipes. (Photo Credit: Google.com)
By Tim Potter South Central Kansas Public Affairs Manager
The Wheat State has its share of rural two-lane
highways, and KDOT has a new initiative to improve some of them. It’s called
the Clear Zone Safety Improvement Program, which KDOT created to focus on
highways that don’t have enough right of way to widen or add shoulders and
improve the clear zone.
Some might not be familiar with the term “clear zone.”
The Federal Highway Administration defines a clear zone as “an unobstructed,
traversable roadside area that allows a driver to stop safely, or regain
control of a vehicle that has left the roadway.”
KDOT’s clear zone initiative is a $10 million annual
program aimed mostly at roadways KDOT refers to as D and E routes.
According to Chris Herrick, KDOT Director of Planning
and Development, the program was created to address serious-injury and fatal
crashes on some of the state’s lower-volume highways with limited usable
shoulders or no shoulders.
“This is part of KDOT’s effort to move toward a more
systemic approach to safety,” said Herrick. “A systemic approach looks for road
characteristics that may lead to higher crash frequency and severity. This is
an example of field and headquarters personnel working together to address a
safety need.”
The first step, Herrick said, is to purchase right of
way and grade the highway to improve the shoulder width and side slopes. This
allows a motorist who leaves the highway more opportunity to recover.
The next step is to pave the improved shoulder when
KDOT does a light maintenance job, known as 1R, on the corridor.
Another key part of improving the clear zone is
extending structures or moving obstructions farther away from the travel lanes.
Herrick said the program helps address
roadway-departure crashes – one of the top contributing factors in fatal
crashes.
Projects are being sought statewide, according to
Herrick. So far, requests have been received from District Five and District
Two in north central Kansas.
“As we proceed with the program, we will be making
tweaks and communicating our project expectations to the district so they know
exactly what type of projects we are looking to do,” Herrick said.
Chilly weather is setting in and the thought of waking up to drive in a frigid vehicle before work can leave many feeling cold.
Before you turn that key, be aware of your surroundings. If you are in an enclosed place with no air circulation you could be putting yourself at risk from carbon monoxide gas exposure.
Also known as “the silent killer” carbon monoxide (or CO) is a colorless, odorless gas that can be dangerous if precautions are not taken to avoid poisoning. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), an average of 400 Americans die from unintentional CO poisoning a year. In that same time frame, more than 20,000 visit emergency rooms and 4,000 are hospitalized.
Symptoms from CO poisoning can be easily confused with the flu. The most common symptoms include: headache, dizziness, weakness, upset stomach, chest pain, confusion and vomiting.
Here are some ways you can prevent CO exposure while you are operating or inside a vehicle:
Most drivers understand that starting your car in an enclosed garage is not a good idea. But starting a car with a garage attached to your home could put you in danger as well.
Similarly, once you start your car back out immediately and close the garage door.
Be sure to have your exhaust system checked by a mechanic every year. A small leak in the system could cause CO to build up in your car.
Clear the tailpipe of any ice or snow during inclement weather. If the exhaust pipe is blocked, CO could build up in your car as well.
Keyless ignition vehicles are growing in popularity. They should always be checked to make sure they are turned off. The car could still be running, even if the keys are not inside.
Keep the doors locked, and keep children away from the keys. Never leave a child unattended where they could have access to the car and never leave them inside a car alone.
It is a busy time of year, and mistakes do happen. It is a good idea to purchase a carbon monoxide detector for you home just in case. Most injuries and deaths occur while the victims are sleeping.
For more information on how to prevent CO poisoning in your home or work check out the CDC’s safety guidelines here.
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
In
2013, Sandi Reneberg lost her son, and in 2015, Denise Miller lost her daughter
in crashes because they were not wearing seat belts. They shared their stories
in the Put the Brakes on Fatalities Day blog series in 2017 – it can be read here.
After
these losses, Sandi and her husband helped to start the SAFE program at Thunder
Ridge High School in Kensington and Denise, a high school teacher, sponsored the
program at the school. While seat belt usage for students at the school has
increased, they are continuing their efforts to help reduce traffic fatalities.
So many lives cut short - Update
By Denise Miller and Sandi Reneberg
Although the SAFE (Seatbelts Are For Everyone)
program has been active at Thunder Ridge High School (TRHS) since 2015, Sandi
and Denise both are keenly aware some students still travel without securing
their seat belts. A SAFE seat belt survey taken in February 2020 showed a
decline in those buckled up, along with an increased number of distracted
drivers. Something needed to change.
Adolescents, and many adults, need routine
reminders of what is important. In March of 2020, the SAFE program at the
high school provided just such a reminder. With the cooperation of local
emergency personnel and parents who know the pain of losing a child, TRHS held
an assembly for students. Parents were also encouraged to attend.
The program began with an eye-opening video
about the dangers of texting and driving. Officers from the Sheriff's
Department, volunteer firefighters, and EMT first responders gave accounts from
their experiences at accident scenes. Each had difficult memories of a time
when he/she had been first to the crash location. Their testimonies were
followed by emotional appeals from broken-hearted parents.
In this rural Kansas community, everyone looks
out for each other. When one member of the close-knit neighborhood is
lost, everyone is affected. Parents pleaded with students to ALWAYS buckle
up - if not for themselves, then for their family and friends, because every
day is a struggle for those left behind.
After the assembly, a senior boy approached
Denise saying, “You know, Mrs. Miller, I have never worn my seat belt. But after today, I will never be without it.”
The Thunder Ridge SAFE Program, which Denise continues
to sponsor at TRHS, hosts programs like Miss Kansas and ThinkFast Interactive
to increase teen awareness about traffic safety. Sandi’s family began a
“5th Quarter” event following Friday night games, where teens can hang out with
their friends without traveling the roadways.
Both families, along with community members,
stay focused on the task at hand - keeping our kids safe. Denise and
Sandi move forward in faith that making an impression on one student is
worth it!
Chris Fisher, center, with his brother, left, and father.
Even though it has been nearly four years since my dad’s
accident, I still remember that day, and days that follow like it was last
week. I can play it all back in my head. Every single moment.
It was February 12, 2018. 10:30 a.m. One day
after his 60th birthday.
My dad, who was a stone and brick mason had just picked up
a load of sand in Bonner Springs for a job he was doing a little farther down
the road in Johnson County. Just as he exited one highway for another,
for some reason left the road to the left, overcorrected, crossed the road to
the right and overcorrected again.
Dad rolled his one-ton dually, loaded with sand
two-and-a-half times. He was ejected on the last roll, which sent him
head-first through the driver’s side window. He went straight up in the
air and then came straight down, also head-first.
Dad wasn’t wearing a seat belt. He never did.
Out of all my memories of the accident, the one that I wish
I could forget the most happened the day after his death as we went to collect
dad’s belongings inside the mangled truck.
I was expecting wreckage far more dramatic. In my head I
was hoping to encounter some gnarly pile of twisted metal in a heap that nobody
could have survived – seat belt or not.
That was not the case.
In fact, the cab of his truck was fully intact. Yes,
it was banged up, but all but the driver’s side window was still in
place. Both doors opened with little effort.
The truck Chris' dad was driving at the time of the crash.
Dad would have walked away from that crash if only had he
been wearing a seat belt.
Ugh.
After the accident I beat myself up because I felt like I
could have done something more to motivate him to wear a seat belt. I should
have tried harder. I would tell him about all the tragic accidents we
cover at WIBW, the overwhelming data that supports how seat belts save lives,
how people would die all the time when they didn’t have to. Blah blah
blah. It all fell on def ears, God love him.
My dad had retirement in his sights. He was looking
forward to becoming a full-time farmer – his herd of cattle was growing, he
spent weekends on the property putting up fence and making improvements.
He was really working hard to set himself up to enjoy his golden years.
But that didn’t happen.
He worked six days a week for nearly 40 years only to die
while on his way to work.
Chris Fisher is the Digital Media Manager at
WIBW-TV
Sleepless nights, severe anxiety attacks,
uncontrollable crying, deep depression, high blood pressure, nightmares,
replaying the past, and daydreaming of what the future could have been are a glimpse
at living through the loss of a loved one. Birthdays, holidays, new births, weddings,
first days of school, and such are all constant reminders, she’s not here and
never will be again. Sometimes you just have to breathe through the pain. A
pain that will be there for the rest of your life.
On May 26, 2018, my beautiful daughter,
Danielle, made a decision that not only took her life, but flipped life upside
down for her entire family and so many friends. She was texting on Snapchat
while driving down the highway at 65 mph, didn’t see a semi in front of her
that slowed to make a turn, and slammed into the back of it without braking.
Thankfully she did not have her 3-year-old son with her and thankfully nobody
else was injured, physically anyway.
“I miss my mommy,” her son tells me. Me too
buddy, me too. “My mommy had an accident right here,” he says as we drive by
the dreaded oil-stained spot on the highway. She has already missed his first
day of school, several birthdays, first experience playing baseball, school programs,
and countless other events with so many yet to come. All moments Danielle would
have been glowing over. Her son was her life. Those opportunities are gone for
both Danielle and her son now because of a Snapchat that just couldn’t wait.
Now we spend our time trying to keep her memory alive for him, telling “mommy
stories,” and breathing through the pain.
I spent the remainder of 2018, all of 2019, and
the beginning of 2020 (until COVID hit) traveling around to different schools
in Kansas and Oklahoma telling our story. At my side was Shiane Wondra.
Shiane’s story is exactly the same as Danielle’s, except Shiane lived through
it. “Is it a risk you are willing to take?” - we would ask the students. I
would leave each presentation and drive home bawling the entire way, sleep for
hours afterwards, and pray we made an impact on at least one! If we can save
just one family from going through this pain, it’s worth it.
What is distracted driving? One might think,
it’s a text message. While texting and driving is one form of distraction, it’s
not the only form. Being distracted is defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary
as, “having one’s thoughts or attention drawn away.” Therefore, anything that
takes your eyes or mind off of the road is a distraction.
I cannot tell you the number of live videos, pictures
being taken, phone calls being made, or people scrambling around to find
something in their car while driving. I STILL have friends that do these
things. It’s heartbreaking. Some people just will not get it until they go
through it. It can change your entire life, or the life of another, in a matter
of seconds.
On our Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/doit4danielle/, is my original blog
and countless stories of tragedies such as ours. Help spread the word! Help
save a life! No matter what your age is, be the example. Make a commitment
today to put your phone down while driving. Meanwhile, I will continue to share
our story and breathe through the pain.
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 second story in the four-part series involving KHP death notifications.
Watch Trooper Hileman's video and read the story below.
‘Squeezing
each other’s hand so tight’
Technical Trooper Tod Hileman
Technical
Trooper Tod Hileman has done a “handful” of death notifications over the years.
“One
sticks out the most to me,” he said. In a way, it was personal for Hileman.
It
was a double-fatality crash on a highway at the edge of a town. There had been
three teenage girls in one car that crossed into the oncoming lane, hitting the
other car head-on. In the other car, the two occupants had been buckled in.
When Hileman arrived, they were standing outside their car.
It
was different at the girls’ car: The driver had been “jettisoned” through the windshield.
She was dead, lying on the pavement in front of her car, a sheet over her. A
girl in the back seat had been wearing only a lap belt, high over her stomach. She
also died. Only the front seat passenger was properly buckled in. She had
injuries, but they weren’t life-threatening.
The
last thing the survivor remembered was a cell phone going off. It appeared the
driver had reached down for the phone when she veered over the line.
Hileman
had work to do with the team of Highway Patrol investigators who collect
evidence, take measurements and diagram the scene – to reconstruct what
happened. It was hectic because traffic had to be redirected on the busy
highway. He was going through the car, looking for items that might need to be
collected as evidence. So he had to look through the girls’ personal items. All
had IDs.
Part
of the process is to make sure that victims are being correctly identified. It
involves taking the ID and matching it to the person – a body.
So
Hileman was at the point where he had to walk over to the girl covered by the
sheet, lift it. She was on her back. He lowered the ID close to her face and
quickly confirmed a match.
He
was still over her body, he recalled. “And it just dawned on me …. All these
thoughts and emotions were going through my head.”
She
was the same age as his daughter, and like his daughter, she was tall, “very
pretty,” same hair color, same eye color.
“I
just kind of had a flash that it was my daughter lying there.”
And then he paused in retelling it -- paused
maybe five seconds.
“So
that really hit me,” he said, finishing.
Later,
“being a dad,” he reacted to the crash by beseeching his daughter: “Please.
Please,” he told her. “Pay attention. This is horrible.”
That
day at the crash scene, after the bodies had been removed and car towed away,
he was notified that the driver’s parents were waiting on the other side of
town, at the father’s workplace. On his way, he thought to himself: “This is
the worst part of our job.”
He
explained: “It’s very emotional, and I’m a soft-hearted person anyway.”
He
pulled up to the father’s business in his official car and uniform and saw her
parents, standing, surrounded by people he assumed were relatives.
“Looking
at them, already I had this covering of dread all over me, especially with a
young person that’s just starting life ….
“So
dad was standing on my right, mom’s on my left. Dad has his arm around mom’s
shoulders.” The father was taller, so “she’s got her arm around his waist,” he
recalled.
“And
they were grasping hands in the middle, between them. … What caught my
attention was they were squeezing each other’s hand so tight … I just got the
sense, like if they could squeeze each other’s hand tight enough,” that he
would “tell something else,” he recalled.
“Their
knuckles were white.”
After
he had parked his car, “all eyes were on me.” As he was trained to do when
getting out of his car, he grabbed his trooper hat. But that time, he threw it
back into the car, walked up to them and “told them the words they never ever
wanted to hear in their life.”
The
parents sobbed. He doesn’t remember what they said, because in that moment he
was emotional too.
“You try to save kids’ lives,” Hileman said.
“I have to relive this over and over again. And maybe I can reach someone with
that story.”
Still,
he said, it’s so emotionally taxing for him, he doesn’t tell the story often.