Thursday, January 1, 2015
It's a beautiful day
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Five years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
Today begins a new year, new chapter in this journey I call life in recovery.
I had a wonderful New Year's holiday, spent low-key at home with the love of my life, the person who knows me inside and out and loves me unconditionally.
I didn't have any negative thoughts today, and for me that's growth. That's progress.
Recovery makes me want to be a better person, closer to God and better able to help my fellow man.
To me, that's a beautiful thing.
...
I lay here tonight , and I'm wondering about Trisha, a woman I've done time with three Christmases in a row.
I hope she's OK. I hope she hasn't lost faith. I hope she got into the treatment pod.
...
Jail is a miserable place to be.
I hate it there.
I don't get my medications correctly. I'm ill most of the time I'm there and starving to death.
I was so sick the first day I couldn't get out of bed.
I kept holding my hand on the cold concrete-block wall, and placing it on my forehead for relief.
It took four days to get the first dose of my medication, and I didn't receive my other one until halfway through day five of seven.
...
I was so relieved to be released the day after Christmas.
I went home to my boyfriend and my family.
I left Trisha behind in that depressing place, promising to write.
As I struggled to reintegrate into society, I suffered too, thinking about my victim's family and what they must go through every Christmas.
I hate it that they demonized me so much, as well, because I've done everything I can to atone for my tragic choices.
...
I've spoken to thousand of people, mostly teenagers, about what it's like to kill someone in a blackout and live to tell the tale sober.
It takes humility, a lot of honesty and some really thick skin to admit that a man died because of my alcoholism and drug addiction.
I do it because I'm trying to help.
I don't want anyone else to suffer the way I did because of my actions; the way my parents did having to watch their daughter literally go to hell and back; the way my kids still do without a mom in their daily lives.
I do it because it's the only thing I can do to try to right the terrible wrongs I've done to everyone involved.
And, I do it to show people God still loves me, and as long as you're above ground, there's hope for a brighter tomorrow.
...
I hope someday my victim's family can see the good that has come out of this tragedy.
I hope they will be proud of the message, even if they never forgive me.
I pray that if any of them ever find themselves fighting the demons I fought, that they'll seek help.
My heart goes out to them, and to all the families who suffer because of this disease.
God bless you.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Thanksgiving blessings
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Five years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying
to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year
for the next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together
in between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
...
Some five years after the accident, blessings surround me.
I am so grateful for my life, in recovery, for the love I am consistently shown, for
becoming a person who can hold her head high and who can be proud again.
I have worked so hard to right the wrongs, to forgive myself, to educate others.
...
A court hearing this summer nearly broke my spirit. I had asked to have
my jail time suspended, for unsupervised probation and to get my license
reinstated. The judge granted the latter; and it was clear to me that in some
people's eyes I would always be a drunk in a blackout, who ran a man down
and kept going.
The truth is that I did that terrible thing, but I haven't been that woman in a long,
long time. I have stood before countless groups of high schoolers, would-be
alcohol and drug counselors and even mothers who lost their children because
of drugs and alcohol.
I have owned this tragedy from the get-go and consistently for years. Although
some may never forgive me, I will not let that break me. I will not stop trying to
be a better person, and in so doing, become better able to help another alcoholic
and my fellow man.
...
Today, I sponsor women, to teach them how the steps and more importantly
having a relationship with a higher power can help you stay sober, one day at
a time.
On the anniversary of the accident this year, I shared my story with incarcerated
women in Sumner County. Many identified. Some came up and thanked me for
inspiring them to start over, to learn from their mistakes and not to let their pasts
define them.
I nearly always share in meetings, to encourage people in recovery, to provide
support and hope. I have a sponsor, and I stay in touch. I feel grateful to be
someone who is considered one of the people who walk the walk in recovery.
...
I have always felt love and acceptance in recovery. No one made me feel
like I was different, or that I was beyond help because I had a drunk driving
accident that killed someone.
My sponsor, sponsees, role models in recovery and friends have helped me
and loved me just like a family would.
In fact, it was in a meeting where I found the love of my life.
...
I met him one evening at a clubhouse. He listened as I shared. I paid attention
when he shared too; and was instantly attracted to everything about him.
We kept seeing each other at the same meetings.
At one in particular, we sat directly across from one another, for weeks and then
months.
Under a flickering, fluorescent light, I fell in love with the beautiful boy across
the table.
...
It took a few months for us to get together .
First, it was because he was dating other people. And then one day, he was gone.
I tried to move on, to get over the connection and attraction. Nearly three months
passed, before I began dating someone else briefly.
...
When he came back into my life, it was so clear to me it, whatever
it was, was still there.
When he made amends, my heart opened back up to him. Within days,
we were together for real and in love.
More than seven months have passed, and we're still together. I've
never been happier, more in love and at peace.
...
In 2012, I broke up with my boyfriend of 12 years. Two months later,
he died. I thought I'd never be happy again.
Still, I trudged on, and stayed sober.
Nearly two years later, my angel kissed me for the first time. He is
an amazing, role model in recovery and the best man I've ever been
privileged enough to love.
...
It's a good life. I can sleep tonight knowing I do my best; I am sober;
and my Mike loves me.
And for that, I am truly thankful.
...
katrina at 8:08 PM
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katrina
I am an award-winning writer with a new mission: to educate people about the consequences of drinking an driving.
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That's exactly what happened to me.
Five years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying
to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year
for the next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together
in between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
...
Some five years after the accident, blessings surround me.
I am so grateful for my life, in recovery, for the love I am consistently shown, for
becoming a person who can hold her head high and who can be proud again.
I have worked so hard to right the wrongs, to forgive myself, to educate others.
...
A court hearing this summer nearly broke my spirit. I had asked to have
my jail time suspended, for unsupervised probation and to get my license
reinstated. The judge granted the latter; and it was clear to me that in some
people's eyes I would always be a drunk in a blackout, who ran a man down
and kept going.
The truth is that I did that terrible thing, but I haven't been that woman in a long,
long time. I have stood before countless groups of high schoolers, would-be
alcohol and drug counselors and even mothers who lost their children because
of drugs and alcohol.
I have owned this tragedy from the get-go and consistently for years. Although
some may never forgive me, I will not let that break me. I will not stop trying to
be a better person, and in so doing, become better able to help another alcoholic
and my fellow man.
...
Today, I sponsor women, to teach them how the steps and more importantly
having a relationship with a higher power can help you stay sober, one day at
a time.
On the anniversary of the accident this year, I shared my story with incarcerated
women in Sumner County. Many identified. Some came up and thanked me for
inspiring them to start over, to learn from their mistakes and not to let their pasts
define them.
I nearly always share in meetings, to encourage people in recovery, to provide
support and hope. I have a sponsor, and I stay in touch. I feel grateful to be
someone who is considered one of the people who walk the walk in recovery.
...
I have always felt love and acceptance in recovery. No one made me feel
like I was different, or that I was beyond help because I had a drunk driving
accident that killed someone.
My sponsor, sponsees, role models in recovery and friends have helped me
and loved me just like a family would.
In fact, it was in a meeting where I found the love of my life.
...
I met him one evening at a clubhouse. He listened as I shared. I paid attention
when he shared too; and was instantly attracted to everything about him.
We kept seeing each other at the same meetings.
At one in particular, we sat directly across from one another, for weeks and then
months.
Under a flickering, fluorescent light, I fell in love with the beautiful boy across
the table.
...
It took a few months for us to get together .
First, it was because he was dating other people. And then one day, he was gone.
I tried to move on, to get over the connection and attraction. Nearly three months
passed, before I began dating someone else briefly.
...
When he came back into my life, it was so clear to me it, whatever
it was, was still there.
When he made amends, my heart opened back up to him. Within days,
we were together for real and in love.
More than seven months have passed, and we're still together. I've
never been happier, more in love and at peace.
...
In 2012, I broke up with my boyfriend of 12 years. Two months later,
he died. I thought I'd never be happy again.
Still, I trudged on, and stayed sober.
Nearly two years later, my angel kissed me for the first time. He is
an amazing, role model in recovery and the best man I've ever been
privileged enough to love.
...
It's a good life. I can sleep tonight knowing I do my best; I am sober;
and my Mike loves me.
And for that, I am truly thankful.
...
katrina at 8:08 PM
Share
No comments:
Post a Comment
›
Home
View web version
About Me
katrina
I am an award-winning writer with a new mission: to educate people about the consequences of drinking an driving.
View my complete profile
Powered by Blogger
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Grief and emotions in recovery
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Three years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
My grandmother, Clara Marie Cornwell, died early yesterday.
She was the graceful, soft-spoken matriarch of the family, the glue that held us all together, anything you could ever ask for in a grandparent.
I am reeling from this devastating loss.
Through the hills and valleys of grief, I walk sober through the pain.
I want it to end. I don't want to feel. I never wanted this day to come; it's like someone reached inside me and ripped out my inner child to leave a wandering, bleeding mess of an adult who doesn't know how to live in a world without the one person who always, always loved her unconditionally.
And on top of that someone else stood over my wounds today with a can of Morton's salt, seasoning my misery.
...
I had to set a boundary today with someone I love, someone who wanted it done her way, someone who added insult to injury, someone who hurt me in a time of grief and pain.
It was not easy. It was not fun.
Somehow I know things between us are never going to be the same. That hurts too.
As I ponder the day's events, I know I can still rest knowing I did nothing to stomp on anyone's feelings today.
I didn't lash out in my grief or retaliate when verbally accosted.
Today, I know resentments can kill me. They can make me drink or take drugs, and nothing in this world is worth a drink or a drug.
...
My heart is still breaking over grandma's death. She is dead; and I haven't even buried her yet.
Somehow, I got tangled up in something far less important today.
So, from here on out, I've decided that nothing negative, no person, place or thing is going to rob me of my proper time to grieve.
...
My grandma was a saint.
She helped me emotionally, giving me refuge as a child who was verbally abused.
She built my self esteem and showed me what it was to love someone without bounds.
She was always there on my birthday.
She put my daughter through preschool.
She helped me countless times financially.
She was a constant source of light and hope in my life and always told me how proud she was of me.
And for these next days, until she's laid to rest, she will have my undivided attention.
She will always have my love.
...
Sunday, March 3, 2013
If you hang around the barbershop...
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Three years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
I have this inner dialog debate going on lately concerning whether or not it is safe for me some three years after I got sober to dip my toes into the waters of temptation involving alcohol and drugs.
Let me first say that I am strong in my sobriety. I do not miss drinking, and ninety-nine percent of the time, I don't even think about smoking weed.
It's that one percent that has me guarded and shut-in from the evils of the world most of the time.
Since the accident, I have purposely avoided situations where I might be tempted to drink or use.
That has kind of limited my options insofar as going out is concerned, at least that's how I see it.
I used to enjoy the nightlife, but there are things about it that scare me now.
I can't control what other people do. I can't control whether someone in a concert venue lights up a joint, triggering my addiction. I can't make someone who is not in recovery understand that if we go out and you are my ride, you cannot drink. You have to have a designated driver or a cab because that's just how I roll.
...
This inner conflict began when I thought about some of the recovery tools I have learned and how some of them don't seem to coincide.
Those of us who are trying to get clean and sober and stay that way are told early on that we have to change our playmates and playgrounds.
I have also heard old-timers sometimes say, "If you hang around the barbershop long enough, you're going to get a haircut."
Both of those statements would seem to suggest it's not OK to go to hang around people who drink or use drugs, and if you do so often enough, you're going to relapse.
Here's where it gets confusing.
The literature in my recovery program, written in the 1930s, also says you can go anywhere and do anything you want after you get sober - even places where liquor is served - as long as you stay in fit spiritual condition.
So, I find myself trying to figure out which recovery credo I should follow.
It seem there is no clear-cut answer.
...
Judge Mark Fishburn took care of a part of the problem when he banned me from going to bars as a part of the plea deal I took in June 2011.
However, I am finding there are lots of other gray areas that aren't covered by the court order, so I occasionally find myself having to make a decision.
For instance, I am allowed to go to restaurants where alcohol is served.
And of course, there are sometimes gatherings at homes and private venues with family members or friends who are not in recovery. I can't tell these well-meaning folks not to have a drink or puff away on their drug of choice.
My program suggests I should talk to my sponsor whenever I have any question or issue.
There are also questions I can ask myself about the purpose of the event I am considering attending.
-- Am I strong enough spiritually speaking?
-- Is the temptation worth the risk?
-- Is there a justifiable reason for my attendance?
-- Or am I simply romanticizing a lifestyle I once lived?
...
There was a situation last fall in which my 20-year, high-school reunion was being held in a bar on Second Avenue in Nashville.
Just my luck, right?
Not wanting to take the chance of violating my probation, I took the high road and spoke with my probation officer, who communicated with the judge and let me know that he gave me permission to attend.
He told the probation officer to tell me, "Just don't drink."
I said, "OK."
I didn't drink that night, but it was a bit weird to say the least to see my former classmates boozing it up just like I used to do in my favorite East Nashville haunts.
After a couple hours of walking around seeing them clinking glasses, asking for refills and then spotting a lonely bottle of Chambord on the bar - my favorite liqueur - I slipped off to the bathroom to call a cab.
I had to get out of there. I found myself just not being able to relate to it anymore.
...
My life is so different now. I'm just in a different place.
It's not as if I am looking down at so-called normal drinkers or folks that just haven't admitted a drinking or using problem yet from some sort of high moral pedestal.
I remember well the days when I joined in the camaraderie of the bar scene, raising a glass to toast the latest gathering of the same eight to 10 people week after week, month after month, year after year.
I thought these nights of liquor-filled fun were more about friendship than a buzz.
That's how it started anyway. It seemed like innocent fun.
Gradually, things began to get wilder and wilder with sex, drugs and rock-n-roll front and center, not only in my life, but in the lives of pretty much everyone around me.
I had briefly broken up with my longtime boyfriend, and that's when things started to spin a little out of control.
Three months passed, and I ran into him at a local business. Soon afterward, I contacted him and we had dinner, but things were complicated.
Let's just say he had moved on, too.
Somehow, we found our way back to each other, and I spent the next six months trying to mend fences.
I stayed away from the bars. I stayed away from my "friends."
...
One fateful night after six months of abstinence from alcohol, I decided I wanted to go out for "one more night" with them.
One more night cost me everything, and cost a man his life.
That's why I can't be nonchalant about where I go and what I do.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that those "friends" I went out to meet that night after a six-month, dry-drunk scattered like an atomic bomb fell into my lap when I was charged.
Only one stayed in contact, albeit infrequently. We have recently reconnected.
I don't harbor ill will toward anyone. It is what it is. They moved on, and so did I, along a different road.
I'm hoping they will look at my life as somewhat of an example, whether they continue to drink the way we used to, whether they think they have a problem at all.
Maybe one day, one or more of them will ask me about sobriety, will want it for themselves.
When and if they do, I am ready, willing and able to help.
I am willing to take them to a meeting or to church, to introduce them to my way of life, to remind them how good life can be without all that poison clouding a beautiful mind and a soul God created uniquely.
...
My sobriety and my relationship with Jesus Christ are the most important things in my life today.
So, I have to be thoughtful as I consider opportunities to venture out into the world again.
I cannot afford to mess up now.
It has taken me more than three years to have some semblance of normalcy in my life.
I have a job. I get to see my children, and I have quality of life. I am on a waiting list for an apartment, the first situation in which I will be independent again.
I no longer need a drug-induced haze to enjoy a beautiful day, to face seemingly insurmountable obstacles or to escape emotional pain.
For that, I am grateful.
...
I wish I knew how to resolve my dilemma.
It's tough wanting to be a part of the world around you, but not trusting people and situations enough to really venture out beyond four familiar walls.
Sure, I've gone to functions at recovery clubhouses, most recently a karaoke event that I shut down with some of my friends in the wee hours of the morning.
I sang at least a dozen songs including those from artists including Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, En Vogue and Heart.
Those events don't happen often enough. I want more out of life.
I find myself going to work, going to meetings, going to church and going to sleep. The next day I wake up and do it all over again.
Yes, I'm staying sober, and that's the most important thing.
But I know I can do this better, meaning I know I can have a better quality life and not have to worry about being tempted to take a drink or light up a joint.
But how? That's the question.
I 'won't stop 'til I get enough.'
Stay tuned.
...
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
A living amends
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Three years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
Eddy McCreery is on my mind everyday.
I think about him as I go about my daily life, working, going to recovery meetings, in my interactions with family and friends, and especially when I speak to groups about the accident.
I have been doing that a lot lately. I guess that's what I felt compelled to write again.
Today, I spoke to a support group for women whose children were taken by the Department of Children's Services because of mother's drug use.
On Feb. 10, I was at a local church speaking to about 50 youth and six adult workers.
The audience changes, but the message is always the same: this is what can happen to you if you drink and drive.
I tell them how I had everything in the world going for me.
I was married while I was going to college, and then divorced and became a single mother, who was holding down a job as a reporter first in Dickson and then in Gallatin.
My second year out of the gate as a professional journalist, I won second place in the Tennessee Press Association Contest for best news reporting for a series of stories I wrote about groundwater contamination, stemming from the illegal dumping of toxic chemicals in the Dickson County Landfill.
In Gallatin, I won two first-place awards at the TPA contest, one in 2007 for best news reporting, and one in 2009 for best single feature.
I had three wonderful children, a daughter and two sons, who lived with me two weeks out of every month and with their dad the same amount of time in a joint-custody arrangement.
Perry Baggs, my longtime boyfriend who died in July, was an accomplished musician, a founding member of Jason and The Scorchers, the pioneers of alternative country music, and more specifically, a music genre some call country punk or cowpunk.
The Americana Music Association awarded JATS a lifetime achievement award in best performance in 2008, the band has a display at the Country Music Hall of Fame, and more than three decades of critical acclaim from around the world.
I was living a dream life.
...
But somewhere down deep, I was unhappy and it manifested in self-destructive ways.
I smoked marijuana daily for 18 years. I had started drinking at the age of 15, and although alcohol wasn't my drug of choice, it was the one that ultimately took all my choices away.
I was on prescription Xanax, and I only abused it one time, the night I had the accident which ended Eddy McCreery's life.
My decision to mix Xanax and alcohol cost a man his life, and a family a husband, father, brother and uncle.
That's something I can never truly make right, but I am trying, in my own way, to do what I can to make what my program of recovery refers to as a living amends to the McCreery family.
This entails living a sober life, a life that is accountable to a sponsor and to others in recovery and ultimately to my higher power, who I call God.
It involves humbling myself every time I tell my story to a different group, every time I play the WSMV footage of my arrest and three subsequent stories and the audio of the 911 call that came in shortly after the accident occurred.
I have seen and heard those recordings countless times now, but it still feels like someone is stabbing me in the heart every time I realize the pain I caused the McCreery family and my own family, a wound that will never truly heal.
...
I liken what I did to a tornado that tore two families apart. The McCreerys lost someone they loved forever, or until they meet him in heaven, if you believe as I do.
Mine suffered as three families were forced to live under one roof, and shove two extra households of furniture in two barn buildings, an attic and a basement.
My children had to move to White House and be separated from their mother for the majority of the last three years. I have only been able to see them every other weekend during that time. I have very few pictures. I can't be in their lives daily to be a parent. It's impossible to be a momma over the phone, but I do my best.
I try to cherish the time I do have with them and not dwell on their absence, but on some nights the separation anxiety I feel, coupled with the sometimes debilitating grief I experience over Perry's death, makes it nearly impossible to be positive.
Then, there's the jail time.
I know many will say 'it could be a lot worse.'
Yes. I know that.
But it doesn't make the time I spend there any easier, or make it go by any faster.
Every day you spend in lockup feels like a week. Weeks feel like months, and months feel like years.
The state also revoked my driver's license, and I although I have a job, I am extremely underemployed.
I am not trying to elicit sympathy. I simply want the reader to know my consequences extend way beyond 10 years of probation and two weeks of incarceration a year.
The time I have lost with my children alone is severe punishment for my crimes. It's not their fault, but they are suffering because of my actions.
These consequences will not end today or tomorrow. Some will last 8 more years. Some will last a lifetime.
...
Although, I can easily get down thinking about the ramifications of my actions, I can just as easily feel inspired about the work I am doing to spread the message in and around the Nashville area.
That's what gets me through the hard times.
I am court-ordered to speak twice a year, on Mr. McCreery's birthday, Feb. 10, and on the anniversary of the accident, Oct. 22, but I do it as often as possible.
I believe that God can work through me to make a difference.
So, when I think about the mission, if you will, nothing else matters.
I am inspired when I hear mothers come to me and tell me how their teenage sons kicked a drug habit after hearing my speech.
I know I must be doing something right.
God is working through me to make all of this possible.
Without his blessing, without the Holy Spirit leading, guiding and directing my words and my path, there can be no stories like that one to be told.
...
I recently read the book of Jonah in the Bible.
He was the one who ran from the Lord, and ended up being thrown into the sea and swallowed into the belly of a big fish for his disobedience.
I could relate to the rebellion, and the ultimate humility that took place in that man of God's heart.
For it is only through our humility and our willingness to turn our will and lives over to a higher power that we will be happy, joyous and free. Self sacrifice and service to others also play a vital role in that transformation.
I don't make this stuff up. I have lived it.
You would be amazed at the good things that will happen if you are willing to let the God of your understanding take the wheel.
So, I guess what I am trying to say here is that I have realized I am not in charge of my own destiny.
God is.
And he can be in charge of yours, too, if you let him.
...
If you take nothing else away from this blog, please remember what happened to Eddie McCreery, what happened to me, what happened to my children, Kristen, Ian and Kavanaugh, and think about your loved ones.
Are you willing to lay your addictions, your habits and hangups down, and seek God's help?
All it takes is this simple prayer: "God help me."
Then, take action.
Go to inpatient or outpatient rehab, if you can. Find recovery at a local NA or AA clubhouse.
Get a sponsor. Work a program, and be accountable for your actions.
Ask for God to lead, guide and direct your paths.
He will never leave you or forsake you.
Amen.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Three years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
Eddy McCreery is on my mind everyday.
I think about him as I go about my daily life, working, going to recovery meetings, in my interactions with family and friends, and especially when I speak to groups about the accident.
I have been doing that a lot lately. I guess that's what I felt compelled to write again.
Today, I spoke to a support group for women whose children were taken by the Department of Children's Services because of mother's drug use.
On Feb. 10, I was at a local church speaking to about 50 youth and six adult workers.
The audience changes, but the message is always the same: this is what can happen to you if you drink and drive.
I tell them how I had everything in the world going for me.
I was married while I was going to college, and then divorced and became a single mother, who was holding down a job as a reporter first in Dickson and then in Gallatin.
My second year out of the gate as a professional journalist, I won second place in the Tennessee Press Association Contest for best news reporting for a series of stories I wrote about groundwater contamination, stemming from the illegal dumping of toxic chemicals in the Dickson County Landfill.
In Gallatin, I won two first-place awards at the TPA contest, one in 2007 for best news reporting, and one in 2009 for best single feature.
I had three wonderful children, a daughter and two sons, who lived with me two weeks out of every month and with their dad the same amount of time in a joint-custody arrangement.
Perry Baggs, my longtime boyfriend who died in July, was an accomplished musician, a founding member of Jason and The Scorchers, the pioneers of alternative country music, and more specifically, a music genre some call country punk or cowpunk.
The Americana Music Association awarded JATS a lifetime achievement award in best performance in 2008, the band has a display at the Country Music Hall of Fame, and more than three decades of critical acclaim from around the world.
I was living a dream life.
...
But somewhere down deep, I was unhappy and it manifested in self-destructive ways.
I smoked marijuana daily for 18 years. I had started drinking at the age of 15, and although alcohol wasn't my drug of choice, it was the one that ultimately took all my choices away.
I was on prescription Xanax, and I only abused it one time, the night I had the accident which ended Eddy McCreery's life.
My decision to mix Xanax and alcohol cost a man his life, and a family a husband, father, brother and uncle.
That's something I can never truly make right, but I am trying, in my own way, to do what I can to make what my program of recovery refers to as a living amends to the McCreery family.
This entails living a sober life, a life that is accountable to a sponsor and to others in recovery and ultimately to my higher power, who I call God.
It involves humbling myself every time I tell my story to a different group, every time I play the WSMV footage of my arrest and three subsequent stories and the audio of the 911 call that came in shortly after the accident occurred.
I have seen and heard those recordings countless times now, but it still feels like someone is stabbing me in the heart every time I realize the pain I caused the McCreery family and my own family, a wound that will never truly heal.
...
I liken what I did to a tornado that tore two families apart. The McCreerys lost someone they loved forever, or until they meet him in heaven, if you believe as I do.
Mine suffered as three families were forced to live under one roof, and shove two extra households of furniture in two barn buildings, an attic and a basement.
My children had to move to White House and be separated from their mother for the majority of the last three years. I have only been able to see them every other weekend during that time. I have very few pictures. I can't be in their lives daily to be a parent. It's impossible to be a momma over the phone, but I do my best.
I try to cherish the time I do have with them and not dwell on their absence, but on some nights the separation anxiety I feel, coupled with the sometimes debilitating grief I experience over Perry's death, makes it nearly impossible to be positive.
Then, there's the jail time.
I know many will say 'it could be a lot worse.'
Yes. I know that.
But it doesn't make the time I spend there any easier, or make it go by any faster.
Every day you spend in lockup feels like a week. Weeks feel like months, and months feel like years.
The state also revoked my driver's license, and I although I have a job, I am extremely underemployed.
I am not trying to elicit sympathy. I simply want the reader to know my consequences extend way beyond 10 years of probation and two weeks of incarceration a year.
The time I have lost with my children alone is severe punishment for my crimes. It's not their fault, but they are suffering because of my actions.
These consequences will not end today or tomorrow. Some will last 8 more years. Some will last a lifetime.
...
Although, I can easily get down thinking about the ramifications of my actions, I can just as easily feel inspired about the work I am doing to spread the message in and around the Nashville area.
That's what gets me through the hard times.
I am court-ordered to speak twice a year, on Mr. McCreery's birthday, Feb. 10, and on the anniversary of the accident, Oct. 22, but I do it as often as possible.
I believe that God can work through me to make a difference.
So, when I think about the mission, if you will, nothing else matters.
I am inspired when I hear mothers come to me and tell me how their teenage sons kicked a drug habit after hearing my speech.
I know I must be doing something right.
God is working through me to make all of this possible.
Without his blessing, without the Holy Spirit leading, guiding and directing my words and my path, there can be no stories like that one to be told.
...
I recently read the book of Jonah in the Bible.
He was the one who ran from the Lord, and ended up being thrown into the sea and swallowed into the belly of a big fish for his disobedience.
I could relate to the rebellion, and the ultimate humility that took place in that man of God's heart.
For it is only through our humility and our willingness to turn our will and lives over to a higher power that we will be happy, joyous and free. Self sacrifice and service to others also play a vital role in that transformation.
I don't make this stuff up. I have lived it.
You would be amazed at the good things that will happen if you are willing to let the God of your understanding take the wheel.
So, I guess what I am trying to say here is that I have realized I am not in charge of my own destiny.
God is.
And he can be in charge of yours, too, if you let him.
...
If you take nothing else away from this blog, please remember what happened to Eddie McCreery, what happened to me, what happened to my children, Kristen, Ian and Kavanaugh, and think about your loved ones.
Are you willing to lay your addictions, your habits and hangups down, and seek God's help?
All it takes is this simple prayer: "God help me."
Then, take action.
Go to inpatient or outpatient rehab, if you can. Find recovery at a local NA or AA clubhouse.
Get a sponsor. Work a program, and be accountable for your actions.
Ask for God to lead, guide and direct your paths.
He will never leave you or forsake you.
Amen.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
My second Christmas in jail
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Three years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
A slow cold drizzle was falling outside the Davidson County Jail for women when I was released a little more than 24 hours ago.
I borrowed one of the facility's coats to keep from getting soaking wet as I exited one building in the complex and entered another to hand over my laundry and receive my clothing and property, upon release.
A female deputy escorted me to the jail's facade, where my mom and two nieces were waiting just inside the door. Across the parking lot, my kids were waiting inside my parent's van.
My mom, Kathy, lit up when she saw me. She was all fixed up with her traditional blue eyeshadow and pink lipstick. I said, "Mom." She said, "Hi." Then, she embraced me and said, "I love you."
I said, "I love you, too."
...
Leaving is always the best part. I won't lie.
It's not a place anyone wants to be.
The food is bad. The sleep is horrible, and the deputies are in perpetually bad moods.
If that ain't enough to drive you crazy, then being deprived of mental health medications you need to survive, loneliness or isolation will get you.
And that's what happened to me for most of the week I spent during my second Christmas behind bars.
I retreated from everyone around me for 75 percent of the time I was there.
Without my medication for post-traumatic stress disorder, something I was diagnosed with after the wreck; my non-narcotic anxiety medication; and the medicine I was prescribed by a psychiatrist in August because I couldn't sleep after Perry died; I was absolutely miserable, most of the time.
...
I've heard the comment made, "Well, jail isn't supposed to be the Holiday Inn."
Well, no, it's not. I wholeheartedly agree. I'm there to serve my time.
But you see, there's a little thing called the Mental Health Act in the U.S., which requires jails to administer mental health medications to inmates while they are incarcerated.
The Davidson County Jail's psychiatrist took one look at a written note from my psychiatrist stating that 'if I did not stay on this list of medications continuously, I could decompensate and require emergency care' and simply ignored it.
That doctor only approved two of my prescribed medications, without knowing the first thing about my mental history, how long I had been taking the medicine that was being denied or any other information that would help him or her make that decision.
I met with the mental health department official at the jail who explained to me that the facility doesn't treat any inmate for sleep or anxiety, only for illnesses the facility's psychiatrist determines to be organic, with no possibility of change.
Also, in most every case, inmates who serve short periods of time, or "weekenders," do not get any mental health medications, whether they serve two or 45 days, according to the mental health official at the jail.
An inmate is an inmate, regardless of the length of the time they get to serve for their crime.
I believe the jail is following its own interpretation of the federal law. The policy does not seem fair to me, or that it would meet the spirit of the act.
Is the treatment being performed adequate according to federal statute?
That's the looming question.
And I intend to find out the answer.
...
In my case, I am a weekender, who is in jail a week every six months. You might say to yourself, "you can go a week without your medications. It won't kill you."
Maybe. Maybe not.
One of those medications is a blood pressure pill, but it is used for PTSD.
Can you imagine not giving a blood pressure pill to a heart patient for a week?
Forget about me for a minute.
There are women in that jail who are suffering everyday because some jackass can't pick up a pen and put his or her name on a piece of paper and prescribe what she needs to survive.
And since I am dually-diagnosed with mental health issues and addiction, I know that the majority of the women who are incarcerated for alcohol or drugs also take mental health meds.
I witnessed the number of women who were present at med-pass, when medications are disbursed at the jail.
If I didn't get my nighttime medications, I can't even imagine how many of the 900-some-odd women have to suffer at some level because a psychiatrist at the jail thought, 'Oh. She'll be alright without that one.'
Needless to say, I'm pissed that this is happening, not only to me but to a lot of women who are incarcerated.
You see, they are not bad people. They just made mistakes.
Addiction is a bitch. I knew her well.
It's just that I have a life plan now that helps me put the plug in the jug, drop to my knees on the floor and focus my eyes and heart on God.
...
And I have to say that even in that cold, concrete-walled up institution, I found God.
He was waiting to help me; all I had to do was ask.
Every night, when I would toss and turn for hours and cry about Perry, I would cry out to the Lord to help me get through it.
And every morning, I'd wake up and find that I got some sleep, although it wasn't as much as I was accustomed to getting.
I found God every day during our recovery meetings, where the women would sometimes pour out their hearts, saying they didn't know how to stay sober. Others would vow to stay away from old playmates and playgrounds.
Listening to them all, I lifted them up in prayer. Pragmatically, I knew they wouldn't all make it, but I still hoped.
...
And then the night before I left, I attended a church meeting that held me together until it was time to go home.
Raising my hands up, I surrendered to the Lord's will and praised his name.
I read the Word of God.
Finding myself enjoying it, I forgot where I was and just focused on the light of the world.
Something happened to me that night.
In my bunk later, I prayed God would make me a vessel for his will.
I prayed that He would let me know when to speak out and when to be humble.
In treatment three years ago, we played a card game with angel cards and my angel said I was a light worker, someone who helps other people through their work.
As a former journalist, that made sense to me.
So, today I am just waiting for my next assignment.
And I look forward to letting my light shine.
Amen.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Three years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
A slow cold drizzle was falling outside the Davidson County Jail for women when I was released a little more than 24 hours ago.
I borrowed one of the facility's coats to keep from getting soaking wet as I exited one building in the complex and entered another to hand over my laundry and receive my clothing and property, upon release.
A female deputy escorted me to the jail's facade, where my mom and two nieces were waiting just inside the door. Across the parking lot, my kids were waiting inside my parent's van.
My mom, Kathy, lit up when she saw me. She was all fixed up with her traditional blue eyeshadow and pink lipstick. I said, "Mom." She said, "Hi." Then, she embraced me and said, "I love you."
I said, "I love you, too."
...
Leaving is always the best part. I won't lie.
It's not a place anyone wants to be.
The food is bad. The sleep is horrible, and the deputies are in perpetually bad moods.
If that ain't enough to drive you crazy, then being deprived of mental health medications you need to survive, loneliness or isolation will get you.
And that's what happened to me for most of the week I spent during my second Christmas behind bars.
I retreated from everyone around me for 75 percent of the time I was there.
Without my medication for post-traumatic stress disorder, something I was diagnosed with after the wreck; my non-narcotic anxiety medication; and the medicine I was prescribed by a psychiatrist in August because I couldn't sleep after Perry died; I was absolutely miserable, most of the time.
...
I've heard the comment made, "Well, jail isn't supposed to be the Holiday Inn."
Well, no, it's not. I wholeheartedly agree. I'm there to serve my time.
But you see, there's a little thing called the Mental Health Act in the U.S., which requires jails to administer mental health medications to inmates while they are incarcerated.
The Davidson County Jail's psychiatrist took one look at a written note from my psychiatrist stating that 'if I did not stay on this list of medications continuously, I could decompensate and require emergency care' and simply ignored it.
That doctor only approved two of my prescribed medications, without knowing the first thing about my mental history, how long I had been taking the medicine that was being denied or any other information that would help him or her make that decision.
I met with the mental health department official at the jail who explained to me that the facility doesn't treat any inmate for sleep or anxiety, only for illnesses the facility's psychiatrist determines to be organic, with no possibility of change.
Also, in most every case, inmates who serve short periods of time, or "weekenders," do not get any mental health medications, whether they serve two or 45 days, according to the mental health official at the jail.
An inmate is an inmate, regardless of the length of the time they get to serve for their crime.
I believe the jail is following its own interpretation of the federal law. The policy does not seem fair to me, or that it would meet the spirit of the act.
Is the treatment being performed adequate according to federal statute?
That's the looming question.
And I intend to find out the answer.
...
In my case, I am a weekender, who is in jail a week every six months. You might say to yourself, "you can go a week without your medications. It won't kill you."
Maybe. Maybe not.
One of those medications is a blood pressure pill, but it is used for PTSD.
Can you imagine not giving a blood pressure pill to a heart patient for a week?
Forget about me for a minute.
There are women in that jail who are suffering everyday because some jackass can't pick up a pen and put his or her name on a piece of paper and prescribe what she needs to survive.
And since I am dually-diagnosed with mental health issues and addiction, I know that the majority of the women who are incarcerated for alcohol or drugs also take mental health meds.
I witnessed the number of women who were present at med-pass, when medications are disbursed at the jail.
If I didn't get my nighttime medications, I can't even imagine how many of the 900-some-odd women have to suffer at some level because a psychiatrist at the jail thought, 'Oh. She'll be alright without that one.'
Needless to say, I'm pissed that this is happening, not only to me but to a lot of women who are incarcerated.
You see, they are not bad people. They just made mistakes.
Addiction is a bitch. I knew her well.
It's just that I have a life plan now that helps me put the plug in the jug, drop to my knees on the floor and focus my eyes and heart on God.
...
And I have to say that even in that cold, concrete-walled up institution, I found God.
He was waiting to help me; all I had to do was ask.
Every night, when I would toss and turn for hours and cry about Perry, I would cry out to the Lord to help me get through it.
And every morning, I'd wake up and find that I got some sleep, although it wasn't as much as I was accustomed to getting.
I found God every day during our recovery meetings, where the women would sometimes pour out their hearts, saying they didn't know how to stay sober. Others would vow to stay away from old playmates and playgrounds.
Listening to them all, I lifted them up in prayer. Pragmatically, I knew they wouldn't all make it, but I still hoped.
...
And then the night before I left, I attended a church meeting that held me together until it was time to go home.
Raising my hands up, I surrendered to the Lord's will and praised his name.
I read the Word of God.
Finding myself enjoying it, I forgot where I was and just focused on the light of the world.
Something happened to me that night.
In my bunk later, I prayed God would make me a vessel for his will.
I prayed that He would let me know when to speak out and when to be humble.
In treatment three years ago, we played a card game with angel cards and my angel said I was a light worker, someone who helps other people through their work.
As a former journalist, that made sense to me.
So, today I am just waiting for my next assignment.
And I look forward to letting my light shine.
Amen.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
It's almost time for jail again
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
A week from Friday I'll be turning myself in again for a week stint in the Davidson County jail.
That's a consequence of my actions. I drove drunk, hit and killed Eddy McCreery and left the scene without even knowing what I had done.
That was a little more than three years ago. I haven't had a drop to drink or any drugs since.
With only a few days left, this is about the time where I start wishing the hours and the days would be longer, longer so that the inevitable - my incarceration - wouldn't happen again.
Back in the recesses of my mind, I know this isn't feasible and I can't fool myself for long.
But for today, I'm free and that's a blessing.
...
I got a new probation officer recently, and she told me there is a woman on her caseload who committed vehicular homicide. She's in jail. She was driving the wrong way on I-24 and caused someone's death.
She got a 10-year sentence, the same as mine, but she has to serve two years of it day for day.
I am so grateful not to be locked up for that length of time. I'm grateful to Mr. McCreery's family, who
must have agreed with the district attorney to offer me my sentence.
I have some special conditions. I go to jail every six months for a week, at Christmas and at Father's Day. I am required to speak on my victim's birthday and the anniversary of the accident. I have to attend recovery
meetings every week. I had 240 hours of community service, which I have completed.
...
The speaking engagements have really been a healing experience for me.
Although I am required to speak twice a year, I do it as often as possible. I had about 14 dates last year.
These talks help me because I walk around with the knowledge everyday that I unwittingly, drunkenly, ran over and killed a husband and a father, a brother and an uncle.
That's hard to live with.
For the first two years, I couldn't get out of bed and face myself in the mirror let alone my family members and friends.
But for an hour each time I speak I get to let you in. I get to reveal the path of destruction I blazed through two families.
I get to pour out my heart and soul to a captive audience about what addiction looks like, who it hurts,
the lasting ramifications of my poor choices on the innocent sons and daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters.
Sound like it would be gut-wrenching to relive it again and again?
Guess what? It's just the opposite.
It's the best thing I have ever done for myself. By focusing less and less on myself and more and more on the message of what can happen if you drink and drive, I am becoming whole again.
...
My mission today is not to recruit people for the recovery program in which I participate.
It's not to teach you how to get sober.
I'm not really interested in divulging the particulars of how I achieved three years of continuous sobriety.
What I am focused on today is sharing my experience, strength and hope.
In gritty detail, I will show you what self-sabotage looks like and how one moment in time derailed the life of someone who was living the dream with a great job, three wonderful kids and what one popular women's magazine calls "epic love."
What you do with that is your business.
I will always hope that you commit my story to your hearts and minds, and make good choices that will lead you down the right roads to prosperity, love and peace.
I'll be in a location near you sharing my story. Next month, I was invited to speak at three different locations.
I am donating my time for the cause.
Spread the word, and help me reduce drunk-driving fatalities.
Thank you Lord for the opportunities. Amen.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
A week from Friday I'll be turning myself in again for a week stint in the Davidson County jail.
That's a consequence of my actions. I drove drunk, hit and killed Eddy McCreery and left the scene without even knowing what I had done.
That was a little more than three years ago. I haven't had a drop to drink or any drugs since.
With only a few days left, this is about the time where I start wishing the hours and the days would be longer, longer so that the inevitable - my incarceration - wouldn't happen again.
Back in the recesses of my mind, I know this isn't feasible and I can't fool myself for long.
But for today, I'm free and that's a blessing.
...
I got a new probation officer recently, and she told me there is a woman on her caseload who committed vehicular homicide. She's in jail. She was driving the wrong way on I-24 and caused someone's death.
She got a 10-year sentence, the same as mine, but she has to serve two years of it day for day.
I am so grateful not to be locked up for that length of time. I'm grateful to Mr. McCreery's family, who
must have agreed with the district attorney to offer me my sentence.
I have some special conditions. I go to jail every six months for a week, at Christmas and at Father's Day. I am required to speak on my victim's birthday and the anniversary of the accident. I have to attend recovery
meetings every week. I had 240 hours of community service, which I have completed.
...
The speaking engagements have really been a healing experience for me.
Although I am required to speak twice a year, I do it as often as possible. I had about 14 dates last year.
These talks help me because I walk around with the knowledge everyday that I unwittingly, drunkenly, ran over and killed a husband and a father, a brother and an uncle.
That's hard to live with.
For the first two years, I couldn't get out of bed and face myself in the mirror let alone my family members and friends.
But for an hour each time I speak I get to let you in. I get to reveal the path of destruction I blazed through two families.
I get to pour out my heart and soul to a captive audience about what addiction looks like, who it hurts,
the lasting ramifications of my poor choices on the innocent sons and daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters.
Sound like it would be gut-wrenching to relive it again and again?
Guess what? It's just the opposite.
It's the best thing I have ever done for myself. By focusing less and less on myself and more and more on the message of what can happen if you drink and drive, I am becoming whole again.
...
My mission today is not to recruit people for the recovery program in which I participate.
It's not to teach you how to get sober.
I'm not really interested in divulging the particulars of how I achieved three years of continuous sobriety.
What I am focused on today is sharing my experience, strength and hope.
In gritty detail, I will show you what self-sabotage looks like and how one moment in time derailed the life of someone who was living the dream with a great job, three wonderful kids and what one popular women's magazine calls "epic love."
What you do with that is your business.
I will always hope that you commit my story to your hearts and minds, and make good choices that will lead you down the right roads to prosperity, love and peace.
I'll be in a location near you sharing my story. Next month, I was invited to speak at three different locations.
I am donating my time for the cause.
Spread the word, and help me reduce drunk-driving fatalities.
Thank you Lord for the opportunities. Amen.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Preparing mentally for high school students
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
In about a month, I will be facing high school students again to tell them about my tragic mistake.
It's always a sobering experience to relive the last days of my 20-year career with alcohol and drugs, culminating with the insertion of my keys into my ignition one more time for a ride down I-40 West that resulted in Eddy McCreery's death.
It sounds like it would be hard for me to do, but it's not.
I have told my story so many times in the last three years that it comes naturally.
The biggest thing it does is that it gets me out of myself.
I need that so desperately right now.
Perry Baggs III, the love of my life for 12 years, died two months ago.
It's all I can do to put one foot in front of the other.
I know how the McCreerys must have felt when their loved one was ripped out of their lives in an instant since that's what happened to me.
...
Whenever I go on these speaking engagements, I share my experience, strength and hope.
My experience this year will be different since the one person who loved me as much as my children do is no longer alive.
Dealing with a sudden death of a loved one is hard, but losing a significant other is a whole other kind of melancholy.
It's unbearable. It's debilitating, and no one around me understands what I am going through.
What I hope to weave into my delivery to the teenagers this year is that I know what it must be like for the McCreerys.
They will never get to pick up the phone and call Eddy.
He can't go out to eat with them anymore.
There will be no Christmases or Father's Days with his daughter anymore.
Death separates us from our loved ones.
I separated Eddy's family from him by causing his death.
And now, I've been separated from Perry until God calls me home.
...
I hope my suffering will make my presentation more compelling.
God gave me this testimony for a reason.
I intend to use it to tell every teenager I can about what alcohol and drugs did to my life and to the lives of Eddy McCreery and his family members.
Some cheap Chardonnay and half of a one-milligram Xanax cost us all.
It's my fault.
At some point in nearly three years, I had to decide whether I was going to lay down and die over the guilt I feel over Eddy's death, or go on living somehow, someway.
I chose the latter.
...
Each day, I make myself get out of bed, even though I'd rather lay there under the covers, all snuggled up so that I can grieve and hurt over Perry.
There's something to be said about walking through the pain.
God has a way of helping those who choose to help themselves.
In turn, we pass it along by helping other people.
That's part of what keeps me sober, one day at a time.
I pray that the students I speak to this year won't have to go through what I have to develop this wisdom.
I hope they apply my story to their hearts and minds, and that they tell somebody they care about.
I pray this prayer in Jesus' name.
Amen.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
In about a month, I will be facing high school students again to tell them about my tragic mistake.
It's always a sobering experience to relive the last days of my 20-year career with alcohol and drugs, culminating with the insertion of my keys into my ignition one more time for a ride down I-40 West that resulted in Eddy McCreery's death.
It sounds like it would be hard for me to do, but it's not.
I have told my story so many times in the last three years that it comes naturally.
The biggest thing it does is that it gets me out of myself.
I need that so desperately right now.
Perry Baggs III, the love of my life for 12 years, died two months ago.
It's all I can do to put one foot in front of the other.
I know how the McCreerys must have felt when their loved one was ripped out of their lives in an instant since that's what happened to me.
...
Whenever I go on these speaking engagements, I share my experience, strength and hope.
My experience this year will be different since the one person who loved me as much as my children do is no longer alive.
Dealing with a sudden death of a loved one is hard, but losing a significant other is a whole other kind of melancholy.
It's unbearable. It's debilitating, and no one around me understands what I am going through.
What I hope to weave into my delivery to the teenagers this year is that I know what it must be like for the McCreerys.
They will never get to pick up the phone and call Eddy.
He can't go out to eat with them anymore.
There will be no Christmases or Father's Days with his daughter anymore.
Death separates us from our loved ones.
I separated Eddy's family from him by causing his death.
And now, I've been separated from Perry until God calls me home.
...
I hope my suffering will make my presentation more compelling.
God gave me this testimony for a reason.
I intend to use it to tell every teenager I can about what alcohol and drugs did to my life and to the lives of Eddy McCreery and his family members.
Some cheap Chardonnay and half of a one-milligram Xanax cost us all.
It's my fault.
At some point in nearly three years, I had to decide whether I was going to lay down and die over the guilt I feel over Eddy's death, or go on living somehow, someway.
I chose the latter.
...
Each day, I make myself get out of bed, even though I'd rather lay there under the covers, all snuggled up so that I can grieve and hurt over Perry.
There's something to be said about walking through the pain.
God has a way of helping those who choose to help themselves.
In turn, we pass it along by helping other people.
That's part of what keeps me sober, one day at a time.
I pray that the students I speak to this year won't have to go through what I have to develop this wisdom.
I hope they apply my story to their hearts and minds, and that they tell somebody they care about.
I pray this prayer in Jesus' name.
Amen.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
My 20-year high school reunion
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
It's been nearly three years since I made a fatal mistake that took Eddy McCreery's life, and changed the lives of two families forever.
And tonight, I celebrated my 20-year high school reunion, clean and sober
It was empowering to be in a room with a fully stocked bar, seeing folks with various concoctions of all kinds in their hands, knowing that today I don't have to pick up a drink.
For me in my recovery today, there's nothing a drink or drug would make any better.
Not that there wasn't temptation.
I spotted a lonely bottle of Chambord - my favorite, expensive raspberry liqueur - on the bar surrounded by glasses of various shapes and sizes.
And I remembered what it was like to make my famous purple hooters. A couple I know was enjoying Blue Moons.
The last three years of my drinking career flashed before my eyes.
For most of my teens and early 20s, I was really shy. That is, unless I was under the influence of something.
Then, I could talk to you about anything under the sun: life, love, fears, hopes and dreams. And I did.
In my thirties, I was going out to bars and socializing, Then, I was driving home.
I thought about everything last night. I thought about how it was initially fun to drink and use marijuana.
I thought about the last three years of my active addiction, which were one big drunken haze and cloud of smoke.
Finally, my mind went there.
...
I saw myself walking down the street, jumping into my car and driving away. I remembered how I couldn't read the interstate signs, and how eventually I saw a sign that said "Nashville Airport," and I knew I was going the wrong way.I fell asleep at the wheel just for a second. Then, there was an impact.
I knew I had hit something, but when my car came to a rest on the side of the road, I didn't see anything and I drove away.
I ended up at Opry Mills Mall, where I passed out again at the wheel. I woke up to handcuffs being placed on my wrists.
Detained in a patrol car, I could see the officers shining lights on my car. I didn't know why they were doing that.
They had me do field-sobriety tasks, which they said I failed.
An officer asked me a bunch of questions.
And at some point, the police decided to transport me to Nashville General Hospital to get a blood-alcohol test to determine the level of my intoxication.
It was at that time that I asked the officer, "Am I being arrested for DUI?"
The officer said, "No, you're being arrested for vehicular homicide by intoxication and leaving the scene of a fatality."
I went into shock like a deer in the headlights.
As soon as I got to the police station, there was a television on, and it was playing a story all about me and my charges.
It was like my worst nightmare was being played out for all of Nashville to see.
...
I eventually made it home to my mom and dad's, and laid in a fetal position on the couch all day.
In the next two weeks, four news stories about me and my charges played on all the television news stations, before I made my initial court appearance.
I was having it rough.
Not only did a man die and his family's life was altered forever, my life and my family's lives were also forever changed.
I got suspended from work. My award-winning journalism career was gone overnight.
The kids had to go live with their dad since I no longer had any income to pay for the rent and gas to take them to school in White House.
My car was impounded, and three years later, it's still there.
I lost the home I had rented for 12 years because the money to pay rent was no longer available.
Everything I knew as my normal was gone overnight.
After two weeks of having to deal with the fallout of my actions and the fact that I had likely killed someone and didn't remember it, I just wanted to end my life, too.
I told my parents I wanted to slit my wrists.
They took me to Parthenon Pavilion. It saved my life.
There, I was diagnosed with a couple of mental illnesses, for which I receive treatment. And there I learned about the program of recovery for the first time.
...
A couple of people brought a recovery meeting to the hospital.
They shared their experience, strength and hope with me. They began to tell me things like, "Get a sponsor. Do 90 meetings in 90 days. Read the Big Book. Pray and meditate. Try to help out another alcoholic or addict."
I have done these things to the best of my ability for the last 34 months.
On my own, I went to rehab at Cumberland Heights. I went to inpatient and outpatient programs there.
I learned about the disease of alcoholism, how it's a disease of the mind and the body that primarily centers in the mind.
Oh, and there's a thing called the phenomenon of craving.
That's where you take a substance into your body. Then, your body just craves more and more of that substance before you put it into your body again.
You become like a hamster on the wheel, chasing your addiction around.
For me, ending a man's life landed me on Step 0.
That's "this s*** has to stop"
I liken it to being dunked head-first into a creek. You know how cold that is?
Well, that's what happened to me by having to get sober after causing someone's death.
...
A miracle happened this week that allowed me to be a part of the 20-year high school reunion at all.
You see, I am not supposed to be in any kind of a bar. I signed probation paperwork stating that I had to stay away from such establishments.
And I had my first meeting this week with a brand-new probation officer.
Last year, I was on Community Corrections, an intensive probation program. This month, I started state probation, which is a little less strict.
I had to buy my tickets in the time between completing one program and beginning another. I thought to myself, 'Should I go and hope I don't get caught?'
Ultimately, I did the right thing, and asked my probation officer for her permission. She, in turn, asked for Judge Mark Fishburn's consent.
He e-mailed my p.o. the same day, and let her know that I could go. He said, 'You can go. Just don't drink.'
"Hey. No problem," I thought.
Thinking about spending the next 10 years of my life in a cell is a big incentive to stay straight.
But today, I also want to be sober as well.
...
I thought about all of this during various points of the night.
I actually got to share my testimony with a select few people at the reunion, wherever it was appropriate.
Hopefully, I got some people to think.
Everybody thinks they're invincible when it comes to drinking and driving.
I always did.
"It won't happen to me," they say.
I'm here to tell you, "It can happen. It DID happen to me."
As looked around, I saw toasts being made.
There was the general merriment that goes along with an alcohol-fueled party of any sort.
Everybody just loves everybody.
And that's great.
I ain't hating on nobody.
If I hadn't had my accident, I would have been one of them. I guarantee you that.
I couldn't help but wonder how many people were actually riding in a cab after leaving the event.
That's the responsible thing to do, unless you have a sober ride.
When you drive impaired, you're taking your life and lives of everyone else on the road into your hands.
Trust me.
That's not the kind of responsibility you want to sign up for.
I found myself praying silently that everyone would make it home safely, without accidents or DUIs.
And I was proud to be a part of the group.
I was grateful that I didn't have to compromise my morals, my new way of life, to be a part of the crowd.
Today, my life is about being sober, one day at a time.
It's a wonderful life. It really is.
If you want sobriety, there are three things to remember:
Don't drink.
Reach up for God. Then, reach out for other people.
Amen.
...
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
It's been nearly three years since I made a fatal mistake that took Eddy McCreery's life, and changed the lives of two families forever.
And tonight, I celebrated my 20-year high school reunion, clean and sober
It was empowering to be in a room with a fully stocked bar, seeing folks with various concoctions of all kinds in their hands, knowing that today I don't have to pick up a drink.
For me in my recovery today, there's nothing a drink or drug would make any better.
Not that there wasn't temptation.
I spotted a lonely bottle of Chambord - my favorite, expensive raspberry liqueur - on the bar surrounded by glasses of various shapes and sizes.
And I remembered what it was like to make my famous purple hooters. A couple I know was enjoying Blue Moons.
The last three years of my drinking career flashed before my eyes.
For most of my teens and early 20s, I was really shy. That is, unless I was under the influence of something.
Then, I could talk to you about anything under the sun: life, love, fears, hopes and dreams. And I did.
In my thirties, I was going out to bars and socializing, Then, I was driving home.
I thought about everything last night. I thought about how it was initially fun to drink and use marijuana.
I thought about the last three years of my active addiction, which were one big drunken haze and cloud of smoke.
Finally, my mind went there.
...
I saw myself walking down the street, jumping into my car and driving away. I remembered how I couldn't read the interstate signs, and how eventually I saw a sign that said "Nashville Airport," and I knew I was going the wrong way.I fell asleep at the wheel just for a second. Then, there was an impact.
I knew I had hit something, but when my car came to a rest on the side of the road, I didn't see anything and I drove away.
I ended up at Opry Mills Mall, where I passed out again at the wheel. I woke up to handcuffs being placed on my wrists.
Detained in a patrol car, I could see the officers shining lights on my car. I didn't know why they were doing that.
They had me do field-sobriety tasks, which they said I failed.
An officer asked me a bunch of questions.
And at some point, the police decided to transport me to Nashville General Hospital to get a blood-alcohol test to determine the level of my intoxication.
It was at that time that I asked the officer, "Am I being arrested for DUI?"
The officer said, "No, you're being arrested for vehicular homicide by intoxication and leaving the scene of a fatality."
I went into shock like a deer in the headlights.
As soon as I got to the police station, there was a television on, and it was playing a story all about me and my charges.
It was like my worst nightmare was being played out for all of Nashville to see.
...
I eventually made it home to my mom and dad's, and laid in a fetal position on the couch all day.
In the next two weeks, four news stories about me and my charges played on all the television news stations, before I made my initial court appearance.
I was having it rough.
Not only did a man die and his family's life was altered forever, my life and my family's lives were also forever changed.
I got suspended from work. My award-winning journalism career was gone overnight.
The kids had to go live with their dad since I no longer had any income to pay for the rent and gas to take them to school in White House.
My car was impounded, and three years later, it's still there.
I lost the home I had rented for 12 years because the money to pay rent was no longer available.
Everything I knew as my normal was gone overnight.
After two weeks of having to deal with the fallout of my actions and the fact that I had likely killed someone and didn't remember it, I just wanted to end my life, too.
I told my parents I wanted to slit my wrists.
They took me to Parthenon Pavilion. It saved my life.
There, I was diagnosed with a couple of mental illnesses, for which I receive treatment. And there I learned about the program of recovery for the first time.
...
A couple of people brought a recovery meeting to the hospital.
They shared their experience, strength and hope with me. They began to tell me things like, "Get a sponsor. Do 90 meetings in 90 days. Read the Big Book. Pray and meditate. Try to help out another alcoholic or addict."
I have done these things to the best of my ability for the last 34 months.
On my own, I went to rehab at Cumberland Heights. I went to inpatient and outpatient programs there.
I learned about the disease of alcoholism, how it's a disease of the mind and the body that primarily centers in the mind.
Oh, and there's a thing called the phenomenon of craving.
That's where you take a substance into your body. Then, your body just craves more and more of that substance before you put it into your body again.
You become like a hamster on the wheel, chasing your addiction around.
For me, ending a man's life landed me on Step 0.
That's "this s*** has to stop"
I liken it to being dunked head-first into a creek. You know how cold that is?
Well, that's what happened to me by having to get sober after causing someone's death.
...
A miracle happened this week that allowed me to be a part of the 20-year high school reunion at all.
You see, I am not supposed to be in any kind of a bar. I signed probation paperwork stating that I had to stay away from such establishments.
And I had my first meeting this week with a brand-new probation officer.
Last year, I was on Community Corrections, an intensive probation program. This month, I started state probation, which is a little less strict.
I had to buy my tickets in the time between completing one program and beginning another. I thought to myself, 'Should I go and hope I don't get caught?'
Ultimately, I did the right thing, and asked my probation officer for her permission. She, in turn, asked for Judge Mark Fishburn's consent.
He e-mailed my p.o. the same day, and let her know that I could go. He said, 'You can go. Just don't drink.'
"Hey. No problem," I thought.
Thinking about spending the next 10 years of my life in a cell is a big incentive to stay straight.
But today, I also want to be sober as well.
...
I thought about all of this during various points of the night.
I actually got to share my testimony with a select few people at the reunion, wherever it was appropriate.
Hopefully, I got some people to think.
Everybody thinks they're invincible when it comes to drinking and driving.
I always did.
"It won't happen to me," they say.
I'm here to tell you, "It can happen. It DID happen to me."
As looked around, I saw toasts being made.
There was the general merriment that goes along with an alcohol-fueled party of any sort.
Everybody just loves everybody.
And that's great.
I ain't hating on nobody.
If I hadn't had my accident, I would have been one of them. I guarantee you that.
I couldn't help but wonder how many people were actually riding in a cab after leaving the event.
That's the responsible thing to do, unless you have a sober ride.
When you drive impaired, you're taking your life and lives of everyone else on the road into your hands.
Trust me.
That's not the kind of responsibility you want to sign up for.
I found myself praying silently that everyone would make it home safely, without accidents or DUIs.
And I was proud to be a part of the group.
I was grateful that I didn't have to compromise my morals, my new way of life, to be a part of the crowd.
Today, my life is about being sober, one day at a time.
It's a wonderful life. It really is.
If you want sobriety, there are three things to remember:
Don't drink.
Reach up for God. Then, reach out for other people.
Amen.
...
Monday, June 25, 2012
Second and THIRD incarceration
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
Tonight, I was released after spending five days in jail. I initially reported for my incarceration on Friday, June 15, and was mistakenly released two days later. I asked the officer in the pod, "Am I being transferred to a different pod?" He said, "No, you're being released." I didn't ask ANY more questions. I just rolled with it. I went back to work the next day, and two days later, the Sheriff's Department showed up at work and basically said, "My bad. You have to come back and do your five days." That part went as well as it could have. I was at work, and my sister called. I answered the phone in the break room, and she said, "The Sheriff's Department is on their way up there." I said, "Are you serious?" My friend, Miss Ann, was there, and she was like an angel. I was basically in shock, and she helped me clock out, get my purse and lunch and go and wait for the Sheriff's Department to come to my work. I thought they were going to arrest me so I went to the foyer of the business and waited. The officer came in the foyer of the business in plain clothes. He didn't have his badge, handcuffs or his gun, and he just talked to me like a human being. That was God. He said I could work the rest of the day and to report to CDC by 6-6:30 p.m. that evening. So, I did as I was told.
I got there, and had to wait in the lobby for 3 1/2 hours before being taken to intake to get my uniform and laundry bag with toiletries. One good thing was that I got to go right back to the P pod, the same pod I was in before, and many of the women I met initially were still there. Like Catherine, who was initially the pod rep when I reported on Friday. I was on my period when I went in and was bleeding so badly that I bled through my pants. She asked the officer on duty to get me another pair. I appreciated that so much. Simple kindnesses like that were extended to me the entire time I was there by the women in the p pod, also known as the recovery or treatment pod. I made so many friends: Catherine, Terrie, Aleta, Tomika, Georgia, Rachel, Portia, Gayle, Robin, Paula, Pauline. I just know I am leaving somebody out. But know this: you all MEAN (present tense) something to me.
I could fill this space with complaints about the food, guards with a bad attitude, not getting my medication as planned for in advance between my probation officer and the medical staff at the jail, not getting to watch movies during the daytime, having to follow rules of a program that I was not a part of, etc. But I won't. I'd rather use this space to talk about the highlights of my stay this go-around.
Portia, thank you for making me laugh so loud when we were on lock-down. I'll always remember: "Rehab for WEEEED?! And talking about trifling, tragic-ass guards.
I'll always remember the night I got to give my testimony in the AA meeting, start to finish. I had chill bumps from head to toe as I shared how God saved me from 12-36 years in prison, how he uses me to talk to teenagers, people in treatment centers and in jails about my experience, and how he's restoring me one day at a time. As a result, five women asked me to be their sponsor. I consider that a blessing and a privilege.
I'll always remember being banned from the next AA meeting simply because I am a "weekender" and not in the program. As a result, I went to my cell and sang my lungs out. My roommate, Portia, told me women were breaking their necks to look around and try to figure out where that singing was coming from. We laughed so hard about that because there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. By the next night, I had the pod rep's permission to attend the meeting.
I'll always remember the church service Trevecca Community Church sponsored on Sunday night. Those that know me well know God gave me a talent to sing, and I sang from my heart that night. I knew all the words to "Jesus Take the Wheel," "Your Great Name" and "What Love Really Means." It was a release to be able to praise God with the talent he gave me.
I'll always remember those last few minutes, watching the clock, waiting for them to call my name. I was supposed to get out at 6:20 p.m. Fifteen minutes later, I was still in lockup. You always get nervous, and start to think, 'well, they're just going to keep me here.' It didn't happen. The guard called my name, and you never saw somebody sprint up the stairs so fast to get her stuff. I was already packed, and just had to grab my covers off the top bunk.
The walk down the hill toward intake was so glorious. You just know that freedom is on the other side. I hurriedly signed papers, threw my laundry into a bin and got my clothes back on. My mom, my nieces, Kasey, Aaliyah and Trista were waiting for me outside. Hugging my dad, and saying "I made it," is something I'll always remember.
Now, I look forward to the next chapter. I am going to lead five of the women I met through the 12 steps. One of them gets out on Saturday. I can't wait to sit down and talk with her on the other side. My program today is about reaching out for other people and reaching up for God. It's also about sharing my experience, strength and hope. Trying to bless someone else the way I have been blessed. I say, 'come on with me. Share this journey.'
I no longer wallow in the mire of misery I created for myself when I killed Eddy McCreery in a drunk-driving accident. I will always feel sad about that, but I can never change it. So, what I do now is try to make a living amends to him and to myself by living better, sober, one day at a time, and trying to help as many people through this experience as I can. Someone told me about six months ago that Eddy was in recovery. I don't know if that's true or not. I do know this. Together, we are saving hundreds of lives through this tragedy that binds us together. He did not die in vain. His death today stands for a message not to drink or take drugs and drive. And somehow I know that we're going to have the opportunity to talk about this in heaven. That makes me smile. Somehow, I know he's up there smiling, too. Thank you, God, for the opportunities. Amen.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
Tonight, I was released after spending five days in jail. I initially reported for my incarceration on Friday, June 15, and was mistakenly released two days later. I asked the officer in the pod, "Am I being transferred to a different pod?" He said, "No, you're being released." I didn't ask ANY more questions. I just rolled with it. I went back to work the next day, and two days later, the Sheriff's Department showed up at work and basically said, "My bad. You have to come back and do your five days." That part went as well as it could have. I was at work, and my sister called. I answered the phone in the break room, and she said, "The Sheriff's Department is on their way up there." I said, "Are you serious?" My friend, Miss Ann, was there, and she was like an angel. I was basically in shock, and she helped me clock out, get my purse and lunch and go and wait for the Sheriff's Department to come to my work. I thought they were going to arrest me so I went to the foyer of the business and waited. The officer came in the foyer of the business in plain clothes. He didn't have his badge, handcuffs or his gun, and he just talked to me like a human being. That was God. He said I could work the rest of the day and to report to CDC by 6-6:30 p.m. that evening. So, I did as I was told.
I got there, and had to wait in the lobby for 3 1/2 hours before being taken to intake to get my uniform and laundry bag with toiletries. One good thing was that I got to go right back to the P pod, the same pod I was in before, and many of the women I met initially were still there. Like Catherine, who was initially the pod rep when I reported on Friday. I was on my period when I went in and was bleeding so badly that I bled through my pants. She asked the officer on duty to get me another pair. I appreciated that so much. Simple kindnesses like that were extended to me the entire time I was there by the women in the p pod, also known as the recovery or treatment pod. I made so many friends: Catherine, Terrie, Aleta, Tomika, Georgia, Rachel, Portia, Gayle, Robin, Paula, Pauline. I just know I am leaving somebody out. But know this: you all MEAN (present tense) something to me.
I could fill this space with complaints about the food, guards with a bad attitude, not getting my medication as planned for in advance between my probation officer and the medical staff at the jail, not getting to watch movies during the daytime, having to follow rules of a program that I was not a part of, etc. But I won't. I'd rather use this space to talk about the highlights of my stay this go-around.
Portia, thank you for making me laugh so loud when we were on lock-down. I'll always remember: "Rehab for WEEEED?! And talking about trifling, tragic-ass guards.
I'll always remember the night I got to give my testimony in the AA meeting, start to finish. I had chill bumps from head to toe as I shared how God saved me from 12-36 years in prison, how he uses me to talk to teenagers, people in treatment centers and in jails about my experience, and how he's restoring me one day at a time. As a result, five women asked me to be their sponsor. I consider that a blessing and a privilege.
I'll always remember being banned from the next AA meeting simply because I am a "weekender" and not in the program. As a result, I went to my cell and sang my lungs out. My roommate, Portia, told me women were breaking their necks to look around and try to figure out where that singing was coming from. We laughed so hard about that because there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. By the next night, I had the pod rep's permission to attend the meeting.
I'll always remember the church service Trevecca Community Church sponsored on Sunday night. Those that know me well know God gave me a talent to sing, and I sang from my heart that night. I knew all the words to "Jesus Take the Wheel," "Your Great Name" and "What Love Really Means." It was a release to be able to praise God with the talent he gave me.
I'll always remember those last few minutes, watching the clock, waiting for them to call my name. I was supposed to get out at 6:20 p.m. Fifteen minutes later, I was still in lockup. You always get nervous, and start to think, 'well, they're just going to keep me here.' It didn't happen. The guard called my name, and you never saw somebody sprint up the stairs so fast to get her stuff. I was already packed, and just had to grab my covers off the top bunk.
The walk down the hill toward intake was so glorious. You just know that freedom is on the other side. I hurriedly signed papers, threw my laundry into a bin and got my clothes back on. My mom, my nieces, Kasey, Aaliyah and Trista were waiting for me outside. Hugging my dad, and saying "I made it," is something I'll always remember.
Now, I look forward to the next chapter. I am going to lead five of the women I met through the 12 steps. One of them gets out on Saturday. I can't wait to sit down and talk with her on the other side. My program today is about reaching out for other people and reaching up for God. It's also about sharing my experience, strength and hope. Trying to bless someone else the way I have been blessed. I say, 'come on with me. Share this journey.'
I no longer wallow in the mire of misery I created for myself when I killed Eddy McCreery in a drunk-driving accident. I will always feel sad about that, but I can never change it. So, what I do now is try to make a living amends to him and to myself by living better, sober, one day at a time, and trying to help as many people through this experience as I can. Someone told me about six months ago that Eddy was in recovery. I don't know if that's true or not. I do know this. Together, we are saving hundreds of lives through this tragedy that binds us together. He did not die in vain. His death today stands for a message not to drink or take drugs and drive. And somehow I know that we're going to have the opportunity to talk about this in heaven. That makes me smile. Somehow, I know he's up there smiling, too. Thank you, God, for the opportunities. Amen.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Speaking at my alma mater
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
I spoke at Hunter's Lane High School two days this week, on Tuesday and on Friday. I have reached out to all the freshmen in the school, and have imparted to them my wisdom about what can happen if you drink and drive. I feel like they really listened with their ears and hearts.
It was weird being at my alma mater under those circumstances, to stand up there and admit that I killed a man while drinking and driving. I had not stepped foot into the school in the past 20 years since I graduated in May 1992
I graduated with an honors diploma and was in the top 10 percent of my class. I was in the Madrigals, a singing group you had to audition to be a part of. I have fond memories of getting dressed up in my dress and going places and singing with the group in high school. I also have fond memories of football and basketball games and the proms junior and senior year.
So, I told the kids those things, as I introduced myself to them. I let them know I had a normal high school experience and was very successful academically while attending Hunter's Lane. I let them know I went to college at Western Kentucky University and majored in print journalism and french. I let them know I got married young, at age 19, and had three kids by the time I was 24. I got married, had three kids and still graduated from college in my chosen major. I was determined to succeed. And I did for a while before King Alcohol took away my choices and took my life and Eddy McCreery's life down with it.
I talked about how I binge drank from an early age. Most people just call it getting wasted or getting drunk. I drank to get drunk every time. I never drank for the taste or just to drink one drink. It continued, although somewhat in the background of my life, into my early adulthood, through my twenties and thirties.
They say in my 12-step program that alcoholism is a progressive disease, and looking back, I can see how it progressed from getting wasted once in a while as a teenager to being a weekend warrior in my twenties to going out to bars, drinking and driving home in my thirties.
Even though alcohol was sort of in the background at times, it was present, along with marijuana and Xanax. And ultimately it was the combination of alcohol and Xanax that took away my choices, that took away my ability to make a rational decision on whether to drink or drive, ultimately causing Eddy McCreery's death.
I read stories today on the Internet about celebrities like Whitney Houston, who reportedly died as a result of a combination of Xanax, Valium and alcohol, and it makes me sad. I don't know why Xanax is a legal prescription drug. It's like alcohol in a pill form. It is dangerous, and in my case and reportedly Whitney Houston's case, it was deadly.
One thing I encouraged the students to do was to go home and look up the word blackout on the net. I was in a blackout the night Eddy McCreery died. I was not capable of making a decision on whether to drink and drive. That's why I say that alcohol and Xanax took away my choices.
Yes, I chose to take the Xanax after drinking the alcohol. It was by far the biggest mistake I have ever made in my life. I only wish someone had saw fit to stop me from getting behind the wheel.
Several people could have, but no one did. I'm not saying it is anyone's fault, but my own.. But the fact is that I was with several other people that night, and no one looked out for me. They all told my attorney that I was drunk, when questioned as a part of my defense, and no one cared enough to make sure I got home safely. I don't know what to make of that. I only know that it is true that birds of a feather flock together, and most of the time when people are with their friends they emulate their behavior. That was certainly true with me. And that's why I told the kids to be careful who they hang around.
I am not naive enough to believe that I am going to stop these teenagers from every taking a drink, although I wish that were true. I was a bit scared to go this far, but I ended up telling the kids from my heart that I believe that alcohol is evil. It's a legal drug. Our society is so pervasive with messages about alcohol. Commercials make alcohol use look cool. But I'm here to tell you that it is not cool. It ruined my life, for a time, and it is the reason that Eddy McCreery is no longer here to be with his family.
I am sorry if this blog turns anyone off. I can only speak from my experience, and my experience shows that alcohol can be deadly, if used in certain circumstances, like drinking and driving. I will stand against this deadly foe at every turn. I will educate youth and those in treatment facilities about what can happen if you drink and drive for the rest of my life. I feel like it's that important.
I can only hope I save some of these kids from going down the wrong road, drinking because they think it's cool, getting behind the wheel of a car afterward because they think it can't happen to them. I also hope I save them a lot of pain in the long run. I am hurting for having done this to the McCreery family, to myself and to my family. I hurt everyday. And I know the ripple effect the damage I did has had on everyone around me. It destroyed two families.
However, I think it's also important to point out that God is restoring me, a little bit at a time. He took a tragedy and turned it into something positive. He gave me this testimony to affect lives, and he's given me another chance to restore myself with my new job.
It felt so good to be able to give my parents rent money this week and to buy clothes for myself and my family.
I am hopeful now. I know things can and will get better, one day at a time.
Prayer: God, thank you for the blessings you have shown me. Please give me the strength to face whatever comes. I pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
I spoke at Hunter's Lane High School two days this week, on Tuesday and on Friday. I have reached out to all the freshmen in the school, and have imparted to them my wisdom about what can happen if you drink and drive. I feel like they really listened with their ears and hearts.
It was weird being at my alma mater under those circumstances, to stand up there and admit that I killed a man while drinking and driving. I had not stepped foot into the school in the past 20 years since I graduated in May 1992
I graduated with an honors diploma and was in the top 10 percent of my class. I was in the Madrigals, a singing group you had to audition to be a part of. I have fond memories of getting dressed up in my dress and going places and singing with the group in high school. I also have fond memories of football and basketball games and the proms junior and senior year.
So, I told the kids those things, as I introduced myself to them. I let them know I had a normal high school experience and was very successful academically while attending Hunter's Lane. I let them know I went to college at Western Kentucky University and majored in print journalism and french. I let them know I got married young, at age 19, and had three kids by the time I was 24. I got married, had three kids and still graduated from college in my chosen major. I was determined to succeed. And I did for a while before King Alcohol took away my choices and took my life and Eddy McCreery's life down with it.
I talked about how I binge drank from an early age. Most people just call it getting wasted or getting drunk. I drank to get drunk every time. I never drank for the taste or just to drink one drink. It continued, although somewhat in the background of my life, into my early adulthood, through my twenties and thirties.
They say in my 12-step program that alcoholism is a progressive disease, and looking back, I can see how it progressed from getting wasted once in a while as a teenager to being a weekend warrior in my twenties to going out to bars, drinking and driving home in my thirties.
Even though alcohol was sort of in the background at times, it was present, along with marijuana and Xanax. And ultimately it was the combination of alcohol and Xanax that took away my choices, that took away my ability to make a rational decision on whether to drink or drive, ultimately causing Eddy McCreery's death.
I read stories today on the Internet about celebrities like Whitney Houston, who reportedly died as a result of a combination of Xanax, Valium and alcohol, and it makes me sad. I don't know why Xanax is a legal prescription drug. It's like alcohol in a pill form. It is dangerous, and in my case and reportedly Whitney Houston's case, it was deadly.
One thing I encouraged the students to do was to go home and look up the word blackout on the net. I was in a blackout the night Eddy McCreery died. I was not capable of making a decision on whether to drink and drive. That's why I say that alcohol and Xanax took away my choices.
Yes, I chose to take the Xanax after drinking the alcohol. It was by far the biggest mistake I have ever made in my life. I only wish someone had saw fit to stop me from getting behind the wheel.
Several people could have, but no one did. I'm not saying it is anyone's fault, but my own.. But the fact is that I was with several other people that night, and no one looked out for me. They all told my attorney that I was drunk, when questioned as a part of my defense, and no one cared enough to make sure I got home safely. I don't know what to make of that. I only know that it is true that birds of a feather flock together, and most of the time when people are with their friends they emulate their behavior. That was certainly true with me. And that's why I told the kids to be careful who they hang around.
I am not naive enough to believe that I am going to stop these teenagers from every taking a drink, although I wish that were true. I was a bit scared to go this far, but I ended up telling the kids from my heart that I believe that alcohol is evil. It's a legal drug. Our society is so pervasive with messages about alcohol. Commercials make alcohol use look cool. But I'm here to tell you that it is not cool. It ruined my life, for a time, and it is the reason that Eddy McCreery is no longer here to be with his family.
I am sorry if this blog turns anyone off. I can only speak from my experience, and my experience shows that alcohol can be deadly, if used in certain circumstances, like drinking and driving. I will stand against this deadly foe at every turn. I will educate youth and those in treatment facilities about what can happen if you drink and drive for the rest of my life. I feel like it's that important.
I can only hope I save some of these kids from going down the wrong road, drinking because they think it's cool, getting behind the wheel of a car afterward because they think it can't happen to them. I also hope I save them a lot of pain in the long run. I am hurting for having done this to the McCreery family, to myself and to my family. I hurt everyday. And I know the ripple effect the damage I did has had on everyone around me. It destroyed two families.
However, I think it's also important to point out that God is restoring me, a little bit at a time. He took a tragedy and turned it into something positive. He gave me this testimony to affect lives, and he's given me another chance to restore myself with my new job.
It felt so good to be able to give my parents rent money this week and to buy clothes for myself and my family.
I am hopeful now. I know things can and will get better, one day at a time.
Prayer: God, thank you for the blessings you have shown me. Please give me the strength to face whatever comes. I pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Portland High speaks out
One Woman's Journey After Vehicular Homicide
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
It occurred to me over the weekend that I focused too much on the negative responses - a few of the 60 or so I received - in my last post.
Overall, the Portland High School students really seemed to get it.
My message is simple: It's not OK to drink and drive under any circumstances.
I know this because I am responsible for Eddy McCreery's death. He died because I took Xanax, drank wine and got behind the wheel of a car.
I'm not proud of that fact, but I know this: I will work as hard as I can to tell as many students as possible what happened. My hope is to spare them and potential victims and their families everywhere the pain that I have to live with the rest of my life, a pain the McCreerys have to live with daily.
Naysayers may question my motives, my methods and even my words to gauge my sincerity. But you don't have to listen to me.
Listen to the kids that were there. One thing I did ask them was whether I should continue to make the WSMV footage of my arrest and subsequent news stories and the audio of the 911 call that night a part of my presentation.
Here's what some of the students had to say:
...
I think it was great that you still come to schools and hospitals to talk about your story. I'm so sorry that you had to go through with all of that. The video and tape was very effective, and that you should keep showing it to students and families. I'm really glad that you found God, and that you are now clean and sober.
...
The presentation was very informative, and I am very thankful that you came and spoke to us and made this strive to make it known what the consequences. The video and phone call were very heartbreaking, and I'm very sorry you have to live with the pain.
...
I thought it was overall a good/effective presentation.
...
The presentation was good. I believe that whoever you tell this to will surely change their mind. I don't think you need to change your presentation. It is good as it is. This is what it takes to get it through people's heads. So don't change what you're doing.
...
I think your presentation was very touching, and it made me think about my choices. The 911 call is a good thing to use to get people's attention. I appreciate what you are doing. Thank you. I am a parent, so I feel for you, your mother and the family. I can't imagine anybody going through that.
...
I believe the presentation went really well. It was informative, and although I do not drink and do not have any intention of doing so, it definitely changed my view of drinking and driving. The 911 call was a bit graphic. I wouldn't use it for any classes under our age group, but it was a great tool for classes our age. I appreciate your being willing to speak in front of classes. I know that it must be hard for you, but it can definitely change people's lives, as I'm sure you've probably already changed several.
...
I thought the presentation was very important, as well as influencial. I hope that your dreams of becoming a journalist fulfill you, and I hope that your pain doesn't overwhelm you from what God has in store for you.
...
I thought this speaking opened up a lot of people's eyes, it had me tearing up. I hope that no one ever drinks and drives. It's also good that you've been saved by God. Everything that happened, it happened for a reason. Keep your head up, and don't lose faith, and live one day at a time. I wish the best for you. I hope that one day the family forgives you.
...
I think that your story is really sad. I can't relate to how you may have felt or feel. I think it takes a big person to admit you've done something wrong, and that you share your story. My prayers go out to you.
...
This presentation was very informative about drunk-driving. The 911 call was very realistic. The video brought the situation to life for me personally. I now will NEVER drink and drive or drink at all. Thank you for coming. It was a really great presentation.
...
It gives me chills to even hear the story. I can't even imagine such a tragedy, all just because of alcohol and one mistake. I feel sorry for you because it was an accident. All because just one day you drank alcohol. You have lost everything in your life. You telling that story changed my whole outlook on alcohol. You are my hero. You are a wonderful person. And I thank you so much.
...
I think your presentation went very well. You showed me that even a little alcohol could make a large impact on your life. I'm an athlete at this school, and that showed me that making one little mistake could take all my dreams away from me. I just want to say thank you for coming to talk to us today. I feel you have changed a bunch of people's views on drinking and driving. Thanks so much and God bless you.
...
I am a non-user of any drugs, but this presentation has made me thankful that people that has been in your situation who has had to have been force by a court order to talk about one mistake, but they continue to talk to children or in our case, teens about your story. It's inspired me to teach other people. I was glad to hear you found a cure to your illness and have been sober for this long. Keep it up. God bless you., and I will keep you and the family in my prayers.
...
This presentation has made me think that some things happen for a reason, even though the things that happen may not affect you. It always affects others. The video and audio definitely should be included in future presentations. Thank you and God bless you.
...
I really loved hearing your story. My mother was arrested for DUI a year ago, and hearing your story will help me talk to her more about drinking and driving. Your story was very helpful. Thank you. It's perfect just the way it is.
...
I think you were brave enough to talk about everything. You're doing really well helping people realize what all went down and how it played out 10 years is a good amount for going around. But I believe you did a great job and not the best way to be punished for a crazy night, but the best way for not remembering I suppose.
...
I thought that your presentation was very good. I think that the DVD is a good idea. I don't think the tape is a good idea. I thought that you did a good job.
...
I think that it was allright. Just keep it up and keep on talking to kids so they know not to drink and drive. You did great so keep it up. You are awesome. You just keep getting the word out to kids and adults.
...
I think you should keep the audio recording because it is a good way for teens to understand the way the daughter felt about the accident and the impact it had on her life.
...
I think that the video was good because it really made a point, and it got across.
...
I personally think you did a wonderful job. Keep going the way you are and don't change anything within your presentation. Everyone makes mistakes. We're human. It's weird how one mistake can ruin your life. Thank you for your testimony. You have a lot of courage, and I admire you and appreciate that. Stay God strong.
...
In my opinion, I think the presentation was more than okay. I think it takes a lot to mention anything to anybody about what happened. You have a lot of courage to do so. You are most definitely in my prayers. Don't let anyone tell you you are a bad person for that. You have made a mistake. That's part of human nature. You have bettered yourself because of this situation, and I think that is a great thing.
...
It's a great way to open teens' eyes about drunk driving. Keep up the good work.
...
I thought it was very brave of you to come and talk with us today. Your story touched my heart. It must be really hard to come and speak to strangers about something so serious as this, on his birthday, with people judging you. It's very brave, to show other people what you have done wrong, and what you're doing to try to make it better to the best that you can. God is amazing, and the fact that the entire time you've had this going on, you've had him in your heart. I want to thank you for coming in. You did really well.
...
I believe that the video was something that should be showed. It makes the kids realize how much impact on the family and it could be them that could've made the mistake that you did, along with the audio. I understand that everyone makes mistakes, and that yours just so happens to be as tragic as what happened to you and Eddie. It touched me, and made me realize I'll never drink and drive. I believe you did a great job, and you're a very strong person for what you're doing.
...
I believe that the video was very good. The 911 call that you play impacted me and I'm sure the kids around. I have had a close family member pass away for abusing many drugs at a party. Her friends ended up leaving her so she had to call her parents to come get her. They found my 17-year-old cousin dead the next day on her bed because of making one mistake one night by listening to her friends. Your story touched me very much. I think you did a great job. You're one strong girl!
...
Your story is extremely impacting. I have not ever been a fan of alcohol, but now I know I won't mess with it. The presentation was beautiful and heart-touching. The audio and video made it hit home. It made it all very real, and I quickly realized it wasn't just a story, but a real thing. I'm glad you have turned your life around.
...
Trina, I have came from an alcoholic and drug-addicted father, who has loved drinking more than his children. Your presentation showed me the positive side of every situation. I have had a lot of hatred toward my dad for his choices, but now I have learned to love him. I pray that you continue this message with more schools and people to spread the word of this. I hope to see your presentation again because of the truth behind your story.
...
Your story was very touching. One of my best friends had died in a drinking and driving accident. I didn't know what I would do after that but understanding where you are coming from. I think that the video is a good asset to the presentation, although the audio version is what needs to be heard. You're doinga very good job with changing people's lives. Thank you sor sharing your story with us.
...
I think this presentation was very informative. It got me thinking. And I think it will be helpful in making teens understand how dangerous and hurtful drinking and driving can be.
...
I really respected the presentation. I saw you last semester, in October, and it completely changed the way I saw my future. I will not drink and I will surely not drink and drive. Always use the audio and video. It impacted my life in a big way, and I hope it does other kids. I dream of being a singer, and I hpe you achieve your dreams as well.
...
I find it really touching. I have an uncle who is a heavy drinker, and me personally, I do not like any kind of drinking. I really like the video and audio. It helped me realize exactly how bad it can get. I never knew how bad it could get, and I will never again drink in my life. The audio was really touching, and yes, you should use it.
...
It got to me a bit. I know the outcome wasn't good for their family. It is great that you have sobered up. All around, great presentation.
...
I feel that the video was helpful and the audio made me feel like I could begin to feel how Faith felt. I think it is good, so it could help someone not drink and drive. I saw this last semester, and it helped me not to be around someone when they're drinking. Thank you for speaking again.
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I do think the video and the 911 call was both very impactful. I think that showing both is very powerful to both students and adults.
...
I thought it was really upsetting about the family's grief. I was holding back tears. I can't say that what you did was wrong. I can't judge anyone. It really made me stop and think about drinking and driving. I don't have much else to say, but God bless you and your family.
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I think you did very well with your presentation. I think it definitely got a message across to all of the people in this room. I think it was good that you played the audio and showed the video. I also think you were very strong while standing up there speaking. God bless you.
...
I thought it was very informational. The video and audio was a great source but a little disturbing at some points. This especially helped because a similar situation happened to my cousin, but they shocked him back to life a couple times and saved his life.
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Presentation was great. Playing the video and audio made a much larger impact. Got the message across strongly.
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I know you're a changed person. Today when you talked to us about how you killed someone by drinking and driving; it really made me never want to do that..One accident can change your life. But God is with you, and I love you for changing. Thanks for talking to us!
...
Your presentation did touch me and made me think twice about my decisions. I am a binge drinker myself, and have feared that it is turning into a problem. As a parent, I can't imagine going through what the family of the man you hit went through, but also what you went through. I think you should definitely keep the 911 audio. It really gets through to people. But instead of telling people to only listen to God, tell people to make better decisions for themselves. Please keep using the 911 audio.
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I thought it was a good one, but still sad to here it. I think you should keep the audio cause it does make an impact.
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I thought it was a good presentation, and that if it hadn't happened you would not be the person today. Like it's not good that he died, but it's good that you found God, and got clean from drugs because I myself have had a drug problem and it took a lot for me to realize drugs weren't only affecting me, but the people around me.
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It was good. The audio was the most touching part, to hear it happening. It was very informational, and I will never drink and drive. It was a good thing.
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It was a good presentation. I think it makes people really think about what happened. The 911 call was very sad, but I think you should've played it, and play it at all your presentations. It was a really good presentation.
...
The 911 recording was not too much. It was what solidified everything you said and let people's emotions truly flow so that they know what can happen if they did something like this. May God be with you as you tell your story.
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I'm just glad you came in today and talked to us about this. Thank you so much. I now know how bad it is to drink.
...
Just hearing about this story made my life change when she said that is the end of my presentation. It made my outlook about everything, but it's a bad choice. But look at it this way everyone makes mistakes. Not anyone on this earth is perfect. It was just weird hearing her scream for her dad, and another way to look at it is, hey, things always happen for a reason. Maybe God made that night happen because he knew you could change lives with it. Maybe it happened because he wanted you to do this. He wanted you to talk to teenagers because if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have known what it can do to you. Like you said, you practically lost your life and just sitting here thinking you can live life and be happy without it. You can have a very good time. You don't need it for any of these things, and I just want to thank you and I want to thank God for letting you come here and changing my life. I really do appreciate it, and God bless you as well. And hope you don't ever make choices like that ever again.
...
Drinking and driving is worse than just drinking. If you drink period, you can't really focus. To hear your story, it really makes me think about not drinking as much as I want to. My boyfriend is not a drinker, and I don't really like to, but maybe every once in a while, like once every few months. But I'm thankful for him to tell me to stop drinking period because I never want to get into a vehicle while intoxicated. I could accidentally get into a vehicle. I really don't agree with your sentence or why you're not in prison, but you're very lucky, and with your speech, it has left an impact on my life because my father died at the wheel unintoxicated, by an intoxicated man. I'm in the same position as Faith because I seen my father die at the scene of the accident. God bless you and his family!
...
This story has given me a different outlook on drinking or doing any kinds of drugs. I can say that this has changed my look of doing anything. This is very sad. But I can say this has changed my ways of doing things. Yes, you should do this again. I think it will change other kids lives like it will mine. How is it like being away from your kids? Do you see your kids now? How is it going to jail on Father's Day and on Christmas? Like does it make others realize how hard it is for you? Do you have things you had before this happened? You did a great thing showing this.
...
During the whole presentation, I felt so sad. Hearing what she has to say touched my heart and my mind in a way that could never be explained in words. After hearing the impact it had on his daughter, it just broke my heart. I think she should keep the audio and video, so other students can hopefully learn and realize that no one should every drink and drive.
...
This presentation has really changed my outlook on drinking. Not just drinking and driving, but drinking alone. My stepdad drinks every so often. So I do it too sometimes. But I definitely won't be anymore. I did like the audio and video. You should keep using it in your presentation. Thank you for coming and speaking with us. It has definitely changed my perspective about drinking. Thank you, again. I know it takes a lot of nerve to get up there and talk, not knowing what people are going to say or think. So, I do have a lot of respect for you for that.
...
First off, I wanted to say thank you because you have changed the way I think about DUIs and alcoholism. I also wanted to say that I think you are incredibly strong to share your story with people. I know that I will think about how alcohol can affect you. God bless you, and I want you to know that I will keep you in my prayers.
...
I thought she was one of the best speakers that has came and talked to us. Her story was very touching to me, and it honestly broke my heart. If I was her, it wouldn't be that easy for me to talk to kids about what happened. She's a very strong woman, and from now on, I'll look up to her. Her story means a lot to me, and I'll remember that story for the rest of my life. I know it has to be hard for her to live everyday with the fact of knowing what she did, even though she didn't mean to. I really appreciate everything she's said today, and it really put a place in my heart.
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Hearing this story shocked me. To hear how both sides of this story hurt, even the side that caused it. The 911 call was upsetting. The girl's screams and sobs broke my heart. I'm about to be 16. I'll be driving soon, and even though I already know not to drive and drink, I will be the person to take someone's keys. I pray for the family and the victim. Use the video and audio. It really helps the story.
...
What I think about her presentation is a lot. My whole entire Dad's side of the family has at least killed two people. So honestly, I know how it feels. My real dad's side is all gang members. They drink and do drugs. So now, I really don't know. I don't know how to feel.
...
I feel like it was a very sad thing what happened. It has made me realize that little things can change something in a second. Drinking and driving is an awful thing. I have drank before but hearing you talk and tell us what happened has made me really stop and think about things. It is great that you stopped using drugs and drinking alcohol. Yes, you made a mistake, and we all make mistakes. You found God and are trying to make peace. You are right, if this never would have happened, you would probably still be drinking and doing drugs today. It's wonderful that you encourage others not to drink and drive, and that you are trying to make peace.
...
The story that this lady told me had a big impact on my life. Everything she said to me meant something that drinking is bad, and it could take someone's life. Having to live on that kind of impact tears my heart into a million pieces. I will do my best not to overrun what was said. Because if I have ever went down like that, I don't think I could live with myself.
...
This is the second time I've heard you about this. And I believe that you have done a better job this time than when I heard you on the anniversary in October 2011. I believe this is a great/wonderful thing that you are doing, and the fact that you are doing it without community service is astonishing. I find it wonderful, beyond wonderful that you have chosen to find God and let him help you through this. I believe with the help of our savior, you can get through anything. Just have faith and hope because I have hope and faith in you.
...
I felt like it was an inspiring story because it shows what alcohol really does to you. It does horrible things, especially when you get behind the wheel o f a car. I know people that has been drunk and drove, but never wrecked. But it changes your mind about alcohol and things that can happen when you are under the influence.
...
I felt like her story teaches me to not drink and drive. It teaches me the signs on when to stop and call a friend to pick me up. It tells people that it is a very serious thing to worry about.
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
It occurred to me over the weekend that I focused too much on the negative responses - a few of the 60 or so I received - in my last post.
Overall, the Portland High School students really seemed to get it.
My message is simple: It's not OK to drink and drive under any circumstances.
I know this because I am responsible for Eddy McCreery's death. He died because I took Xanax, drank wine and got behind the wheel of a car.
I'm not proud of that fact, but I know this: I will work as hard as I can to tell as many students as possible what happened. My hope is to spare them and potential victims and their families everywhere the pain that I have to live with the rest of my life, a pain the McCreerys have to live with daily.
Naysayers may question my motives, my methods and even my words to gauge my sincerity. But you don't have to listen to me.
Listen to the kids that were there. One thing I did ask them was whether I should continue to make the WSMV footage of my arrest and subsequent news stories and the audio of the 911 call that night a part of my presentation.
Here's what some of the students had to say:
...
I think it was great that you still come to schools and hospitals to talk about your story. I'm so sorry that you had to go through with all of that. The video and tape was very effective, and that you should keep showing it to students and families. I'm really glad that you found God, and that you are now clean and sober.
...
The presentation was very informative, and I am very thankful that you came and spoke to us and made this strive to make it known what the consequences. The video and phone call were very heartbreaking, and I'm very sorry you have to live with the pain.
...
- 911 call helped me visualize how bad the accident was.
- Program was Really good.
I thought it was overall a good/effective presentation.
...
The presentation was good. I believe that whoever you tell this to will surely change their mind. I don't think you need to change your presentation. It is good as it is. This is what it takes to get it through people's heads. So don't change what you're doing.
...
I think your presentation was very touching, and it made me think about my choices. The 911 call is a good thing to use to get people's attention. I appreciate what you are doing. Thank you. I am a parent, so I feel for you, your mother and the family. I can't imagine anybody going through that.
...
I believe the presentation went really well. It was informative, and although I do not drink and do not have any intention of doing so, it definitely changed my view of drinking and driving. The 911 call was a bit graphic. I wouldn't use it for any classes under our age group, but it was a great tool for classes our age. I appreciate your being willing to speak in front of classes. I know that it must be hard for you, but it can definitely change people's lives, as I'm sure you've probably already changed several.
...
I thought the presentation was very important, as well as influencial. I hope that your dreams of becoming a journalist fulfill you, and I hope that your pain doesn't overwhelm you from what God has in store for you.
...
I thought this speaking opened up a lot of people's eyes, it had me tearing up. I hope that no one ever drinks and drives. It's also good that you've been saved by God. Everything that happened, it happened for a reason. Keep your head up, and don't lose faith, and live one day at a time. I wish the best for you. I hope that one day the family forgives you.
...
I think that your story is really sad. I can't relate to how you may have felt or feel. I think it takes a big person to admit you've done something wrong, and that you share your story. My prayers go out to you.
...
This presentation was very informative about drunk-driving. The 911 call was very realistic. The video brought the situation to life for me personally. I now will NEVER drink and drive or drink at all. Thank you for coming. It was a really great presentation.
...
It gives me chills to even hear the story. I can't even imagine such a tragedy, all just because of alcohol and one mistake. I feel sorry for you because it was an accident. All because just one day you drank alcohol. You have lost everything in your life. You telling that story changed my whole outlook on alcohol. You are my hero. You are a wonderful person. And I thank you so much.
...
I think your presentation went very well. You showed me that even a little alcohol could make a large impact on your life. I'm an athlete at this school, and that showed me that making one little mistake could take all my dreams away from me. I just want to say thank you for coming to talk to us today. I feel you have changed a bunch of people's views on drinking and driving. Thanks so much and God bless you.
...
I am a non-user of any drugs, but this presentation has made me thankful that people that has been in your situation who has had to have been force by a court order to talk about one mistake, but they continue to talk to children or in our case, teens about your story. It's inspired me to teach other people. I was glad to hear you found a cure to your illness and have been sober for this long. Keep it up. God bless you., and I will keep you and the family in my prayers.
...
This presentation has made me think that some things happen for a reason, even though the things that happen may not affect you. It always affects others. The video and audio definitely should be included in future presentations. Thank you and God bless you.
...
I really loved hearing your story. My mother was arrested for DUI a year ago, and hearing your story will help me talk to her more about drinking and driving. Your story was very helpful. Thank you. It's perfect just the way it is.
...
I think you were brave enough to talk about everything. You're doing really well helping people realize what all went down and how it played out 10 years is a good amount for going around. But I believe you did a great job and not the best way to be punished for a crazy night, but the best way for not remembering I suppose.
...
I thought that your presentation was very good. I think that the DVD is a good idea. I don't think the tape is a good idea. I thought that you did a good job.
...
I think that it was allright. Just keep it up and keep on talking to kids so they know not to drink and drive. You did great so keep it up. You are awesome. You just keep getting the word out to kids and adults.
...
I think you should keep the audio recording because it is a good way for teens to understand the way the daughter felt about the accident and the impact it had on her life.
...
I think that the video was good because it really made a point, and it got across.
...
I personally think you did a wonderful job. Keep going the way you are and don't change anything within your presentation. Everyone makes mistakes. We're human. It's weird how one mistake can ruin your life. Thank you for your testimony. You have a lot of courage, and I admire you and appreciate that. Stay God strong.
...
In my opinion, I think the presentation was more than okay. I think it takes a lot to mention anything to anybody about what happened. You have a lot of courage to do so. You are most definitely in my prayers. Don't let anyone tell you you are a bad person for that. You have made a mistake. That's part of human nature. You have bettered yourself because of this situation, and I think that is a great thing.
...
It's a great way to open teens' eyes about drunk driving. Keep up the good work.
...
I thought it was very brave of you to come and talk with us today. Your story touched my heart. It must be really hard to come and speak to strangers about something so serious as this, on his birthday, with people judging you. It's very brave, to show other people what you have done wrong, and what you're doing to try to make it better to the best that you can. God is amazing, and the fact that the entire time you've had this going on, you've had him in your heart. I want to thank you for coming in. You did really well.
...
I believe that the video was something that should be showed. It makes the kids realize how much impact on the family and it could be them that could've made the mistake that you did, along with the audio. I understand that everyone makes mistakes, and that yours just so happens to be as tragic as what happened to you and Eddie. It touched me, and made me realize I'll never drink and drive. I believe you did a great job, and you're a very strong person for what you're doing.
...
I believe that the video was very good. The 911 call that you play impacted me and I'm sure the kids around. I have had a close family member pass away for abusing many drugs at a party. Her friends ended up leaving her so she had to call her parents to come get her. They found my 17-year-old cousin dead the next day on her bed because of making one mistake one night by listening to her friends. Your story touched me very much. I think you did a great job. You're one strong girl!
...
Your story is extremely impacting. I have not ever been a fan of alcohol, but now I know I won't mess with it. The presentation was beautiful and heart-touching. The audio and video made it hit home. It made it all very real, and I quickly realized it wasn't just a story, but a real thing. I'm glad you have turned your life around.
...
Trina, I have came from an alcoholic and drug-addicted father, who has loved drinking more than his children. Your presentation showed me the positive side of every situation. I have had a lot of hatred toward my dad for his choices, but now I have learned to love him. I pray that you continue this message with more schools and people to spread the word of this. I hope to see your presentation again because of the truth behind your story.
...
Your story was very touching. One of my best friends had died in a drinking and driving accident. I didn't know what I would do after that but understanding where you are coming from. I think that the video is a good asset to the presentation, although the audio version is what needs to be heard. You're doinga very good job with changing people's lives. Thank you sor sharing your story with us.
...
I think this presentation was very informative. It got me thinking. And I think it will be helpful in making teens understand how dangerous and hurtful drinking and driving can be.
...
I really respected the presentation. I saw you last semester, in October, and it completely changed the way I saw my future. I will not drink and I will surely not drink and drive. Always use the audio and video. It impacted my life in a big way, and I hope it does other kids. I dream of being a singer, and I hpe you achieve your dreams as well.
...
I find it really touching. I have an uncle who is a heavy drinker, and me personally, I do not like any kind of drinking. I really like the video and audio. It helped me realize exactly how bad it can get. I never knew how bad it could get, and I will never again drink in my life. The audio was really touching, and yes, you should use it.
...
It got to me a bit. I know the outcome wasn't good for their family. It is great that you have sobered up. All around, great presentation.
...
I feel that the video was helpful and the audio made me feel like I could begin to feel how Faith felt. I think it is good, so it could help someone not drink and drive. I saw this last semester, and it helped me not to be around someone when they're drinking. Thank you for speaking again.
...
I do think the video and the 911 call was both very impactful. I think that showing both is very powerful to both students and adults.
...
I thought it was really upsetting about the family's grief. I was holding back tears. I can't say that what you did was wrong. I can't judge anyone. It really made me stop and think about drinking and driving. I don't have much else to say, but God bless you and your family.
...
I think you did very well with your presentation. I think it definitely got a message across to all of the people in this room. I think it was good that you played the audio and showed the video. I also think you were very strong while standing up there speaking. God bless you.
...
I thought it was very informational. The video and audio was a great source but a little disturbing at some points. This especially helped because a similar situation happened to my cousin, but they shocked him back to life a couple times and saved his life.
...
Presentation was great. Playing the video and audio made a much larger impact. Got the message across strongly.
...
I know you're a changed person. Today when you talked to us about how you killed someone by drinking and driving; it really made me never want to do that..One accident can change your life. But God is with you, and I love you for changing. Thanks for talking to us!
...
Your presentation did touch me and made me think twice about my decisions. I am a binge drinker myself, and have feared that it is turning into a problem. As a parent, I can't imagine going through what the family of the man you hit went through, but also what you went through. I think you should definitely keep the 911 audio. It really gets through to people. But instead of telling people to only listen to God, tell people to make better decisions for themselves. Please keep using the 911 audio.
...
I thought it was a good one, but still sad to here it. I think you should keep the audio cause it does make an impact.
...
I thought it was a good presentation, and that if it hadn't happened you would not be the person today. Like it's not good that he died, but it's good that you found God, and got clean from drugs because I myself have had a drug problem and it took a lot for me to realize drugs weren't only affecting me, but the people around me.
...
It was good. The audio was the most touching part, to hear it happening. It was very informational, and I will never drink and drive. It was a good thing.
...
It was a good presentation. I think it makes people really think about what happened. The 911 call was very sad, but I think you should've played it, and play it at all your presentations. It was a really good presentation.
...
The 911 recording was not too much. It was what solidified everything you said and let people's emotions truly flow so that they know what can happen if they did something like this. May God be with you as you tell your story.
...
I'm just glad you came in today and talked to us about this. Thank you so much. I now know how bad it is to drink.
...
Just hearing about this story made my life change when she said that is the end of my presentation. It made my outlook about everything, but it's a bad choice. But look at it this way everyone makes mistakes. Not anyone on this earth is perfect. It was just weird hearing her scream for her dad, and another way to look at it is, hey, things always happen for a reason. Maybe God made that night happen because he knew you could change lives with it. Maybe it happened because he wanted you to do this. He wanted you to talk to teenagers because if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have known what it can do to you. Like you said, you practically lost your life and just sitting here thinking you can live life and be happy without it. You can have a very good time. You don't need it for any of these things, and I just want to thank you and I want to thank God for letting you come here and changing my life. I really do appreciate it, and God bless you as well. And hope you don't ever make choices like that ever again.
...
Drinking and driving is worse than just drinking. If you drink period, you can't really focus. To hear your story, it really makes me think about not drinking as much as I want to. My boyfriend is not a drinker, and I don't really like to, but maybe every once in a while, like once every few months. But I'm thankful for him to tell me to stop drinking period because I never want to get into a vehicle while intoxicated. I could accidentally get into a vehicle. I really don't agree with your sentence or why you're not in prison, but you're very lucky, and with your speech, it has left an impact on my life because my father died at the wheel unintoxicated, by an intoxicated man. I'm in the same position as Faith because I seen my father die at the scene of the accident. God bless you and his family!
...
This story has given me a different outlook on drinking or doing any kinds of drugs. I can say that this has changed my look of doing anything. This is very sad. But I can say this has changed my ways of doing things. Yes, you should do this again. I think it will change other kids lives like it will mine. How is it like being away from your kids? Do you see your kids now? How is it going to jail on Father's Day and on Christmas? Like does it make others realize how hard it is for you? Do you have things you had before this happened? You did a great thing showing this.
...
During the whole presentation, I felt so sad. Hearing what she has to say touched my heart and my mind in a way that could never be explained in words. After hearing the impact it had on his daughter, it just broke my heart. I think she should keep the audio and video, so other students can hopefully learn and realize that no one should every drink and drive.
...
This presentation has really changed my outlook on drinking. Not just drinking and driving, but drinking alone. My stepdad drinks every so often. So I do it too sometimes. But I definitely won't be anymore. I did like the audio and video. You should keep using it in your presentation. Thank you for coming and speaking with us. It has definitely changed my perspective about drinking. Thank you, again. I know it takes a lot of nerve to get up there and talk, not knowing what people are going to say or think. So, I do have a lot of respect for you for that.
...
First off, I wanted to say thank you because you have changed the way I think about DUIs and alcoholism. I also wanted to say that I think you are incredibly strong to share your story with people. I know that I will think about how alcohol can affect you. God bless you, and I want you to know that I will keep you in my prayers.
...
I thought she was one of the best speakers that has came and talked to us. Her story was very touching to me, and it honestly broke my heart. If I was her, it wouldn't be that easy for me to talk to kids about what happened. She's a very strong woman, and from now on, I'll look up to her. Her story means a lot to me, and I'll remember that story for the rest of my life. I know it has to be hard for her to live everyday with the fact of knowing what she did, even though she didn't mean to. I really appreciate everything she's said today, and it really put a place in my heart.
...
Hearing this story shocked me. To hear how both sides of this story hurt, even the side that caused it. The 911 call was upsetting. The girl's screams and sobs broke my heart. I'm about to be 16. I'll be driving soon, and even though I already know not to drive and drink, I will be the person to take someone's keys. I pray for the family and the victim. Use the video and audio. It really helps the story.
...
What I think about her presentation is a lot. My whole entire Dad's side of the family has at least killed two people. So honestly, I know how it feels. My real dad's side is all gang members. They drink and do drugs. So now, I really don't know. I don't know how to feel.
...
I feel like it was a very sad thing what happened. It has made me realize that little things can change something in a second. Drinking and driving is an awful thing. I have drank before but hearing you talk and tell us what happened has made me really stop and think about things. It is great that you stopped using drugs and drinking alcohol. Yes, you made a mistake, and we all make mistakes. You found God and are trying to make peace. You are right, if this never would have happened, you would probably still be drinking and doing drugs today. It's wonderful that you encourage others not to drink and drive, and that you are trying to make peace.
...
The story that this lady told me had a big impact on my life. Everything she said to me meant something that drinking is bad, and it could take someone's life. Having to live on that kind of impact tears my heart into a million pieces. I will do my best not to overrun what was said. Because if I have ever went down like that, I don't think I could live with myself.
...
This is the second time I've heard you about this. And I believe that you have done a better job this time than when I heard you on the anniversary in October 2011. I believe this is a great/wonderful thing that you are doing, and the fact that you are doing it without community service is astonishing. I find it wonderful, beyond wonderful that you have chosen to find God and let him help you through this. I believe with the help of our savior, you can get through anything. Just have faith and hope because I have hope and faith in you.
...
I felt like it was an inspiring story because it shows what alcohol really does to you. It does horrible things, especially when you get behind the wheel o f a car. I know people that has been drunk and drove, but never wrecked. But it changes your mind about alcohol and things that can happen when you are under the influence.
...
I felt like her story teaches me to not drink and drive. It teaches me the signs on when to stop and call a friend to pick me up. It tells people that it is a very serious thing to worry about.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Speech at Portland High School
One Woman's Journey After Vehicular Homicide
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
I spoke to four blocks of classes at Portland High School today about causing the drunk-driving accident Oct. 22, 2009 that resulted in Eddy McCreery's death.
It's never an easy experience for me. None of this is. Not living this life, admitting my fatal mistake, dealing with the painful consequences for my family and for the McCreery family.
But I do this, partly, yes, because I am court-ordered to speak on Feb. 10 and Oct. 22, McCreery's birthday and the day he died.
But mostly I speak because of the MESSAGE these speaking engagements involve: Don't drink and drive under any circumstances.
I'm not there to make friends or enemies for that matter. I'm not there to try to duck any kind of responsibility I feel for the crime. I'm not there to make the students feel sorry for me.
My calling is to make them think about what can happen and what did happen to me if you drink and drive.
That's the only reason.
I have about 60 responses of feedback from the kids. Most of it was positive. There was a handful that was negative. For some reason, those comments always stick with me more. Call it the devil in the details.
Some didn't like that I used notes to speak. Others thought I didn't show enough emotion or have enough eye contact. One even accused me of exploiting the family's pain.
A teacher not mentioned in this blog even went as far as to say it didn't seem like I was accepting responsibility, and implied my speeches might mistakenly make the kids feel sorry for me. He was conversely complimentary in the same speech, and even applauded me. Needless to say, I was confused.
I can't please everybody, and I'm not going to try.
What I am going to do is keep on knocking on doors at local school districts and asking if they will let me in, give me a venue, a way to reach these kids.
I am hoping the story WSMV-TV Channel 4 aired today will help me in that quest.
It was the first time in my life I have been on the other end of an interview, but I think I did OK. I wasn't as nervous as I thought I would be.
Again, it's about the message. It's about making Eddy McCreery's death mean something, keeping his memory alive, turning a negative event into a positive, one day at a time.
Thank you Portland High School, especially Mr. Gideon, Mrs. McNeil and Mrs. Griffin for opening your doors to me and giving me a way to hopefully impact these students' lives in such a way that if they are ever in the position to make a decision whether to drink and drive or to ride with someone who has indulged in alcohol or drugs, that they will make the right decision.
I want to especially thank Jeremy Johnson and Nancy Morris, of Sumner County Schools, for their roles in facilitating the speeches today.
And thank you momma, Vicky C. and Jennifer Easton for being there to support me in an endeavor that is always tough, but always worth it.
Mom: your support never ceases to amaze me. Vicky: you have shown me love in so many ways. Know that I am here for you, too. You are my family.
Jennifer, thank you for being there, too. Your presence was like a bridge between the past and the present, reminding me of the journalist I used to be, in my dream job, and of the friendships I still have at The Gallatin News Examiner. I miss you, Dessie, and you, too, Sarah, and hope we can see each other again really soon.
Finally, this day would be incomplete without the following thank you.
Thank you, Eddy McCreery, for giving my life purpose, for my sobriety, and for keeping me humble, one day at a time.
Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody.
That's exactly what happened to me.
Two years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were
some way I could go back and change it, I would.
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.
I spoke to four blocks of classes at Portland High School today about causing the drunk-driving accident Oct. 22, 2009 that resulted in Eddy McCreery's death.
It's never an easy experience for me. None of this is. Not living this life, admitting my fatal mistake, dealing with the painful consequences for my family and for the McCreery family.
But I do this, partly, yes, because I am court-ordered to speak on Feb. 10 and Oct. 22, McCreery's birthday and the day he died.
But mostly I speak because of the MESSAGE these speaking engagements involve: Don't drink and drive under any circumstances.
I'm not there to make friends or enemies for that matter. I'm not there to try to duck any kind of responsibility I feel for the crime. I'm not there to make the students feel sorry for me.
My calling is to make them think about what can happen and what did happen to me if you drink and drive.
That's the only reason.
I have about 60 responses of feedback from the kids. Most of it was positive. There was a handful that was negative. For some reason, those comments always stick with me more. Call it the devil in the details.
Some didn't like that I used notes to speak. Others thought I didn't show enough emotion or have enough eye contact. One even accused me of exploiting the family's pain.
A teacher not mentioned in this blog even went as far as to say it didn't seem like I was accepting responsibility, and implied my speeches might mistakenly make the kids feel sorry for me. He was conversely complimentary in the same speech, and even applauded me. Needless to say, I was confused.
I can't please everybody, and I'm not going to try.
What I am going to do is keep on knocking on doors at local school districts and asking if they will let me in, give me a venue, a way to reach these kids.
I am hoping the story WSMV-TV Channel 4 aired today will help me in that quest.
It was the first time in my life I have been on the other end of an interview, but I think I did OK. I wasn't as nervous as I thought I would be.
Again, it's about the message. It's about making Eddy McCreery's death mean something, keeping his memory alive, turning a negative event into a positive, one day at a time.
Thank you Portland High School, especially Mr. Gideon, Mrs. McNeil and Mrs. Griffin for opening your doors to me and giving me a way to hopefully impact these students' lives in such a way that if they are ever in the position to make a decision whether to drink and drive or to ride with someone who has indulged in alcohol or drugs, that they will make the right decision.
I want to especially thank Jeremy Johnson and Nancy Morris, of Sumner County Schools, for their roles in facilitating the speeches today.
And thank you momma, Vicky C. and Jennifer Easton for being there to support me in an endeavor that is always tough, but always worth it.
Mom: your support never ceases to amaze me. Vicky: you have shown me love in so many ways. Know that I am here for you, too. You are my family.
Jennifer, thank you for being there, too. Your presence was like a bridge between the past and the present, reminding me of the journalist I used to be, in my dream job, and of the friendships I still have at The Gallatin News Examiner. I miss you, Dessie, and you, too, Sarah, and hope we can see each other again really soon.
Finally, this day would be incomplete without the following thank you.
Thank you, Eddy McCreery, for giving my life purpose, for my sobriety, and for keeping me humble, one day at a time.
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