Wednesday, February 27, 2013

As fate would have it, they got done at the doctor's office sooner than expected. Curtis was always in a hurry to get out of there after he had gotten his shots. He was supposed to wait 20 minutes for the nurse to check him to make certain he was not having an allergic reaction to the shots, but he always wanted to shorten the time. "Come on!" he'd shout. "I'm all right. Nothing's going to happen. Let's get outta here!" They got back home so early that day that Curtis had time to eat, change and rush out the door to catch a ride to the game with the neighbors. I was studying material for a test I was to take on the upcoming Saturday, when I heard Curtis leaving. I started to get up to see him off, but he was in a hurry to catch his ride, and I was trying to make sense of the material I was studying. "Catch you later, Dad. I'll tell you all about the game when I get home. I'll call if we need you to pick us up". Those would prove to be the last words I would ever hear my son say. I would come to regret not getting up to hug Curtis goodbye. I'd never get another chance. My life was about to be forever changed.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Our boys were both members of the band program at the high school, and on this particular day the band was to visit the local junior high schools to recruit members for the next year. We found out later from some of the other band students that Curtis had had a very fun day, laughing and joking his way   through the tour of the junior highs. My wife picked up the boys after school that day because Curtis had an appointment at the doctor's to get his allergy shots. Curtis had also made plans to attend a basketball playoff game at the high school that evening. He asked his mom if he could go. At first, she said no because it was a school night, but when Curtis reminded her that there was no school the next day due to Lincoln's birthday holiday, she told him she thought it would be all right to go. They discussed who else was going and how they would get to the game. Curtis said that the neighbors would drive them to the game, but that we might have to take him if he didn't get out of the doctor's office in time to go with them, and that we would probably have to pick them up after the game.

Saturday, February 23, 2013


   February 15, 2001, began as an ordinary day. I went to my job as a schoolteacher, kissing everyone goodbye and wishing them a good day before I left. My wife, Corrine, and my daughter, Carly, who was 10 years old, would soon be leaving as well for the school where my wife was a teacher and my daughter a fifth grader. My sons, Casey, who was a 16-year old high school junior, and Curtis, who was a freshman at the high school, would be heading to a neighbor's house to meet their ride to school. It was like any other morning. I always felt a slight bit of apprehension when the boys left for school. The neighbor who gave them a ride to school was a good, careful driver, but he was also a teenager. But there was no way for my wife or I to drop them off every morning, and we didn't want them hanging out waiting for a bus, so this seemed like a reasonable solution.