Grief and Hope

I spoke with Mom at lunchtime. They were stopping at Subway for lunch about the same time we were heading out of town. I don’t remember what all we said. We were just confirming our plans. That was the last time I heard from them, the last time I heard my mother’s voice.

It had to have been around 2:50-2:55 when we stopped for a snack and restroom break at a gas station near the roundabout on the highway in Florence, Kansas. We were running a little behind, which wasn't unusual for us. I had not been able to get in touch with Mom, not too surprising since we were out in the middle of nowhere. My daughter Renee was driving, trying to get more driving hours logged in preparation for her license. When we arrived at the intersection a little after 3:30, I had Renee pull into a parking lot to let me drive so we could look for a convenient place to meet up with my parents. It was a bit odd that Mom and Dad were late. They were almost never late and would let us know anytime they were going to be even a few minutes behind schedule. I headed east on Highway 400 and quickly found a gas station where we could wait. We waited.

After waiting a few more minutes, I called my sister. “Hey Jen, have you heard from Mom? I asked. “We were supposed to meet at 3:30, but I haven’t been able to reach them.”

“They’re late?” she questioned, immediately understanding the significance of my concern.

“Maybe they are out of range,” I responded, “we are kind of out in the country.”

“Did you try Dad’s cell?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see if I can reach Julie,” Jenni told me. “I’ll call you back.”

“Okay,” I hesitated.

We had already tried calling all four of their cell phones but had reached no one. When we tried to track Elaine's phone it said, ‘unable to locate.’

At 4:00, I started heading east on Highway 400.

“I don't know how far to go,” I told Jonathan, “but we can at least drive until we reach a major intersection.”

We were carefully watching the passing cars, looking for my parent’s maroon SUV and frequently checking with Jenni. A helicopter flew over us, but we thought nothing of it at that time. Jenni had been at her church (where Mom and Dad attended as well) preparing for Vacation Bible School. Recognizing this situation was likely serious, she and her husband Jeff decided to leave Oklahoma City and head towards Wichita. I continued driving east. Less than a half hour later, we saw flashing lights ahead.

Oh God, no! I remember thinking when I saw the flashing lights in the distance ahead. Traffic was at a stand-still, and it was going to be awhile before we got close enough to see anything. We continued to try calling all their cell phones, hoping they were simply stuck in traffic on the other side of the accident and didn’t have reception. I was as optimistic as I could be. It was possible that they were just unable to get past this accident since the entire road was blocked. But slowly the realization came that if we had phone reception, the cars backed up in the other direction likely did too.

Highway 400 is a two-lane, undivided highway and all traffic was being turned around. With a significant number of semi-trucks needing help turning, it took quite a while. Another twenty minutes or more passed before we got to where the state trooper was turning people around. It was a long twenty minutes full of wondering… and hoping. We couldn’t see the accident ahead. They had closed the road about a half mile away from the scene to divert traffic. When the trooper motioned for me to turn around, I rolled down my window…

“My parents, daughter and niece were supposed to meet us but didn’t show up. I need to make sure that they weren’t involved in that accident,” I said.

He asked me basic information about the type of car, number of people, etc., then had me pull over and wait while he went to use his car radio. I don’t know how long this took. The time went by so slowly.

When he came back to the car, he said, “We aren’t sure ma’am, could you come with me?”

“Do you want me to go?” Jonathan asked.

“No, I need to,” I replied. “You stay with the kids.”

In retrospect, I do not know which would have been harder, going or waiting, but I had waited as long as I could handle. The trooper had me get in his car and he drove closer to the accident.

It is around 5:00 p.m. now. My memories of this part are very clear, and the feelings were so strange. The trooper offered me a bottle of water. I remember that I felt thirstier than I had ever felt before, so I accepted the water. Then I waited some more; I don’t know how long. Everything was in slow motion. Inside the car, I was positioned where I couldn’t see much of the accident. When I got out of the car, there were 6 troopers walking toward me in a side-by-side line. It was a hot summer day, and I could see the haziness of heat waves rising from the road behind them, resembling a scene in a movie. Reality was pressing on me. I knew the situation was horrible. My first and only thought…
Please let somebody be alive!