“I need to speak with Cody Smith’s mother or father, is that you?” the lady on the other end of the line asked me. I expalined that I was his sister and gave her my mom’s cell phone number. I never would have known that that phone call would be the thing that let my family know that our lives had changed forever. I was in eighth grade at the time and it was the Monday after Easter. Everyone was to return to school the following Tuesday, unfortunately one Holmen High School Sophomore did not. My brother, Cody had just gotten his license early in the year so he was a new driver. That Monday before he left the house he told me he was going into work early and I believed him. Instead he went to go pick up his friend Conor McLaughlin who lived down the road from us. Cody wanted to go for a drive before Conor had to leave for his track practice that afternoon. So they drove through the country and turned around at the bottom of a hill. They started heading back towards home and when my brother hit the top of the hill his car hit gravel and started to spin out of control. The car spun to the other side of the road, went down a steep ditch where the front passenger half of the vehicle slammed into a tree. The front half of the car was ripped off and Conor was killed when the car connected with the tree. There was a house right across from where the crash happened and the people living there called 911 immediately.
Conor and his best friend Kyle rode the bus with my brother and I for about five years. We all got to know each other really well. Conor and my families knew each other and were friends. Conor was just two weeks short of his sixteenth birthday when he died. He was known around Holmen High School for being friendly with everyone. Conor was known for having a permanent smile on his face and a warm heart. He would help out with the Special Education students and was a great athlete. The week before he died he had placed second at the track meet. He ran the two-hundred meter dash and got a time of 23.08. That time and those seconds will stay in my mind forever.
My parents got the call that their son had gotten into a car crash and they were asked if they knew who was with him. My parents immediately thought it was me and that I was dead because they were unsure of who the person was. They quickly raced to the scene of the accident just when the first ambulance was leaving with my brother inside. A woman police officer tackled my mom to the ground as soon as she tried to get out of her car. My dad got passed the other officers and saw Conor dead in the car. My parents were thankful that I was alive but devastated that it truly was Conor who had been killed. My parents then had to leave the scene to go see my brother who was just getting to the hospital. My grandparents came to pick me up from the house and they told me that it was Conor who was with Cody and they said that they were both okay. Of course I believed them. I was taken to my grandparent’s house and was eventually told that Conor had died in the crash. I didn’t even know how to react to the shocking news. Conor and I had been friends for many years and had always ridden the bus together after school. I didn’t want to believe that it had happened. How could my brother have killed someone? I was extremely angry and hated him.
The next few days I spent in the hospital were a blur to me. So many of my brother and Conor’s classmates stopped by. That was the hardest part, seeing everyone who loved Conor heartbroken by the loss. The funeral was impossibly hard for my parents and I. Cody didn’t go because he was still in critical condition at the hospital. I didn’t want to be seen in public and be known as “the sister of the boy who killed Conor McLaughlin.” Both mine and Conor’s families were friends, and it was all I could do not to curl up in a ball and cry when his parents and older brother came in to hug me. I still remember looking down at Conor and wishing it was me instead. I wanted to take away all of the sadness and pain that everyone was feeling. Watching Conor's best friend, Kyle walk up to the front of the church to give his speech was unbearably hard. The service was emotional and after it was over, going home made us all feel miserable. Now that the funeral was done, what were we supposed to do? There was nothing left that we could do except to cry. Were we supposed to just pick up our lives and continue where they were left off?
For the longest time, I refused to let myself be happy. I felt like it wasn't fair for me to feel happiness. Conor was dead, Kyle lost his best friend, Emily lost her boyfriend, his parents lost their son, and Holmen lost an amazing person. There is still a part of me that blames myself for the accident. I wish so bad that I would have stopped Cody from leaving the house that day.
I still feel sensitive and get emotional when people bring up the subject of Conor. It will be five years next year since Conor died, yet I still remember April 17th, 2006 as if it were yesterday. I know that God took him for a reason, and I definitely was taught that life is precious. Conor had a Myspace at the time of his death and his display name was "It's Not What You Take, It's What You Leave Behind." Wow, those words will stay with me for the rest of my life. I've learned to appreciate everything and everyone around me, because you never know how long that happiness is going to last. Life is so fragile, and I will never let the memory of Conor Rylan McLaughlin die.
