March 28th

These experiences are told by Dad

The day of March 28^th started like any other for us.  We arose at 6:30AM to get ready for work and to rouse Matthew from his sleep.  Although he was off school for Easter Break, he and his best friend Greg decided they were going to spend the day at Twin Rinks playing shinny hockey.  We got ready and headed out the door with me dropping Desma off to work, picking Greg up at his house and dropping both boys at the doors of Twin Rinks where they awaited the rink’s open.  This was the last time I saw Matthew alive – hockey stick in hand and a smile from ear-to-ear as he waved goodbye to me as I continued on to work.

I am thankful that this was my last vision of him alive – happy and doing what he loved the most with the best friend a kid his age could have ever had.  That day Matthew and Greg played shinny until about 1:30pm when the rink attendants told them they had to get off since another client had rented the ice.  They got changed and Greg’s mom picked them up and drove them to Greg’s house.  Later that afternoon, Poppy Brett picked Desma up at work and Matthew and Greg from Greg’s house and all of them returned to our house on Bauline Line.

This day was also special to me since I was participating in the Midget “A” Provincial Tournament being held in Mount Pearl as assistant coach and trainer to the Caps Midget “A” All-Star team.  Although Matthew was not a member of this team, he was proud that I was coaching at the all-star level. My team was comprised of a group of good kids - all fantastic hockey players who had a chance to win the Provincial title.  We lost our first game that day but won our second game in the early evening.  Immediately following this game, our team attended the opening ceremonies and once completed, I left for home.

As I was readying to leave the parking lot of the Glacier, joyful that we had won our second game, I called home to see if I needed to pick-up anything.  Desma answered the phone and said she never needed anything and was wondering what time I would be home because Matthew was going to walk down to his friend’s house.  I said I would be home in about 25 minutes and would give him a drive then, but he said he would rather walk instead of waiting. I said good-bye to Desma and with that I left the parking lot and began my drive home.

After my call to home, Desma was busy preparing supper for me since I was late due to the hockey game I just finished.  Matthew and Greg had already eaten (meatballs, gravy and fries – their favourite) and were getting ready to leave to walk down Bauline Line to meet-up with some other friends.  They were all so excited since this was the first day of their Easter Break and they were all aware of the hard weeks ahead of them leading into exams when they returned to school.  Desma insisted that she drive them since Poppy Brett’s car was parked in our driveway.  Matthew said no, he would rather walk since it was a nice night and that they liked to walk anyway – I guess a bit of the independence of a boy this age.  Once again Desma said that she would drive him or he could wait for me since I would be soon.  She said, “You don’t know who is driving”, but Matthew just said, “Don’t be worrying Mom, don’t be so foolish”.  As he and Greg were walking up the driveway, Desma called and said to him, “One of these days you’ll be saying the same thing to your kids!”  This was her last words to him as he smiled back and waved goodbye.

About 10 to 15 minutes after Matthew had left our house, as I crested the top of the hill on Bauline Line and the road stretched before me, I saw a cluster of emergency vehicles with lights flashing about 500m ahead.  My stomach instantly knotted and I knew deep down that something had happened to Matthew long before I even arrived at the scene, which was still over 500m away.

As I slowed to a stop in the line of traffic, I waited for one of the volunteer firemen to come to my vehicle to let me know what was happening – just as he did with each of the vehicles in front of me.  While we were speaking, my cell phone rang and Desma’s panic stricken voice informed me that Matthew was hit by a car.  I immediately jumped from my vehicle and tried to run up the road but was stopped by several firemen and a police officer.  Prior to me arriving at the scene, Desma had received a frantic call from Brendan, one of Matthew's friends, who informed her to "Come quick! Matthew has been hit by a car". She left the house probably around the same time I saw the flashing lights in the distance.  As a result, Desma was on one side of the accident scene and I was on the other and we were unable to meet. From my where I stood, I could see several paramedics performing CPR on Matthew and I knew that he was no longer of this world.  I went numb, began to cry and pleaded with the emergency officials to let me go to him, which they would not.  Friend Darrell Butler arrived just as they were loading Matthew’s prone body aboard the ambulance and I finally met with Desma and her Dad Brett.  Darrell offered to drive us to the Janeway following behind the ambulance and tried to reassure us the whole way that Matthew was young and strong and that he would be OK.  Hoping beyond hope, we kept saying it was only some broken bones or maybe he was knocked unconscious but he would be OK.  Although I would not admit it to my wife or father-in-law, I knew in my heart Matthew was gone.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were ushered to a clinical room and began to meet the steady stream of immediate family.  An ER doctor, Lydia Hatcher finally came to talk to us and told us that Matthew was seriously injured and that they were doing everything they could for him.  The nurses moved us to a secluded waiting room and once again Doctor Hatcher came to see us.  She informed us that they had now inserted a breathing tube and were still working on Matthew.  Desma was pleading with Dr. Hatcher to tell the other doctors to try harder, try harder.  By this time our entire families were there with us – grandparents Bernice and Alf Churchill, Brett Pugh and Helena Turner; uncle Dann Pugh with wife Nancy, Aunt Lynette Churchill with Shawn Park, Aunt Daina Squires with Ron;  Darrell Butler; and clergy Ian March-MacCuish, Ed Bonnell, Florence Sanna and John Courage.  Little did we know at the time, but there were over 20 of Matthew’s friends waiting for some news in one of the other lobbies.

About 20 minutes later, Dr. Hatcher once again came to us and I could see it in her eyes that her news was dire.  She came to Desma and me with tears running down her cheeks and told us that despite all their efforts, Matthew never pulled through.  The room spun, everyone started screaming and crying and Desma collapsed.  The jolt of adrenaline, at least I think that’s what it was, coursed through my body just as if a lightning bolt had hit me.  Everything around me was phased out until the only thing I felt was my own indescribable grief and sorrow. Everything seemed so unreal – it was as if we were not in our own bodies and we were observing the whole chaotic scene from somewhere else.  This we now realize was the traumatic effects of shock.

Once again we were moved to a private clinical wardroom because of Desma’s collapse and dangerously elevated blood pressure.  Desma was closely monitored over the next two hours and clergy was constantly with us to help us with our unspeakable anguish.  About an hour after Matthew was pronounced dead, I asked the nurse if I could see him.  They took me, and my sister Lynette, to the treatment room where he still lay on the stretcher.  I have never felt so much despair in my life seeing my only child lying dead in front of me with the evidence of the accident so obvious.  I wanted, and needed to hold and cradle him in my arms but was not allowed by the RNC officers present since his body was now considered part of the crime scene. To this day, my heart still breaks knowing I never got a chance to hold him that fateful night.

After Matthew’s passing, our sisters had to make the phone calls to our families and employers – something we were incapable of doing.

We also approached the doctors about the possibility of Matthew being a potential organ donor in hopes of helping another person.  Unfortunately, Matthew's heart had been stopped too long and therefore the organs would not have been suitable for donation.

Before our family finally convinced us to leave the hospital and go to my in-law’s for the night (which turned into a full week since staying at our house was just too painful), I asked to see Matthew one last time.  Once again I was advised against holding him and had to console myself with merely touching his leg.  My grief ebbed out in long, mournful wails and sobs as I did during my first visit and finally after 15 minutes, I had to surrender the body of my son, my only child, my one creation I was proudest of than anything else in my 37 years, to the RNC and the Medical Examiner.

We spent the rest of the night in absolute and utter despair holding each other and crying like we have never done before.  The most important part of our lives was no more and the thoughts of living without him just made no sense to us and we wanted to join him in death.  However, we did something that we have did everyday since, get out of bed and try to deal with the fact that we were childless parents.

Please click here to go to the continuation of this story - Life Without Matthew....by Dad

There is one thing I can say about this whole horrendous experience – both his mom and me no longer fear death since Matthew will be waiting for us when our time comes.