When I was in high school, I had the oppurtunity to participate in a program called Every 15 Minutes. Every 15 Minutes, a student dies from an alcohol related accident.

At the time that I signed up, I didn’t really feel connected to the message. I was young and invincible. Alcohol? That stuff was gross, and I was never going to drink it.

But an excuse to skip class for a day, go on a little retreat, and have a little fun? Yes please!

Little did I know that a few days later, I would be standing in front of an audience, bawling my eyes out.

The program seemed simple enough.

I wouldn’t go to class as usual. Instead, a cop would show up and announce that I was killed in an auto accident due to a drunk driver.

Then they would place a rose on my desk.

Later, the school went to the track to see us dressed in black and putting on a skit. There was a crashed car, people played dead, and even a helicopter landed at the school.

Easy stuff right?

After our skit was completed, we went to a resort and just hung out. There was food, drinks, and karoake. If I remember correctly, I sang AC DC.

We were having a good time because it was fun.

Then it got serious.

The organizers gathered us around for breakout sessions.

We heard stories about alcohol related accidents and had several discussions.

At the end, they asked us to write a letter to a family member — as if we had died.

No problem. It’s a fake letter. I’ll just add a little “hey I’m sorry. Don’t forget that I love you” and be done.

But one of the ladies asked us to pause, and to think of the most important thing or person to me. My first thought was of Hunter, my kid brother.

Next, they gave us some things to think about while writing.

After softening us up, they calmly announced “now write”.

I’ll admit, I teared up while writing this letter. The thought of my little brother hearing about my death, and him growing up without me around, it just tore me up. But I finished it.

“Here, take it. Do what you will with it”

Now, I can’t recall if they told us beforehand that the most powerful letters would be read to the school, or if it was sprung on us afterwards. In any case, my letter was chosen.

Just perfect…

I contacted my mom and asked if she would come to school the next day. Maybe even bring Hunter. To which she agreed to do.