As I mentioned in my opening post, there are quite a few of you who are reading this blog that are aware of my story – some who know more details than others. However, there are more of you that do not. I realized that if anyone is going to take anything of value from this blog, you will all need to understand how this started – who I was before the accident, how the accident happened, and my thoughts and feelings towards the matter. Only with full disclosure will I be able to help people learn the lessons I have learned from this most horrible of mistakes.

The 2006-2007 school year was my third year of college, and the first time in my life that I was living on my own. I was a full-time student at Richard Stockton University outside of Atlantic City, New Jersey. I lived in a small apartment on campus with my best friend and two others. Academics always came easy for me, even from a young age. So I never really put forth any effort in school, I was perfectly content with showing up when I needed to, and sliding by with easy B’s. From the time I was a sophomore in high school, I spent the majority of my free-time partying in numerous ways, which only got more intense as I got older. Anyone who knows me well can affirm that I was notorious for my hard-partying lifestyle. Sadly, at that time, this was something I was very proud to be known for. I won’t go into the things that I did, who I did it with, or where I did any of it. I refuse to glorify that time of my life, because of what happened as a result of my careless, reckless, and selfish behavior. I did have a great deal of fun during those years, but I did so at the expense of others.

The night of April 27th, 2007, was like any other night during that time. I spent the early evening and night drinking and bouncing around from house party to house party. There was nothing out of the ordinary, because I had done this hundreds of times before. I didn’t drive anywhere, because I never got behind the wheel drunk and everything I needed was on campus – food, friends, girls, and parties. I retired in the early morning hours after the parties started to die out.

I awoke the next morning on April 28th, 2007, late for work. The job I had at the time was informal, under-the-table work with my mother’s boyfriend. It was 8:15am and I was supposed to be there at 9:00am. It would take me at least an hour to drive there, so I debated even going at all. Truthfully, I didn’t need to show up – the man was helping me out with odd jobs so I had some extra cash to spend without having to work a real job. After debating whether or not I should go, I decided to get up and make some money. I ran through the morning routine quickly and packed my car full of things to take home for the weekend. By 9:00am I was on the road – late and driving quickly.

It was beautiful that morning, the sun was shining brightly and the air was crisp and refreshing – a perfect spring day. The windows and sunroof were both open and my music was blasting – despite being terribly hung-over, I felt fantastic. The area surrounding Stockton is very rural, woodsy, and open. The roads are rarely crowded, and I knew this well.

I was driving well above the speed limit that morning – which I always did. The way in which I drove was a direct reflection of the way I acted in every aspect of my life. My selfish behavior stopped me from seeing how reckless and careless I was, and that by acting so, I was putting others in danger.

At precisely 9:08am, I blew through a stop sign I didn’t see and T-Boned the front driver side of another vehicle. By the time I saw what was about to happen, it was far too late to do anything – I braced myself for the impact.

When I regained consciousness, blood was streaming down my face, smoke was everywhere in the air, my music was skipping, and my vision was blurry. I pushed my tongue right out of the front of my mouth to discover I was missing several teeth. At this point, I was still unaware of what exactly had just happened, and how serious it truly was. After I pulled myself from the car, it became apparent that this was no fender-bender – this was a full-fledged car accident. What I saw next, I will not describe in detail, out of respect for the young man who passed and his family and friends. What I will say, is that it was the worst thing I have ever seen in my life.

My world proceeded to come crashing down around me. The only thought that my mind could process was: “What did I just do?”

After undergoing minor surgery, I was informed by the medical staff that the young man in the other vehicle did not survive the crash. I spent that night in the hospital wide awake, questioning why this happened, and what I was supposed to do. No answers came.

Within a few weeks, formal charges were brought against me by the state of New Jersey for Vehicular Homicide. On paper, I looked like a monster – there was alcohol in my system from the night before and paraphernalia in my car. The newspapers ran with the story and worded their articles to make it seem as if I had been drinking in the morning. I turned myself in to the county jail and promptly bailed out to fight my case.

After the accident, I was unable to get anything more than a few minutes of sleep at a time. When I did fall asleep, I would vividly relive the accident. I didn’t leave the house, barely ate, and sank into a deep funk. This persisted and got worse as the weeks passed. I asked myself “Why” until I was disgusted by the question. I was unable to find any suitable answer why this happened. Why an innocent young man was dead, when he did nothing to deserve that horrible fate. The question nagged at me, but the lack of an answer is what drove me mad. I couldn’t accept the idea that “Everything happens for a reason”.

It wasn’t until I was startled out of my sleep one night that I took a turn for the better. I found myself staring into the bathroom mirror, just sort of lost in the reflection. I looked ridiculous, half of my face was covered in cuts and stitches, while the other half was perfectly fine.

I decided right then and there that this accident did not happen for a set reason. If there is a God, he or she would not play with life in that way. This was the result of my poor choices and that if there was to be any good coming from the accident, I would have to make the conscious decision to create that good. There was no reason for the accident, but I could find one – if I chose to do so. It was then that I found peace. I made a promise to myself, and to the deceased, that I would change my life for the better. My aim was to become a better person, whereby I could in turn make the world a better place by interacting in a positive manner with those around me.

From that moment on, I thought and lived differently. I started by making small changes in my everyday behaviors. I took notice to minor details and small aspects of my personality. I turned inward and started to look at how the choices I made impact others – even the most simple ones. Almost immediately, I noticed a difference in how I felt about myself and how I looked at the world. I became fascinated by this new worldview and attitude.

I spent the next year of my life getting back to the basics. I learned how to become a better person in new ways every day. I developed some of the most meaningful relationships I had ever had, and repaired ones that I had severely damaged in the past.

Unfortunately, a year and a few months after the accident, it was time to pay for what I had done. In the eyes of the legal system, even though the accident was truly an accidental and I did not intentionally get behind the wheel under the influence of alcohol – it was still a crime. I was sentenced to a 5.5 year sentence in which I had to serve 85% of the total time – effectively putting me away for 4 years, 8 months, and 1 day.

In the courtroom, I vowed to continue my self-improvement during my incarceration. And 4 years later, here I am – still very much a work in progress.

Peace and Wellness.

Ian.