“At 4:09 a.m. on March 10th, emergency services were dispatched to the two-vehicle accident on I-20, four miles east of Abilene.”
“A Dodge Ram was traveling east in the westbound lanes of I-20. A Ford traveling west on I-20 was then struck by the Dodge head on in the westbound lane.”
When you look at what remains of the Ford Edge, it just looks like a mangled up heap of metal. As if it’s some kind of sick art piece. When you look at what remains of Aspen Blessing’s car, you only see a pile of twisted steel, aluminum, and dangling wires. You simply can’t fathom that right in front of you, merely inches away from where you stand, was where an 18 year old girl passed away. It’s as if your mind has a defense mechanism, an internal protocol set in place to protect you from the terrible truth. You’re looking at the car, the same one you saw in pictures and on the news. You’ve heard of what happened, and somehow it’s still impossible to comprehend it when it’s right in front of you. It’s just unbelievable.
“The driver of the Ford was pronounced dead on the scene and has been identified as 18-year-old Aspen Blessing.”
Time moved in slow motion for many on Friday, January 31st. After watching the video, seeing the images, hearing the stories as the events unfolded, and seeing merely a glimpse of what the Blessing family lost, the minutes after seemed to feel more like hours. It was a very strange day. It was difficult to jump right back into a regular school day. We had just seen a glimpse of the effects of what is arguably the most terrible, devastating, and world ending thing that can happen, and then we were just supposed to go back to what we normally do. For me, I had to work on a crossword puzzle for Spanish class. However, it was impossible to think about anything else, let alone words in a different language, when all I could think about was what happened.
“I miss my sister a lot, I love her so much.”
“I bawled so much,” they said! “OMG I cried so much,” said another! “Especially when the dad came on,” said most of them! After watching the video on Friday, it was the main talk of the school. The thing most people talked about was how much they cried during certain parts of the video. It’s as if to some people it’s some sort of sad amazing movie they just watched. As if the fact that they cried during certain parts is what is important. As if that’s the reason we were sat down and shown the video was to cry. But it’s not a fictional movie. It wasn’t written by some mastermind, amazing, genius screenwriter. It’s not something that we should obsess over or be amazed and “dazzled” by. It’s the story of an 18 year old girl who got killed by a drunk driver driving the wrong way on I-20. It’s the story of the infinite effect it has had and will continue to have on the family members, firemen, paramedics, state troopers, and civilians who witnessed the devastation. It’s not a movie; it’s real life. It’s something that really happened.
“I hope you will hear how deeply impacted each of us has been.”
“A daughter, a sister, a sister-in-law, an aunt, a granddaughter, and a friend to many.”
Aspen had left her parents’ house to go to her friends at 3:53 a.m. She had been spending the night celebrating her upcoming 19th birthday on March 15th, 2024. “I will forever be grateful for that last late night talk, snuggle on the couch, and good night hug; one last ‘I love you’ moment,” said her mother. While leaving she texted her mother. Her last text message ended with “I love you so much, it was good seeing you, and I’ve missed you.” Sixteen minutes later, at 4:09 a.m., she was hit head on and killed by an intoxicated driver driving on the wrong side of the road. The drunk driver of the truck, whose blood alcohol level was 0.273 which is three times the legal limit of 0.08, only suffered a broken femur.
“One choice by one person would change our family forever and our world would be ripped apart in a way that we never expected.”
“I tell this story every time we get to share because it’s one of my favorites, so just bear with me.”
The digital clock in the lunchroom read “1:00.” For me and and I this meant that it was time to go out back behind the school and see the wreckage in person. As we got up and began making our way through hallways and doorways, a feeling of impending doom arose within me. I had seen the vehicle once before, moments before. But I couldn’t bear to get close to it, so I stood about 200 feet away. Then quickly went back inside. But now it was time to go back out there and actually take it all in. Eventually we got to the glass doors, and I could see the vehicle, then my hand pushed the door open. These next steps my foot took seemed to be involuntary. Inside I wanted to turn around and never look at that “thing” again. But my heart knew I needed to take it all in before letting it go. After a moment or two passed, I was standing merely inches away from the “vehicle,” if that’s what you can call a pile of bent and awkwardly slumped over metal. Naturally you look for any signs of life, or what once was life, in the vehicle. A drop of blood still on the seat, just something to help assure you that what you’re seeing isn’t just a pile of metal, but where someone died. But I didn’t see anything. The seat was clean for the most part, aside from having rips along the side of it. And although the steering wheel is mangled up, it too is clean. It’s as if the car was empty at the time of the crash. This only made it harder to comprehend what had happened.
After a while of staring at the remains of the vehicle, I took a deep breath in, and walked back inside with my friend. This time I knew I would not come back out there. I had taken it all in.
You don’t need to live in fear. You don’t have to worry every time you step into a car. You don’t need to try to control the world around you because it’s simply out of our control. Life is unpredictable. Just be grateful for the time you’re lucky to have. Don’t take the days that you have for granted. Don’t waste a day up in your bedroom when you could be spending time with the ones you love most, and the ones who love you the most. You never know if it’s the last time you’ll see them, or they’ll see you. Nobody is ever promised tomorrow. So make the most of today…
In loving memory of Aspen Blessing who passed away on March 10th, 2024. She was born on March 15th, 2005. My, and all of Wylie High School’s prayers, are with you during this difficult time. We are all thinking of you and the impact your daughter has made on our community. Thank you.
