INTRODUCTION: My Story, and Why Yours Is The One That Matters December 3 rd , 1999—life was good. No, it was great. At 20 years old, my first year of college was behind me. I had spent the last 18 months becoming one of the top-producing distributors for a $200- million marketing company, earning more money than I had ever imagined I would be at that age. I had a loving girlfriend, a supportive family, and the best friends a guy could ask for. I was truly blessed.
You might say I was on top of the world. There was no way I could have known that this was the night my world would end. 11:32 p.m. / Driving 70 mph Southbound On Hwy 99 We’d left the restaurant, and our friends, behind. It was just the two of us now.
My girlfriend, tired from the evening’s events, was dozing in the passenger seat. Not me. I was wide-awake—eyes glued to the road in front, waving my finger in the air like a baton as I quietly conducted the melodies of Tchaikovsky. Still in a state of euphoria from the night’s events, sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. Rocketing down the freeway at 70 miles per hour in my brand new white Ford Mustang, I was only two hours removed from giving the best speech of my life.
I had received my
first standing ovation, and I was elated. In fact, I desperately wanted
to shout out my feelings of gratitude to anyone that would listen, but
my girlfriend was asleep, so she was no use. I considered calling
Mom and Dad, but it was late; they might already be in bed.
Should’ve called. But I simply had no way of knowing that moment
would be my last opportunity to speak to my parents—or anyone—for
quite some time.
