| It was a beautiful, sunshiny day on September 9, 1992.� Corey, just shy of three years old, was perched proudly in the back seat next to his new baby brother.� He was dressed in his new, brightly colored, Hawaiian short outfit and could not wait to show his Mamaw.� He had no idea that this would be the last time he would be wearing it, nor did I. |
| Once we arrived at Mamaw's house, Corey scampered into the house as fast as his tiny legs would carry him.� As soon as he spotted her, he exclaimed, "Mamaw, like my new clothes?"� While he and his father visited with my mother-in-law, baby Jordan and I headed upstairs for a changing and feeding.��� |
| The upstairs was empty and quiet, giving plenty of privacy for nursing the baby.� The quietness did not last long, however, and the sound that broke the silence was one that brought me to my feet in an awkward leap.� Normally, in a town like Clarksburg, I would not have paid much attention to the sound of screeching tires.� This time, however, I just knew it was Corey. �I don't know how I knew, I just did.� I could feel it; my heart sank.� |
| Confirming my intuition, I ran to the upstairs door and looked out to see my husband rocketing down the steps and my precious little boy lying in the road crying.� He had been hit. My mind was scrambled with overwhelming panic.� My first thought was to run after Corey.� I had only reached the top step, when I jerked myself around and dashed back into the house.� Realizing again that I needed to go down and check on my son, I ran back out the door.� Again, I found myself back inside.� I'm not sure how long I continued in this routine, before my mother-in-law finally seized me.� She pried Jordan from my trembling grasp and forced me down the steps to Corey.� |
| I must have been in a state of shock for quite a while, because the ambulance arrived before I did.� Now stripped of his bright new outfit, my sweet little boy looked tiny and helpless, like a doll, pinned to the papoose board. The paramedics kept telling me that he only appeared to have a broken leg.� Meanwhile, instead of transporting him to the local hospital, they were life-flighting him to Morgantown!� I was terrified!�� |
| That trip to Morgantown was the longest ever.� It seemed as if we would never get there.� By the time we did arrive, the doctors already had him in traction.� Thank God, the paramedics were right, he had only suffered a broken leg.� However, the poor little guy had to spend a week in the hospital, with a pin through his teeny, little knee.� Afterwards, he had to spend three weeks in a body cast.� |
| Amazingly, Corey managed to be bravest through it all.� His main concern was the fact that the paramedics had cut his new clothes.� Forcing back my tears, I had managed a smile and a promise for a new outfit. Although this was such a horrifying and painful moment for the whole family, we were fortunate to have only lost the clothes and not the boy. |
| January 25, 2002 |
| Corey's Clothes |
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