by Maria Ruggiero

Created on: July 15, 2008

My childhood ended on the evening of December 15, 1974. I lost my brother, my father and my childhood all in one fell swoop. The hand of fate was knocking on our door again, the second time in four months. Every time I hear, read or see the year 1974 I am transported back to that cold December evening.

I was awakened by my Mother at about 2:30am after the troopers had left my home. They had come to the door with the news that every parent prays they will never hear, "Your son has died in an accident, we are very sorry." As an adult I know that this is the last kind of news that a trooper wants to deliver, however, as a child, I hated them as only a ten year old could. It was their fault that I would never see my big brother again. It was their fault that I would see the people I loved crying again. You see I had just watched my family crumble only four months before when my brother-in-law was killed in an accident.

My older sister, by fourteen years, had gotten married to the love of her life in 1972. I spent as much time with them as I did at home. When my Mom found out she was pregnant with me she was 40, my Dad was 43 and my siblings were 16, 14, and 11. I was spoiled by my sister and my brother Billy, 11 years older than me. We were supposed to go up to Lake George to spend the afternoon with my sister and her husband Ed at their vacation rental. I had run up to the corner and bought some gladiolas to take to them and ran home so we could go, I was so excited! Just as we were leaving the phone rang and someone asked to speak to my Dad. I gave him the phone and watched his face distort. He was told that my brother-in-law had been killed in an accident and he needed to go up to my sister, his daughter, to tell her. That was my first brush with death and I never wanted to see it, hear it or deal with it again.

My sister was so distraught that my brother Billy went to live with her in the house she had only been able to share with her new husband for 18 months. I missed her as she was battling to get through her depression, I missed Eddie because I loved him as a brother and now I missed Billy because I didn't get to see him every day. I was so sad then and everyone was too busy dealing with the adult stuff that they didn't really notice.

The night my brother was killed is so vivid in my mind that it could've been yesterday as opposed to 34 years ago. My Mom and I watched The Three Lives of Tomisina on the television and then she made me go to bed. I snuggled

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