Straight From the Source

Below is the letter I wrote to the local paper, the "St. John's Source" per their shitty article about Katie "Woman Dies in Tragic Auto Mishap". I suppose their response to my letter was justified all though some what infantile (I decided it was in bad taste to post their reply). What the hell is wrong with people? When did people become so fucking callus? Given they did change the language in the article, but not much.


I would like to inform you that I'm a friend of the deceased. I'm greatly disturbed by the insensitive manner in which you wrote this article. While I'm not sure of the reporting practices in St. John's, don't you think in such a sensitive situation you should report the facts more than observation? I was most upset by your decision to include the neighbor's quote, "I heard Crunch, crunch, crunch and then a girl screamed." That "crunch crunch" was the crushing of Katie's lungs. I understand that graphic details sell papers, but have some respect. My friend was not a cereal, "snap crackle and pop." She was a good person who was tragically killed. Even if that was a direct quote from a neighbor was it really necessary to put that in the article? I think you exercised some poor judgment in this piece.

I appreciate that you changed the language in the article, thank you for that. Going forward please be more sensitive in your writing. This piece was like adding insult to injury. We were already upset with Katie's loss.

Gone but not Forgotten

Five years ago today I stood at the threshold of a cold dark bedroom on 85-Park Drive in Boston, MA. The snow was falling outside and without any real reason I remained frozen, staring at that little flashing red light on my phone. My heart was in my throat. I think it’s been there ever since. Perhaps it’s sincere cynicism, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Perhaps it’s intuition.

Today I stood, phone in one hand and my mouse firmly attached to the other, I was frantically multitasking in betweens meetings. In a rushed tone I answered the phone, “Good afternoon Alison…” Before I could even get my last name out the voice on the other line said, “Ali it’s Marc. I’m so sorry to call you at work with this, but Katie Hewson was in an accident.” I clumsily searched for my chair behind me. I needed to sit down. My heart previously in my throat was now flush against my molars.

“Marc, are you telling me Katie is dead?” He finished detailing the accident and said, “Yes, Katie is dead.” What the fuck????!!! Today holds a new sadness for me. Robbed of two great women on the same day, five years apart. I fail to see the logic here; God knows I’d really like to.

To make matters worse Mark had forwarded me an article regarding Katie Hewson’s death. They dated the accident on February 8th at 6:00pm. Katie was pronounced dead at 8:00pm. Perhaps it’s my own sensitivity, but the article literally made me sick. I decided in light of this news it was best if I left work a little early.

Maybe I’m angry at my losses, maybe I’m confused by fate. I really want to believe things happen for a reason, I really want to see the big picture. I want to put faith in something bigger then myself, but I just can’t. Maybe once a little more time has passed.

I remember when I met Katie Hewson, I had just moved into the YMCA for my first year at Northeastern University. They had run out of dorms on campus so all the transfer students were staying on the two top floors of the Y on Huntington Ave. That was truly an experience. We shared the elevator bank with the regular residents (Families in Transition). The bank was divided by a flimsy gate. It made the morning commute to classes both interesting and awkward. Though we were frequently awakened by our neighbors setting the building on fire, I miss that place. I miss the people.

Katie was one of the fist people I met there. She had the best sense of humor and the biggest smile of anyone I’ve ever met. Her klutziness may have in fact superceded my own, but she always found a way to make it a strength. It’s a great of sign of character to be able to laugh at yourself. Katie was just like that. Last week I was just thinking I needed to get in touch with her and see how life in St. John was treating her. Now it is too late for that.

This is just another reminder that I can’t put off things I really want. My priorities might be a little different than some but at the end of the day if I’m not here I want to go out knowing I did what I wanted. I worked towards my dream. Everything else is really moot. While I was busy watching the Anna Nicole Smith special report, my friend was taking her last breath. As the light in her eyes was slowly extinguished, I took my own for granted.

Today and hence forth, the sun shines a little less brightly, the world spins slightly off its axis and words have lost a little of their luster. We have lost two wonderfully amazing human beings, five years apart.

Note to the departed,
Since your stories were tragically cut short, I will have to finish writing them, I’ll keep going for all three of us, I promise.

Thank you, thank you both wherever you are tonight.

Katie Elizabeth Svitek
Kathleen Hewson