High and Bye(Rodney Trahan Jr) HI, I’M TYRONE

I stood up slowly, approached the podium and reached in my right pants pocket to grab my speech. I unfolded it as I looked around at the gymnasium filled with about four hundred teenagers. I suddenly became very aware of the large banner behind me that read “Don’t reach for a drug, reach for a hug”. I didn’t feel like anyone had any interest in what I was going to say, but it was part of my Community Service so I agreed to do it. Three of my other friends were up there on stage with me. Stephanie, Anthony and Steven had all been involved in the incident with me last year so they had to speak too. I was starting to get nervous, but then I thought of Denise, my friend who couldn’t be here because of my choices. As I flattened out the pages to be able to read them I took a couple of deep breaths. I imagined I was talking to my little brother Tommy and how important it would be for him to know what I had learned.

I looked up, reached up my right hand and pulled the microphone closer and I spoke, “Hi, I’m Tyrone, I’m seventeen and I don’t want to be here. I have to be here.” I looked up and saw the some of the kids texting on cell phones, some of them doodling on the covers of notebooks but some of them stopped and looked up when I said that I didn’t want to be here. I cleared my throat and kept talking.

“I am here today because, like most of you, I have used drugs. I started when I was about thirteen years old and it started with cigarettes. It wasn’t because of anybody else, I tried them for the same reason most of you did. I was bored and somebody offered them to me. It was fun. The drugs made me feel better and I got to forget my problems for a little while.”

I took a breath, looked up quickly, looked down again and had lost my place on the page. I used my right index finger to scan the crinkled up piece of paper, and after a moment I found my spot again so I continued. “I am lucky because I partied every weekend, but nothing bad ever happened to me. I never got caught, my Mom and Dad never figured out anything and my friends were all doing it with me so no one could narc on me. I got away with it for over three years, and maybe that’s why when I finally got caught it was so bad for so many people”. I felt my bottom lip quiver like I was about to start crying. I looked back up, took a big, deep swallow and decided to finish speaking from my feelings and not the paper.

I felt tears well up in my eyes and fought them back by blinking a lot really quickly. I took a slow, shallow breath, cleared my throat and started talking. “No matter what I say here you guys are going to do what you want to do. You are here because you have to be because it’s a school assembly. We’re here because it’s court-ordered and because our friend Denise is gone because of us. We were arrested, but she was buried. I can’t hug her anymore, or hear her laugh at my jokes – but I can tell you that she didn’t deserve to die.”

I dropped my head down and began uncontrollably crying. I muttered the words, “Thank you for listening” and turned around and sat in my seat. I could feel tears streaming down my face, but pretended no one could see them so I just sat there and cried. I heard the School Counselor introduce Stephanie.


HI, I’M STEPHANIE

Through my tears I sat and watched Stephanie walk up to the podium. She didn’t pull out a piece of paper or index cards, she just started talking. I sat and listened in silence unsure of what she was going to say. From the back I couldn’t see her expressions, but I knew her voice well enough to know that when she started talking she wasn’t nervous. “Hi. I’m Stephanie and I am sixteen. I smoke cigarettes and drink on the weekends. My homeboy Tyrone is right that the court told us to come speak about what happened the night we got in a lot of trouble, but I don’t want to be specific. All I really wanted to say when I came here was that my friend died and I miss her and that I’m going to be more careful when I party. I don’t think partying is super bad, I think you just have to be careful and smart about it. Don’t do serious stuff like Meth and Cocaine. That stuff can kill you after just one use. Thanks for listening.”

Stephanie nodded, turned around and returned to her seat. I sat there confused and then got disgusted as she pulled out her cell phone and started texting. All I could do is shake my head from side to side and listen as the Counselor introduced Steven.


HI, I’M STEVEN

I sat and watched Steven limp up to the podium. The Counselor reached out her hand to help him balance himself. He was already holding a small stack of index cards in his hands. He balanced himself, held up the cards, and started to speak.

“Wassup guys? I’m Steven, I’m eighteen and I am probably the only one that actually would be here without the court telling me to. I know you all know the commercial about your brain on drugs and the egg and the frying pan meaning drugs scramble your brain. Well that’s only one example. There is a worse one and I’ll show you.” I looked around and noticed that he had the attention of almost every student and adult in the gymnasium. He turned to the left and asked the Counselor to get up from his seat.

Steven sat down and lifted his pant leg just above his knee. He moved his calf from side-to-side and took off his (prosthetic) leg. He held it up by extending his right hand in the air. The entire gym gasped and then the entire room was silent. Steven pointed over to the podium and the Counselor took off the microphone and handed it to him. “This is my fake leg. My real leg is permanently gone and so is Denise. When you make stupid decisions trying to be a bad ass or show off, you don’t get a ‘do over’ or a ‘take back’. All you get is bad leg, a dead friend and a criminal record – none of which I wanted. Having your brains ‘scrambled’ (he said using air quotes) isn’t the worst thing that can happen from using drugs.”

As Steven reattached his leg, I could hear some murmuring and some light crying – but every eye in the place was still on Steven. He handed the microphone back to the Counselor. He then put his leg back on, stood up with the support of the chair and limped over to his seat behind the podium. The Counselor approached the podium again. He looked up, and said, “I’d like to introduce Anthony. Please give him your full attention.”


HI, I’M ANTHONY….AND DENISE

Anthony walked up to the podium, rested his hands on each side, and leaned forward towards the microphone. “Hi, I’m Anthony. I am seventeen years old and I don’t want to live anymore. I ran away from home, I made a choice to play around and get high, and my friend was trying to make good choices and she died. I should be talking to you about my choices, but I thought it would be better if I spoke as if I was Denise since she can’t speak for herself anymore. He looked down, cleared his throat, and started again. His tone changed to a girly-voice which sounded a lot like Denise’s.

“Hi everyone, my name is Denise. I am seventeen years old and I am in high school. I lost my Dad to a drunk driver, so I am a member of Students Against Drunk Driving and the Treasurer of the Student Council because I want to be a banker. But I’m not going to grow up because eight months ago I died in a car accident. I was driving my friends, Tyrone, Steven, Anthony and Stephanie from a party and I was the designated driver.”

Anthony stopped a moment to catch his breath, but by then me and Steven were crying. Stephanie had her hand over her face and I could tell that she was either crying, or trying really hard not to. I sat there with my right leg bouncing up and down from nerves because I didn’t want to hear about or relive that night. I had already talked, I had already done my part and learned my lesson. The last thing I wanted to do was sit and hear about the biggest mistake of my life, and damn sure not in the words of my friend. I pulled my cards out of my pocket and started flipping through them pointlessly to distract myself from trying to listen so intently. From behind, I saw Anthony wipe his eyes and heard him began to talk again in that girly-voice.

“It was a Friday night and we had just come from the Senior Skip Day. There was a barbeque, a field day and then a party at Thomas McCann’s house. That was always the party house because he had a pool and a Nanny who never says anything to his parents about what he does. Anyway, I had gone home around seven p.m. because I never stay after the drinking starts. Everyone at the party kept calling me a ‘sober sissy’, but every time I thought about taking a drink I thought of my Dad and imagined what he would say.

My phone rang about midnight and it was my friend Steven. He wanted me to come pick up him, his Sister Stephanie, Tyrone and Anthony because they needed a ride because they were drunk or high off their asses. I headed back to the party and all four of them were waiting outside. Steph got up front beside me and Steven, Anthony and Tyrone got in the back. I started heading back to town to drop them all off.

They were talking about stuff that happened at the party like Alan and Traci finally hooking up, and how Teresa Cobb just got her third body piercing. I was driving along when Steph slapped my right arm and yelled, “Pull over! I’m gonna hurl!” So I pulled the car over. Stephanie shoved open the door and ran over towards a patch of woods and started puking. The boys in the back were making fun of her and laughing. I looked in the rear view mirror and Steven was opening his door.”

Then Anthony stopped talking and started crying loudly. The microphone was next to his mouth so every sob and breath echoed through the gymnasium into everyone’s ears and hearts. The whole room seemed to be crying in sync with him. It was about four minutes of continuous, uninterrupted sobbing.

I looked over and Steven’s head had dropped down and his face was cupped in his hands. Stephanie was still sitting in the same position, but I could see smeared black lines down her face from her make up running from her crying. I was still sitting there with my leg vibrating, crying and was slightly shaking my head side to side. I was biting my bottom lip praying he was done telling the story. I didn’t want to hear any more of it and I wanted him to stop. A part of me wanted to get up and walk out the gym. A part of me wanted to stand up and knock Anthony over so he would stop talking, but the embarrassment and shame of what he was about to say kept me in my chair. All I could do is sit and cry not knowing what to do – just like that night.

From the back I could tell that Anthony pulled his shirt up and used it to wipe off his face. He then started talking again in Denise’s voice. “Steven was opening his door to get out and help Steph.

Then it happened.

There was a really loud bang and I was shoved forward violently. I tried to say something but as I inhaled to speak I could feel small pieces of glass go into my mouth and stab the back of my throat. I remember feeling like a hammer hit the front of my forehead and then I could tell that I was flying through the windshield. I watched the reflection of my face on the hood of my car as I flew over it. It was blurry a little because a large piece of glass had pierced my left eye and I could only use my right one. As my body went past the front of my car I could feel gravity kicking in and I was heading towards the ground. I looked up and saw dirt, bushes, sticks and ground coming at me really, really fast and that’s the last thing my seventeen year old body remembers.”

Anthony tried to continue speaking but couldn’t. He was still standing there crying, the Staff on stage were crying. I looked over to check on Steven and Stephanie and they were still in their chairs, but had leaned towards each other and were embracing and sobbing on each other’s shoulders. I had talked about myself, Steph had talked about herself and Steven had talked about himself and how this affected us all. No one but Anthony was smart enough to talk for Denise. She was a good kid, a good friend and her voice deserved to be heard. For months after the accident Anthony studied motor vehicle accidents on-line, photos from the accident, and was obsessed with understanding exactly what had happened. He was always saying, “Tyrone, I’m cool. I just feel like if I could understand what happened, I could be okay with it.”


The longer Anthony stood there, the quieter things got, until finally there was deafening silence. I sat there looking around the gymnasium and saw everyone focused on Anthony as he tried to continue to talk. He cleared his throat, and back in his own voice, he talked.

“That’s the end of Denise’s story. She died from the impact which caused brain damage, swelling and almost-sudden death. So even though that’s where her story ends, it’s where our story of the rest of our life begins. It’s a life with guilt, analyzing, questioning, disgust, shame, crying and feeling like crap most of the time. Denise doesn’t know what happened the rest of that night, but I want you to know.”

Anthony turned around and pointed to Stephanie. Then while keeping his arm extended, he turned back to the podium and continued. “She was outside puking and clear of the car so nothing happened to her. She stood there and called 911 on her cell phone and kept screaming until the paramedics arrived.”

Then Anthony turned around again, pointed at me and said, “That’s Tyrone. He was in the back of the car behind Denise. She took the impact of the crash and sheltered him from most of the damage. He was awake and had no major injuries from the accident. He was pinned in the car for two hours before they could get him out.” I sat there with my mouth open as he dismissed my own personal hell in all this, but kept quiet because like it or not – he was right.

Anthony then pointed at Steven and said, “That’s Steven. He was getting out the car when the impact happened. One leg was still in the car and one was out. He lost the bottom half of one of his legs by force because he was thrown from the car. He layed on the ground with blood squirting everywhere. I had to scoot out the mangled mess of twisted metal and put pressure on his leg until the paramedics arrived.

So there we all were. Denise dead, Stephanie standing and screaming, Tyrone in the backseat screaming or unconscious, Steven missing part of a leg and me trying to save his life. All this happened because we wanted to get high and celebrate being Seniors. Our friend was home, looking through her coin collection, when we needed her. She went back out into the night to help us, and ended up dying for us. Steven lost a leg – but I lost hope. I lost happiness that night and there is no amount of drinking or using that is going to make it okay. If Denise were here she’d tell you that drinking, popping pills and partying can lead to a lot of bad things happening to you. Denise died that night, but a part of me died too and living with that is overwhelming.

I want to tell you something I have never told anyone else. I had a real bad toothache that day and hadn’t drank anything. I was completely sober so I vividly remember everything. I remember seeing my friend’s body. I remember applying so much pressure to my other friend’s leg while I watched a thick, red pool of blood form underneath his leg. I remember hearing my friend Stephanie’s high-pitched screaming over and over and over for what seemed like forever. I remember my friend Tyrone screaming from the back seat ‘get me outta’ here’ over and over too. I felt useless and frustrated and eight months hasn’t made those feelings go away.”

Anthony stopped talking. I could tell from the sounds in the microphone that he was panting. Like talking about that horrible night had gotten him so upset, that he had lost his breath. Everyone sat motionless. I didn’t hear any crying, whispering, or anything but his panting. After a few moments, I heard Anthony begin to talk again.

In a very soft-spoken voice I heard him begin to talk again. “The theme of your assembly is hugs not drugs. I understand that hugging someone and appreciating them gives you a bigger and longer high than any drug. Your friends can’t be there for you to hug later, because your choice to use could take them away. In honor of Denise, I ask two things of everyone. Turn to the people next to you and give them a hug. I don’t care if you know them or not – just do it.”

In what seemed like a domino effect, I watched as row after row of people in the bleachers started hugging each other. People on stage were hugging each other. It was amazing to watch how a simple idea had encouraged so many people to do something right. Anthony began to speak again.

“Now, what I want you all to realize is that I asked you to do something simple. Some of you were uncomfortable, but you did it anyway because everyone else did. That’s what peer pressure is. One person has an idea, it spreads and since most people are going to do it – everyone does. This time it was for a good thing, but next time – it might be pressure to do something bad. If I had a choice to hug Denise or use a drug – I would much rather choose hugs than drugs every time.” Anthony turned around and pointed to the banner on the wall behind us. Then he turned around, leaned towards the microphone and said, “Thank you. Denise, I miss you.” The entire gym stood up and cheered for him. He got a long standing ovation.

I was speechless. His speech brought so many things to light. Even though the five of us had been involved in the incident that night, I had only ever focused on what I’d gone through. Anthony’s speech made me realize there were five different versions of that night’s mess and that five different people went through the same thing – in completely different ways.



The Counselor stood up walked over to the podium and whispered something to Anthony. Soon after, he took his seat on the stage by the rest of us. We were all cried out. Me, Stephanie, Anthony and Steven. We four sat there feeling guilty, ashamed, and suddenly I felt very, very small in the huge gym with hundreds of people staring at me. I could feel the mood in the room had changed from sadness to anger and I got a little frightened. The Counselor took the microphone and said, “You’ve heard from Tyrone, Stephanie, Steven, Anthony and sort of from Denise. There is one more person coming to speak. They asked to not sit on stage and to close out the assembly. Please show respect and give your attention to Ariel – Denise’s Mother. A unified gasp from the audience was heard, and then a few random claps welcomed her to the stage.


All four of us had met Denise’s Mom before. She had bought pizza for a movie marathon we did at Denise’s house one night for “Sober Saturday Night” which Denise held once a month so we could still hang out even though she didn’t drink and stuff. I hadn’t seen Ariel since the funeral and she looked a lot sadder, older and tired. She slowly approached the stage, walked up to the podium and started to speak. I listened intently because I didn’t know what she was going to say and was terrified. We were already feeling crappy after all that had been said and I wasn’t sure I could take much more, then she started to speak.

“Hi kids – I’m Ariel and I’m Denise’s Mother. I know you all heard the story of her death and I thought I could come and share the story of her life, but I decided not to. Knowing how she lived doesn’t matter. Showing you pictures of her life won’t make a difference either. You guys are teenagers and you believe nothing is going to happen to you so you still drink, you still get high and you still take prescription pills that aren’t yours. Since you don’t think anything will happen to you, I wanted to show you what will happen to your parents if you die from doing these things.”

Ariel looked to the right and a line of adults started coming into the gym. They walked in, lined up in front of the podium side-by-side and held hands. I assumed they were the Parents of the kids at that school – until I saw Steven and Stephanie’s Dad walk in. Then a few people back, I saw my Parents walk in. All in all, there were about forty adults standing there. Ariel grabbed the microphone and walked from behind the podium and to the end of the line of Parents. She looked to the audience and said into the microphone, “If you are in the audience and you see one of your Parents standing here – please come down.”

I sat and saw about fifteen kids from all areas of the gym get up and start maneuvering their way through the bleachers and walk down to the line and stand with their Parent. Then Steven, Stephanie and I went to stand with our Parents. The kids were told to stand face-to-face with the Parents, and not to speak. Anthony’s Mom had passed away and his Dad was fighting in Iraq, so Ariel called him down and said he could stand in front of her.

Starting with Ariel, the parent held the microphone and started talking in it to the child where everyone could hear it. She took Anthony’s hand and said, “When you drink your choices aren’t good. That is why I want you to be strong enough to stay sober so that I don’t have to be strong enough to learn to live without you.”

Then she passed the microphone to the next parent. They took their child’s hand and said, “You drink, you sink. You pop pills you get ill. You die – I die too.”

Then the next Parent took the microphone. “Why would you go through all the hard work in high school, not to finish because you are laying in a hospital and in rehab for months because you were in an accident and not graduate?”

The next parents were mine. My Mom’s lip was trembling and so my Dad took the microphone from her and said, “We never heard details about that night until this assembly. We have always told you that what you do affects others. I guess now you know we were telling the truth. You are our child and you are the most important thing to us. You are a result of our love and if you were to die from a stupid mistake – we would never love anybody or anything again.” I dropped my head down out of shame and started crying again. I didn’t hear the next parents words because I was crying.

Eventually I wiped my nose on my sleeve and turned to hear the next parent – which was Steven and Stephanie’s Dad. He took the microphone and said only a few words. “I love you. Every day you stay alive I will say that to you. Don’t do anything to take that chance away.” Then he hugged them both and the microphone was passed.


I didn’t recognize any of the other parents, but I was able to hear their speeches. The next voice was a Dad who said, “I didn’t beat testicular cancer for you to die because of a bad choice.”

The next voice was also a Dad who said, “Your real Dad can’t be here because he’s in jail because of a DUI he got last weekend. It’s his third offense. I’m only your Stepdad, but I love you too. Staying together is the best way to beat anything – including peer pressure. Remember to turn to me – not away from me.”

Another woman was next and I heard her say, “Your Mom isn’t here, but I’m your Aunt and you know that if your brother and sister lost you to drugs or alcohol, they may be so upset they might think drinking is the way to see you again. Make the right decision.”

A Dad was next and he said, “I want to look up at you graduating, I want to look ahead at your wedding. I want to look in your eyes when you’re a Mother one day. I don’t EVER want to look down at you in a casket. Stay sober”.

A Mother was next and she said, “Kid’s drink to feel better. Talking about things, exercise and staying sober is the best way to feel permanent happiness. Think ahead.”

A Dad was next. His words were, “I can take away your laptop, your cell phone, your television and your Playstation to teach you a lesson after a bad choice. But I can also give those things back once you’ve learned. If you learn after you die – no one can give you back to me.”

A Dad’s voice was the one I heard next, and he said, “I don’t know what you’re going to do one day – but I know what you shouldn’t do any day and that is use.”

A Mom’s voice which was shaky came on next. I heard her clear her throat first, and then she said, “I drank and partied all through high school and college. I did a lot of damage to my body and that’s one of the reasons I don’t drink anymore. Try to learn the lesson while you are still healthy.”


Another Mother was next and she said, “Your Great-Grandfather, your Grandfather, your birth Father and your first Stepfather were all alcoholics. How many more examples do you need?”


Then I heard a Mother’s voice say, “Make Denise be the last teen to die because of her friend’s choices and decisions.” That comment left a rock in the pit of my stomach and I wanted to throw up so bad.

Ariel’s voice came back on the microphone. I heard her say, “Goodbye Denise. Hello good choices – for all of you.” She walked the microphone back to the podium and handed it to the Counselor, who then gave her a hug. He took the microphone and said, “Students, please thank our presenters for coming by coming down. Thank you for your respect and attention, and I hope you all have a nice, sober weekend. The dismiss bell will ring in ten minutes.”

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