When I was 13, my father was killed in an automobile accident. This single one event caused a downward spiral of events than would shape my life into the catastrophic state it is in now. I often wondered if he had lived and I had a positive male role model would I have made better choices in life. I was essentially raised by pro wrestlers, became a wrestler and promoter myself. Living in a world like that, where reality is what you make it, and you suffer no consequences for your actions, I had a warped sense of what was real and was not. I grew up lying, scamming, and breaking the law. Today I am 35 and my life is in shambles. If I could only go back to the pivotal moment …
Posts Tagged life + death
Loss and tragedy
Feb 20
Believe………
Jan 20
Migrated to the US at 3 yrs old. Raised with wise guys but kept my Latino roots. Joined the USMC at 17 Travel the world. I love Latin music and it became part of my survival. I have been fortunate to have met and performed with legendary musician. Dealt with drug abuse and betrayal. Honored my mother and love my children but the system took my life away due to my divorce. Now I begin life again and many doors open on my way to a Grammy! I thank God Everyday and Believe!
Connie Noll worked as a conference coordinator in Collins Hall at the U.S. Army War College in Carlisle, PA. At 4:00 PM July 15, 1994, Connie turned off her computer, wished her office mates a great weekend, and left Collins Hall. She made the right-hand turn into the driveway at 3095 Ritner Highway and hit the garage door opener. As the garage door slowly rose, she noticed that her husband’s Cherokee was parked to the side of its normal spot. Then she saw him. “Oh my God, Jack! What have you done?” she cried out. The scene was macabre, like something out of a horror movie. As the garage door finished opening, Connie saw Jack hanging from a rope tied to a ceiling joist.
On Monday, July 25, I had a meeting with Connie Noll. This was the first time that I had met her, and I had no idea what she had just been through. We discussed the details of a conference that I was hosting in September. I left Collins Hall en route to the hospital in Harrisburg. My wife Barbara was in the hospital fighting for her life after an eighteen-month battle with breast cancer. Two days later, her breathing and her heart stopped. The doctors were able to revive her, but the prognosis was not good. She remained in a coma for twenty-one days before she finally passed away. The date was August 16, 1994, a month and one day after the death of Jack Noll.
On September 14, I went to Collins Hall to start greeting guests that were coming to the conference. I saw Connie Noll and we exchanged greetings. During our discussion she said that a co-worker told her about the loss of my wife and she offered her condolences. I thanked her and we talked briefly. I still had no idea of her personal situation. Later that day one of the War College professors asked me if I knew that Connie had just lost her husband. I felt stunned and embarrassed. I got up from my chair and went looking for Connie. When I found her I told her I had just learned about her husband, and I was terribly sorry I hadn’t returned her condolences. Connie said, “That’s okay, you wouldn’t have any reason to know.” It did not make me feel any less of a heel, but at least I had told her how I felt. I saw Connie again late in the afternoon of the second day of the conference, just before one of the breaks. We were alone in the break area. We exchanged greetings and Connie suggested maybe we ought to get together to talk. I agreed that sharing our pain and suffering was probably a good idea.
I moved to Fort Leavenworth one week later. Connie and I maintained our long distance friendship that soon developed into a mutual love. We married on September 30th 1995 and will celebrate fifteen wonderful years together in 2010.
A September to forget.
Dec 23
In September 2007 my father passed away at age 45- healthy ,young, a freak incident the doctor said. I drove home to plan the funeral. Mom in bad shape-hospitalization-very very bad. I was driving back to my home for work 3 days later, when just as I was passing exit 100 a drunk driver was pulling a tractor trailer, the wrong way down an off ramp on the interstate. He hit me head on before I even knew what had happened. Then everything was black. I woke to fire, screaming, smoke and sirens. I was in a car with my pet. The car was totalled, and on fire- I had major injuries but was alive- pet was fine. Man thought he had killed me because I was not moving after accident- he fled the scene, people chased him down- and he later shot himself. I had to file a law suit to get my surgeries for my injuries. And then another because my grandparents and fathers family decided they wanted my inheritance from my family…and the family based business-we are now estranged and in a court battle. So then I get a rental car to drive back to my home for surgeries, the rental car they gave me for some reason had a nail in the tire and I almost had a blow out on the interstate-( a trucker saved me thankfully)- but it still had a flat in the middle of no -where – so I was stranded….I finally go back to my home and get in a 3 month long battle with the insurance company over paying for my surgeries,it is intense. I cannot breathe properly without the surgeries. I’m in physical therapy. Bones are re-broken. When I finally do get them I have a severe reaction to the codeine (turns out I am allergic) and I become very-very ill and have an allergic reaction- back in the hospital. It takes a few years to recover from the surgeries, one law suit is done, after a year, I still don’t have a car, the other law suit for my fathers estate is still going on after over 2 years. My nerves are finally back. This is a true story.
Waiting for me
Dec 15
On February 19, 2002 my father called me to discuss my mother’s declining health. He told me that the nurses had informed him that she would pass away in the next few months. I felt so bad about this, and all the pain she had been put through because of Alzheimer’s and breast cancer, I started praying at 9:30pm that she be freed and allowed to go home.
Later on that evening, around 3 in the morning, the telephone started ringing. I was in a deep sleep in which I was dreaming that I was sitting in a red convertible next to my mother who was driving. She had long flowing hair, and was smiling as she drove. We kept driving to try and find the right place she had to go to die.
I finally heard the telephone and awoke to answer it. It was my father who called to say my mother was dying and that I needed to come from Washington DC to Minnesota as soon as possible.
I made my travel arrangements and drove to work to take care of a few things on the way to the airport. During that time, the care facility called me to see what time I would be arriving and to let me know, not much time was left. I asked them to put the telephone to my mother’s head so she could hear. Once that was done, I told her that I was her daughter, and that I was coming to see her and I asked her to wait.
While on the airplane, I went to the flight attendant to ask if my seat could be moved closer to the door because of the situation. After she checked with the captain, I was moved by the door, and the airplane crew had other folks wait until I got off the plane. For some reason, the plane also ended up at the closest gate to the rental cars.
The rental facility got me through their process in under 10 minutes which allowed me to drive quickly to the care facility. When I arrived, I did not know what I would find, my mother still alive, or that she had passed away.
As I approached her room, the nursing staff saw me and escorted me down. They told me for some reason the dying process stopped, that they had never seen anything like it, and that for a time, she was holding her own. My mother had waited for me before passing away.
I am still struck to this day with the fact that my mother heard me, and waited for me. What a great gift.
I’m in London for a High School trip and the girls decide to go to the store and get some snacks while the guys stay at the Hotel. The girls come back with snacks and an address to a club in Piccadilly Circus (London’s Time Square). At about 10:30 I show up at the girls’ room ready to go but they chickened out. I decide to go by myself, but luckily my friend Fernando decides to accompany me.
We leave, hop on the metro, arrive at Piccadilly and begin looking for this club. As we’re looking we go down this classic London street; medium height, soot lined buildings on a narrow cobble stone road. While walking we see a beautiful women sitting under a flashing sign which says “girls girls girls.” We head over and she says “Lapdances for 5 pounds” in this sexy french accent. We decline but tell her if we can’t find our club then we will be back. We don’t find the club. Next thing we know we’re following a French women down two flights of stairs, the corridor was narrow and lined with red velvet. We enter this small room where there is a sofa seating about 5 girls, 2 large bouncers, and one older black women behind a desk. The French women leads us to an even smaller room, where Fernando and I share a 2 person seat with a coffee table separating us and the French women. She begins to chat with us. She then introduces us to the girls, we tell her which two we like, she steps out and in comes the older black women (known as lady marmalade from now on). Lady Marmalade proceeds to tell us that because the French women was a host to our party we owe 150 lbs each. We keep it cool and I tell Marmalade that we don’t have that kind of money and get up to go. She whistles and one of the two extremely large gentlemen block the door, we’re trapped. She forces us to show her our wallets. She empties out both wallets. 90 lbs from mine and about 40 from Fernando’s. At that point I’m scared and angry. She then pulls out two sheets of paper, some sort of contract, pulls both of our ID’s and begins to take down all of our information. She then tells us that we “have approximately 3 days to pay” her what we owe or she will find us and take it. The craziest thing is she makes us sign this ridiculous piece of paper. Even crazier is how stupid I am.I signed in what was not my signature. Marmalade notices, flips out and begins yelling, “YOU DUMB @#@#$$$! SIGN THE #$#@ PAPER CORRECTLY, SIGN THE @@##$$% PAPER AGAIN!!!” She then notices I have an ATM card and she tells me that I’m going to be escorted to an ATM machine to clean out my account…
I tell her that I only have a savings account which is inaccessible overseas (which is true). She yells and makes me go anyway. I stand up and say, “Fernando let’s go,” but she replies, “He stays.” So, as I’m walking up the 2 flights of stairs with a monster of a man my mind is going 100 miles per hour. I’m thinking about running and getting help, but that would in danger Fernando. I’m thinking that I could just signal a Bobby or maybe do this or that and who knows what… anything I did could relate to Fernando being hurt or killed. Adrenaline like I’ve never felt before is coursing through my veins as I swipe my card at an ATM machine outside a crowded arcade. The card doesn’t work, as i said it wouldn’t, the monster tries for himself and sees that it doesn’t work so we head back.
As we are walking back I flip out, ” WE ARE #$@@@ HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS FROM CALIFORNIA, WE’RE ONLY 16. YOU ROBBED US! WHAT THE %%%&&! I TOLD YOU THE ATM DIDN’T WORK! ##@$$ 5 DOLLAR LAP DANCE! WHAT THE $$##@%% MAN!!!” He tells me to calm down and that he will tell marmalade that we have no more money and to let us go. Then I see the scariest thing of the night. The stool which the French women sat on was gone, the “girls girls girls” sign wasn’t flashing or even flicking. I then realized we could have disappeared off the face of the earth and not one person could have even began to know where to search. The teachers thought that we were in our rooms, the girls that we were at a club, and this place might as well not exist. I’m following the beast back down the corridor, he walks over to Lady Marmalade and whispers in her ear, she slams her book on the desk and yells, “GET THE ##@@$% OUT OF HERE!!!” I holler for Fernando and he pops out of the tiny “host” room, he looked so scared. Fernando sprints up the stairs, I survey the room once more, lock eyes with the gorgeous French women, shake my head in disgust and whisper, “That was #@$% up,” then dash for the door myself. Fernando And I are running and letting out screams of relief, frustration, and pure fear as street and subway musicians play on. We both even acknowledged that it felt like we were in a movie. We get back to the hotel, the girls saw right through us, they knew something happened without either of us uttering a syllable. The oldest one in the group, Graciella (18 and legally able to drink in the UK), takes us to the hotel bar, buys us two Jack Daniels on the rocks, and I begin to tell her our story… my hands still trembling.
A Beautiful Day to Die
Oct 16
One morning, as I walked outside the house, a sudden thought came to my mind ‘what a beautiful day to die.’ I paused, felt a bit scared and worried thinking something bad may happen during the day.
Later that morning.
I confirmed through a pregnancy test that I was pregnant and we were elated to know we would be parents for the 1st time.
A few hours later.
My husband and I were about to take a bus to another city in his home country, 17 hours away to pick up a friend @ the airport. While we waited for the bus to arrive, we went to check email at a nearby cybercafe. We couldn’t believe it, my husband had heard back from a graduate school giving him a full-scholarship beginning in about 6 months. I was both happy for him because of this wonderful opportunity but at the same time sad because he would be away while pregnant and the delivery of our 1st child.
Because of this sudden news, my husband had to stay behind to gather his documents while I traveled alone to meet my friend. Our good bye seemed a bit strange, we both later confirmed feeling ‘death’ around us.
I traveled @ night and slept most of the way there.
I woke up and thought “I’m still alive.”
I picked up my friend from the airport and my husband met us 2 days later as we toured this new city.
On the way home, I felt sluggish and exhausted. I turned to my husband and out of the blue, I said “I think the baby is dying.”
We traveled back 17 hours and then to the local hospital.
I was losing the baby, our first baby, in another country, the day before our departure back to the U.S.
Months later, my husband left for graduate school and on a trip to visit him, we became pregnant again. We now have a beautiful daughter and couldn’t be happier.
I look back on that painful experience of losing our 1st child, I look at my daughter now and I know it would have been difficult for us to be part during such a important and beautiful time of our lives. I could have not survived my pregnancy and the weeks/months after giving birth without the support of my husband.
The thought that came to me that morning, perhaps was the spirit of my child telling me that it was a beautiful day, with the sun shining on my face, to leave and go to heaven.
The whole experience felt like right out of a movie, how all the events were so perfectly matched in my life.
I didn’t understand why God would take the baby away in my miscarriage, but later I realized that it was all part of a plan bigger than us to have our family together from the beginning.
It’s painful yet healing for me to tell this story. Thank you for reading.
