On July 25, 2003 at approximately 4:00pm, our lives changed forever. When the phone rang that day at work, we could have no idea that life as we knew it was over. The last conversation we had with Melanie was that morning when she called excitedly to tell us that she had made Flyer on the cheerleading team. We planned on celebrating that night, after she got home from the birthday party.

The phone call was one no parent ever wants to receive. Melanie had been hit by a car. We were told to go straight to South Shore Hospital. No one would tell us what her condition was, but we knew it had to be awful. From this reaction, we knew we were facing our worst nightmare. We jumped into the car immediately and drove straight to the hospital.

We were greeted by a nurse in the front vestibule of the emergency department. We passed the typical waiting area and were brought through doors, down a long empty hall and put into a small private waiting area. At that point our fears and anxiety increased drastically. The fear of the unknown was the worst we had ever experienced. The doctor came in to explain to us that Melanie had been in a serious accident and she had gone through the windshield when the car struck her. She had stopped breathing and had no blood pressure. The paramedics had done a great job reviving her, but she needed a respirator to continue breathing. He also told us her brain was not responding to any of the tests they had performed. The doctor was very truthful and forward with us. He told us that in his opinion Melanie’s chances of survival were very slim and if she were to make it she would never be the same again. He explained that she would suffer from severe brain damage. At this point the decision was made to fly her to New England Medical Hospital where there were specialists who could offer better treatment for her. They let us see Melanie before they loaded her into the helicopter.

When we saw Melanie in the emergency room she was strapped to a gurney, her hair was soaked with blood, smears of blood were across her face and body from where the nurses tried to clean her up, her eyes were half opened showing no life, her tongue was partially sticking out of her mouth next to all the tubes that were feeding her oxygen. The floor was covered with large swirls of blood from a quick clean up, as well as many sterile wrappers from the different emergency supplies used on Melanie. We will never be able to forget the smell of blood. A nurse asked if we wanted Melanie’s clothes, but warned us they were covered with blood and were quite cut up. We saw the clothes that Melanie was wearing that day, cut and covered with blood and placed in a bag to be thrown away. Before we left the room a nurse handed us Melanie’s jewelry in a small plastic bag covered in blood.

We cannot erase the look on the faces of the emergency room staff standing around as if they all knew there was no chance for Melanie, their body language said nothing but pity for us.

The hospital arranged for a police escort to the New England Hospital. We had to follow a policeman on a police motorcycle during rush hour.

When we arrived at New England Hospital, we were once again greeted at the front door, this time by a priest and a doctor. Our first thought was we were too late. We were escorted to a similar small empty waiting room with the doctor and priest. The doctor said that Melanie was still on life support and we could move up to the Intensive Care Unit shortly. At that point the doctor had left and the priest stayed with us as we prayed. The priest accidentally asked what was her name. Nancy responded her name is Melanie. Once again, it was as if he knew there was no chance for Melanie.

When we moved to the Intensive Care Unit, they showed us the hospital chapel, and where the waiting room was. At this point we were assigned a support counselor, and we were able to see Melanie again while they were treating her. All you could smell was that strong odor of blood and medical supplies. Melanie was still not moving or showing any signs of life except for her chest moving up and down from the life support machines. You cannot imagine the horror of seeing our little girl, who was so full of life now laying in a bed with tubes coming and going in every direction, alarms from elaborate machines continuing to sound off as they were losing her. She had no control over her own bodily functions as we sat and held her. We were able to stay with her as the nurses and doctors were fighting to keep her blood pressure and body temperature up throughout the night. Family members arrived for support and to be with Melanie by her side.

Doctors waited for any improvement and preformed all the recommended tests needed to see if there was any chance for survival. By roughly 2:00pm the next day, July 26th, 2003 the doctors said Melanie’s body had not shown any signs of improvement and she was not able to survive on her own. Our worst nightmare had come true, and we lost our baby. We gathered all our family from the waiting room, told them the news, went to Melanie’s side, said goodbye and as they removed all the life support, we watched her take her last breath.

Melanie was so innocent and full of life. For her it was as simple as The Golden Rule –treat others as you want to be treated. What she didn’t know is that not everyone lives their life with such beautiful values. No one would want to be left on a cold, dirty street to die while your best friends watch.

Pamela Murphy took our daughter, blamed it on her and never once has offered an apology or one shred of remorse. Whatever sentence Pamela Murphy receives will never compare to the life sentence we have received. Melanie is never coming back, and we have to live with that for the rest of our lives.

For Melanie, and for the safety of all other children, we ask you to use your power to give Pamela Murphy the maximum sentence under the law. Send a message to others about the seriousness of drinking and driving. Don’t let our little girl have died for nothing.