On June 24, 1994, you changed all our lives when you chose to get behind the wheel of a car. You took our two children, 21 year-old John Estle King and 19 year-old Melissa Ann King from us and their first-born child, Justin Walter King.

(Baby's picture taken the day after the death of his parents.)

In one week we had planned two funerals, proclaiming to the world how much we loved them and how unique each was! I want you to try to understand how we feel, our pain, emptiness and not knowing if you will be able to take another breath. If this really happened or it is just one great big nightmare that seems endless. Mr. Johnson, would you be able to know how it feels to get a phone call at two in the morning and someone on the other end of the line tells you that your son John and daughter Melissa have been killed in an accident? Do you know how an injured animal sounds? That's the way I sounded when I received that call. Try to put yourself in our youngest son's place when he came upon the accident and found out that it was his brother and sister-in-law that were killed. I can't even start to describe what Bill had to go through, trying to live each and every day without his brother and sister-in-law who was like a sister to him. The emptiness he has without their love and not ever having the right to spend quality time together like they always did. How would you feel if you had a son who wakes up in the middle of the night crying wanting his brother, asking why this happened? How would you comfort him and try to take all his pain and suffering away?

Mr. Johnson, recently I was going through some papers and this is what I found. It said "I wake this morning finding everything in a haze wiping tears from my eyes. I saw your smiling face. I reached out and touched you, yet all I could feel was pain. You felt nothing from your life, your life within a frame. I spoke receiving no reply. I told you that I love you. I asked you "why"? I'll never have another one to take your place. All I have, big brother, are memories and the picture of your face." Our youngest son's world, by you Mr. Johnson, has been shattered.

Do you know how it feels or what it's like to bury two of your children? It was unfair on your part that my husband had to go and gather what belonging were in the twisted truck. To see the pain in his eyes of what our children had to go through and the denial he went through for months. Yes Mr. Johnson, our hearts are still freshly wounded and in need of mending. Wounded hearts must be allowed to mourn and weep their loss; to pour out their pain, agony, sadness, hurt and anger, and to release their well of tears. Do you know how it feels to cry yourself to sleep at night? Parents should not have to do this. This is one thing that my husband couldn't do, to let his real feelings out and show his emotion. In November of 1994, five months after our children's death, my husband was put in the hospital, his body and mind couldn't handle the torment that he was going through with out our first born son not being here with us. With him trying to be strong for his family, comforting us, wiping away our tears, he wouldn't let himself face the fact that he would never be able to hold our son in his arms again, to tell him that he loves him, have father and son talks, to do things together like all fathers do with their sons. His whole world came crashing down around him and you, Mr. Johnson, I blame. Our children were meant to explore, taste and experience this world. It hurts knowing that John and Melissa will never be able to do this, to grow old together, to enjoy raising their own child. Justin will never be able to feel the true love his parents had for him; to feel the bond of love that grows between parent and child. To have a little brother or sister, that he has asked for. Do you know how hard it is to explain to this child that he will never have a little brother or sister to play with and to share every day life with because his parents aren't here. Carl Brune Johnson, Jr., you have taken all of this from Justin Walter King.

Mr. Johnson, I do want you to know, a week after this happened, Justin heard a truck come into the yard. He got real excited. I knew in my heart he thought it was his daddy's truck. He was looking at the door, waving his little arms, waiting for his daddy and mommy to come through the door. All I could do was pick him up and hold him in my arms with tears streaming down my face. Do you know how an 8-month old baby's face looks when his daddy and mommy didn't come through that door or what was going through his little mind because daddy or mommy hadn't come and got him yet? Knowing in my heart Justin would never ever be able to wrap his little arms around his daddy and mommy again. Can you ever try to realize how this hurts inside, your stomach doing flip flops, your spirit broken, your grief is a burn hole in the blanket, your grief is endless, five minutes is endless, grief stinks. You go through physical, emotional, spiritual funk. No wonder people avoided us like we had a contagious disease.

It makes me furious that Justin will never know his parents and I will never be able to wipe out the memory in my mind of the look on Justin's face. You took Justin's daddy and mommy from him. It's not fair for this child, our grandson, not to be raised by his own natural parents and feel the love for them. Even though Justin is being raised by grandparents, it's not the same. He should have had the same rights you had being raised by your own dad and mom. God put them together and in a blink of an eye, you took them from our lives and the life of their child. Do you realize the things that Justin will miss out on because Daddy and Mommy are not here? Grandparents can make up for some, but not all. For John and Melissa, missing out on Justin's first steps, his first sentence telling them "I love you Daddy and Mommy". They will never be able to mend a skinned knee with a kiss or help fix a broken toy, Justin's first birthday party, losing his first tooth, first day at school, first report card, first church or school play, pre-school or kindergarten graduation, his first bicycle, first baseball or football game. All of this is just in his first eight years of life, and all they enjoyed was eight wonderful months of Justin's life. Mr. Johnson, these are just a few of the things our son John and daughter Melissa will miss out on in their child's life.

Mr. Johnson, I have sat for hours in my own little world, asking myself if I had known the pain I'd bear, of sadness and the great dispair, would I have chosen the path I did, to have John who so briefly lived, yes I would. For all the laughter, all the good he taught me, all so much we saw through his kindness, love and compassion. I will always hold near to my heart the first time I held my child in my arms. He was so tiny, a very special gift from God. We will never get over our son! John is so much a part of us. His memory will live on in the ones he left behind. And our sweet and beautiful Melissa who was the rose in our son's eyes. She was special to us, not just for bringing happiness into our son's life, but for bringing it into our live's too. Her warm smile, the way she cared for others touched us each and every day of our lives. Our family was richer and fuller because she was a part of our family. Mr. Johnson, if only our children could come to us, if only in our dreams. To let us hold them again in our arms, if only for a few minutes. Please know that our sweet children are loved and missed by us. There was so much love between our children. Mr. Johnson, even though John and Melissa are gone from us physically, they'll live on in our hearts eternally. I guess we will survive, but who knew that it would be so short. Someday soon, Mr. Johnson, when we meet our children in heaven, our joy will never stop. We will not feel the need to cry anymore.

Mr. Johnson, do you know how hard or can you even realize that we must get through another day without our children, another night we must go to bed without our children. Knowing that we will never be able to hug our son or tell him how much we love him or do things for him and his family that all parents do? Mr. Johnson, you just didn't take our son from us, you also took our daughter. The daughter I never had. I miss the walks, the talks, the laughs through the good times and the bad, the friendship we shared, and the secrets, none of this can ever be replaced. I want you to know our pain and in a mother's eyes how would you handle your feelings when sudden tears swept in by a strand of music? Haunting echoes of pain on anniversaries? Feeling their presence for an instance one day while dusting their room, going through earlier pictures that invites me to fold my children in my arms again and memories on wisps of wood smoke and sea scents? That each and every day we have to live this bad dream. Our children will never walk through our doors again. Do you know how many times I have picked up the phone to call my children to hear their voices and to tell them that I love them, catching myself and the tears flow down my face. These feelings come over me and all I want to do is hit something to make this suffering go away. You have no idea what you have done to our family, our lives. Do you know what helps me to get through some of the days? Telling the story of my loved ones again and again, sharing my precious memories of them. It helps the death to become more real to me and letting my body get used to the fact. Speaking to everyone, whether in the grocery line, in a department store, at church or at the playground watching Justin play with the other children, lightens my burden as I share John and Melissa with the world. Praying to God and thanking him each day that we still have Bill and Justin. And for letting us have our children John and Melissa even for a short period of time to love and teach lessons on this earth for them to learn. God selected us to care for John and you, Mr. Johnson, in one moment of weakness, took him away. But the hardest things are the most common, hearing them call us, saying their names, never seeing, feeling, smelling and hearing them again. Especially John telling us that he loves us or coming up to me with this babyish look on his face, putting his arm around me, asking mom can you watch Justin for us? Or Melissa calling me asking what's up mom and telling me I love you very much.

We have taught our children not to talk to strangers, not to get in a car with anyone they did not know, but we couldn't save him from you that night. The special love we have for John and Melissa has not been wasted, but has been reinvested in many ways that have come back a hundredfold with our grandson Justin. We will always keep their memories alive, keeping them from being erased, while helping other people that have lost their children before their time.

Mr. Johnson, how would you explain to a 4 year-old when you put him to bed at night, when he picks up his mommy and daddy's picture, gives them a kiss and asks why his mommy and daddy had to die? Can you truthfully answer from your heart to a 4 year-old why his parents aren't here? Mr. Johnson, are you able to sleep at night? Do you relive what our John and Melissa went through before their final death or what they might have been thinking? Have you thought about what you put the truck driver through at the final impact that changed our family's, his and everyone else's lives? Have you? I pray to God that the courts will never let you drive again and put another family through what our families have had to go through for the last 4 years 2 months and 28 days. I want you to think about what you have done for the rest of your living life. I want you to know with Justin only being 8 months at the time of his parent's death, the only memories he will have of his daddy and mommy are pictures, their wedding tape and the things that his grandparents and family members tell him about his parents. If you had a grandson, what would your thoughts be knowing that he would never be raised by his own parents? Or being a grandparent wanting to be with him each and every day, like it was when John and Melissa were alive. Since this has all happened I don't even know how it feels to have a normal day. To miss out on the little things that Justin might do or say each day. Missing his sweet face, his funny little laugh and giggles, his gentle touch as he holds our hands or strokes our face or rests his little hand on our leg. Putting him to bed each night, even when the kids moved out, Melissa asked me to come over and help them tuck Justin in each night. Melissa knew the love that I have for this child. She always told me, mom Justin doesn't have one mom, but two. John said to me even though we have our own home mom I want you to still see him at bedtime and sing the bedtime song you and Melissa sing to him. He wanted Justin to have as much love as possible and to be raised in a loving family. For grandparents and family members to be involved in his daily life, to learn and love each person the way they were, but Mr. Johnson, you took it all away from Justin and us.

Just recently, Mr. Johnson, Justin had his first baseball game. While I was helping him get dressed, he look's at me and said mom I wish my daddy and mommy were here for my game. It took everything I had to hold back the tears. I looked at Justin and said, your mommy and daddy are here with you, placing my hand on his little chest. They're here in your heart and they'll always be here. They'll be with you on the baseball field helping you. Your mommy and daddy are your guardian angels. I had some angel tattoos. Justin picked two angels with a cross in the middle. After placing them on his arm, he looked at me, pointed, and said this is my daddy, this is my mommy and with a great big smile on his face, wrapped his little arm's around me saying I miss them. It's moments like this, Mr. Johnson, that are hard to handle. It hurts inside and breaks my heart. How would you handle this moment with a 4 year-old child, knowing in his little mind that his daddy and mommy will never be able to cheer for him, tell him he did a great job, and Justin never hearing their voices at any of his games or praising him for little things he might do each and every day? This is just one of the special moments in Justin's life that our John and Melissa are missing out on in their child's life. Not to mention any grandchildren they should have enjoyed.

We have always taught our children God sent his only Son to die on the cross for us, to take our sin away. It doesn't make any difference what someone does to you. You always ask God to help you to forgive the person and knowing my heart the teaching of my children. It is time for me to forgive. That's what my heart is saying, but my mind says I'm not ready. I know if I don't, I will never go to heaven to be with my John, Melissa and family members that have gone before me. The hurt, pain and emptiness will always be with me every moment, every second, every day of my living life on this earth until God calls me home. I have prayed about this for a long time and God said to me "Your children are here with me. Forgive and when it's time for you to leave this world that I have created, you'll have eternal Life with your children". Even though God has asked me to do this, I'm not ready. Maybe in time, but not today.

Mr. Johnson, one thing I do want to ask you, if you were in our place and this had happened to you, would you take your children's place? Would you die for your children? If I could only turn the clock back, I would die for my children. Our children were our life and world to us.

Mr. Johnson, it doesn't make any difference what the courts decide to do. It will never be enough. It won't bring our John and Melissa back to us or to their child. Our children will never be here on this earth with us again, just in our hearts and all of our memories of them. What's five years out of your life?

Mr. Carl Brune Johnson, Jr., lawyers, judges, friends and family members can't even start to help you. The only one is God.

(Statement read by Elsie King in court on September 21, 1998, mother of John King, mother-in-law of Melissa King, grandmother of Justin King, 8 months old at the time of his parent's death.)