A young life was lost several days ago. Many of our teenagers worked alongside Issac at Rosario Resort and talked to him on one of his last nights. It is a heavy thing, and leaves a long-lasting impression – especially on young people unaccustomed to death – when someone is here one day and gone the next. Who is accustomed to death?
As I was driving home the other night, I turned on the radio and searched for a station with a song. As I was passing by the scene of the accident, a song came on that I had never heard called “Beautiful Mistakes.” There are a lot of pop songs I’ve never heard. I could be wrong, as I turned it off quickly, but I think it was glamorizing the things we do that we may one day regret but that feel so good in the moment. Culture loves to glamorize things we’ll most likely regret later.
When I passed the flowers and dedications on the road, I pulled over to see what happened, and I feel so sorry for the family that has to live with the fatal results of just one night’s mistakes. We all make mistakes.
I remembered a night that I usually don’t even think about. I was about 27 years old and visiting one of the beach cities in the LA area for an outrigger competition with fellow friends and teammates. I had no idea that when these big outrigger meets end, a huge party commences at a local bar. I’ve never been a drinker and I hate drugs, and am usually quickly disenchanted by inebriation and peer pressure. While everyone around me was wildly celebrating, I asked the bartender if there was any drink I could get that didn’t taste too alcoholic. He handed me a Long Island ice tea and I drank it slowly. Nevertheless, being a lightweight from never drinking, I was quickly affected.
Awhile later, I figured I was clear to drive and persuaded my friends to come back to Santa Barbara with me that night instead of sleeping on a stranger’s carpet in our sleeping bags. I really wanted to go right home and sleep in my own bed. One of my friends pulled me aside and lightheartedly explained to me that I would not be driving home – neither with them, nor by myself. I was frustrated to stay where we were, but when I got down on the floor to lie in my bag, my head swirled and I immediately realized I was nowhere near sober yet.
In that moment, I was struck by something I had never felt before. My friend saved my life that night. I went to sleep and awakened to a beautiful, sunny morning and lighthearted moods all around. We hopped in the car, turned on the music, and laughingly drove home, enjoying ourselves and the beauty of the day. One near-mistake was swiftly averted, and I never had to think about that night again. At least not in a bad way.
Some people don’t get a second chance. I don’t know the details of what happened, and I have no idea whether drinking was involved – that’s part of my own story, but I do know that a young man was driving over 100 miles an hour in the night. Enough to miss a strong left turn. Enough to accidentally launch off a dirt berm in front of him and clear the road and the guardrail put there to keep drivers out of a pond. That could have just as easily been me – perhaps you too – in some other place under some similar circumstance.
I pulled over and quietly looked at the last part of the road that Issac drove.
We mourn with his family as they grieve. We islanders have only love for them. Our children worked alongside him. Their hearts are full of love for his family too. Our arms open to hold them, even from afar.
We will keep Issac’s memory, even if we never met him. We are so, so sorry for your loss.
Add your kindnesses to the roadside memorial too.
Thank you for helping the community remember Isaac and his family.
Thanks for sharing your experience. Life is precious; we should cherish it and the people around us, and support and help others as your friend did.