Victim Impact Statement on the Loss of Greg Vasich
Jenny Ketchmark
July 8, 2005
The day that Greg was killed, I lost everything: my boyfriend, my best friend,
my support and strength, the love of my life, and the person who understood me
more than anyone ever had. I lost my optimism and my love of the world. I lost
my future, my present and a huge part of myself.
Greg and I loved each other very much and shared a special connection since the
time we first met. We became friends when we were 14 year old freshman in high
school. We remained good friends throughout high school and eventually started
dating before our senior year. We were together most of college. We broke up for
a short time due to distance, but we remained friends and got back together in
May 2001, after our sophomore year. We had been together ever since.
I loved Greg for many reasons. He was an amazing individual. He was kind,
compassionate, loving and smart, funny and patient, and adventurous with an
unmatched love of life. Greg inspired me and challenged me to be a better
person. He was so good to the core and he had a full and bright future ahead of
him.
I don’t know where to begin describing for you the horror and grief that hit me
when my phone rang just after 7:15 am on April 9, 2004. It was my parents
calling to tell me that there had been a serious accident and that Greg had
died. He had been rushed to the hospital, but it was too late; there was nothing
the doctors could do. The words were so simple and yet I couldn’t believe them.
Greg was my everything. He was the most important part of my life and he
couldn’t be gone. I didn’t know how to be in this world without him. Although we
didn’t live in the same city, Greg and I never went a day without talking. We
emailed several times a day, talked for over an hour every night and saw one
another every weekend. That very afternoon I was planning on driving home to
Naperville to meet him for lunch and to spend the Easter weekend with our
families. But that, in addition to our many other plans, were taken from me that
morning.
Greg and I were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together. We had been
counting down the days to my college graduation. I had just over a month left.
After that, Greg and I were going to begin spending our daily lives together. We
had been planning a 6 week trip to Europe that summer. Greg and I were then
planning to move to Minneapolis. I had a job and Greg wanted to try out law
school. We both believed we would get married, our parents and friends felt the
same way. Greg was already a part of my family and I was a part of his. We had
talked about getting engaged but didn’t think there was a need to rush; we
thought we had all of the time in the world.
Since Greg was killed, my life has changed dramatically. I am no longer the
happy go lucky, optimistic person I once was. The future I had looked forward to
has been ripped away from me. I am now confronted daily with loneliness and
grief. I am supposed to be living through some of the most exciting experiences
of my life and instead I feel a constant emptiness. During my college graduation
I didn’t feel like I had very much to celebrate. It was supposed to be a
moving-on ceremony, a wonderful beginning to the rest of my life, but I now feel
the world I have moved on to is lonely and cruel. Moving to Minneapolis and
starting my first job should have been filled with fun and excitement. It would
have been, if I had Greg with me to share the experience. When I had to do it
all alone, it suddenly became an overwhelming challenge instead of an exciting
adventure.
There are also moments when I feel guilty. I had debated about coming home
Thursday night, April 8th, 2004, the night before Greg was killed, but an
unfinished project kept me at school. If I had come home on Thursday night would
Greg and I still have gone to Evanston? And if we had, would we have avoided
that intersection? If I had come home earlier would Greg still be here with us?
On top of my grief, I am angry. Greg’s death was unfair and unnecessary. Greg
didn’t do anything wrong and yet he was taken from this world while he still had
so much of his life to live. He should be here with his family, and with his
friends. He should have been here for all of our graduations and for my first
day of work. He should be here to play trombone in the Marching Illini alumni
band and to congratulate two of our best friends on their engagement. He should
be here with all of us, living out his dreams.
I’m trying to keep Greg in my life with pictures, scrapbooks, and hundreds of
emails. I cherish the letters he wrote, the books he read, the movies he
watched, and the board games he loved. I have stuffed animals, old t-shirts, a
music box and a baseball signed by Royce Clayton. I have countless happy
memories, but no matter how much I think about him or look at his picture it
doesn’t bring his laughter back into my life. It doesn’t even begin fill the
hole torn from my daily life or the one torn from our future.
Greg didn’t have to die and there is no way to bring him back, but we can and
must punish this senseless tragedy and do what we can to deter others who might
cause such pain.