September 10, 2007

School crossing death haunts mom

BY Lynn L. Martin

Ten students were killed in street crossing accidents in the Tampa, Florida area in the last school year, according to Alva resident Yvonne Rutledge.

Yvonne should know. Yvonne worked four years at Tampa General Hospital as a surgical tech in the trauma unit.

"We had 32 operating rooms; it was a big place," she said.

The night of February 27th, 16-year-old daughter, Lindsey had not returned home from a scheduled extracurricular ROTC meeting at Bloomingdale High School.

With a metro area population of 2.6 million, Tampa is not a community where everybody knows everybody. Yvonne had borrowed her daughter's cell phone that morning because of a dead battery in her own, so Lindsey could not be reached the usual way.

Yvonne was at work at the hospital. By 9 p.m. When Lindsey had not returned home from the ROTC meeting, Yvonne’s husband, Mark Rutledge went looking for her. After no luck in finding her, they frantically decided to call 911and file a missing person's report.

Tears streamed down Yvonne's face as she told the story.

"In Florida, the thumb print on each driver's license is stored in a statewide computer system. We called 911 to report a "missing person." Two hours later a detective showed up at our door to tell us our daughter had been in a fatal street crossing accident," said Yvonne.

THE ACCIDENT

As Lindsey left the house to attend an ROTC meeting, her grandmother noticed that she was wearing her MP3 music player and earphones. Yvonne and Mark Rutledge fear that may have contributed to the accident.

Lindsey was adamant that she could not miss the testing that was to take place at her ROTC meeting.. In her hurry, she skipped using the marked pedestrian crosswalk, and attempted to cross the residential neighborhood street in mid-block.

At the same time, a 15 year-old driver with a three-day old learner's permit was getting a driving lesson from his dad, who fussed at him to slow down.

Lindsey was struck at 43 mph and killed instantly, the result of a fatal concussion.

THE FUNERAL

A standing room only crowd showed up for the funeral at the New Life church. Since Lindsey loved being in the high school band, the family hoped the band might provide music at the funeral.

After the band director asked for volunteers to play, 293 students out of 300 offered to perform. The 400 seat church couldn't handle that many so the band ended up as a quartet.

The ROTC provided an honor guard.

Lindsey, like her Dad, had planned on a military career, hoping to end up with a veterinarian specialty.

HOME, WHERE IT IS SAFE

The Rutledge family was so devastated that both parents quit their jobs, gathered up their other three children and moved back to Alva which Mark and Yvonne remember as being "safe."

Yvonne grew up in Alva and graduated with the AHS class of 1982. Her mother, Mattie Keele, still lives here.

After trying her wings for a while at Cal State - Fullerton, Yvonne returned to Alva and started attending NWOSU. She met Mark in Alva while he was visiting here on military leave. Five months later they married.

Mark's career had been Air Force. The family lived in Wichita, Kan., Abilene, Texas, and finally in Tampa where Mark was stationed at McDill Air Force base.

Since leaving the military, he commutes to Enid, working for a private contractor at Vance Air Force base. Yvonne has yet to find a job.

NEW JOB: CROSSING GUARD AT SCHOOL

Yvonne said, "At the time of Lindsey's death, I was furious the driver didn't get a ticket. I was very angry. But something happened in Alva last week that made me realize it was more of a 50-50 deal regarding my daughter's fatality.”

Sophia Rutledge, age 7, attends Alva's Washington School. She heard that French toast was to be served for breakfast and wanted to eat at school instead of at home.

"We were running a bit late," said Yvonne, "So instead of walking like I usually do, I drove to school."

Yvonne parked her vehicle next to the vacuum shop on the corner. She continued, "My intention was to walk around the car and escort my daughter across the street at the school crossing. I told her to hang on for a minute.”

VISIONS OF FRENCH TOAST

Visions of French toast must have overtaken Sophia's mind. She started to cross the street in front of a truck.

Yvonne grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

“The truck driver motioned us to go ahead and cross. As we made our way across, a blue car attempted to pass the truck on the right by veering up into the north Washington school parking spaces,” Yvonne said.

"Even though what she was doing was illegal, the lady held up her hand for me to stop," an exasperated Yvonne said.

"I noticed there were no crossing guards that day and that really upset me. I went inside to talk to the principal. She said that they were trying to get some crossing guards but didn't have enough staff that morning. She suggested I go and talk to the Superintendent. I did. They had it fixed by that evening.

Since they were short-handed, Yvonne volunteered to help out in the morning.

“So far, I've been here every morning since I volunteered . . . about two weeks,” she said. “Both the principal and the superintendent could not have been more concerned or helpful. In fact, they have been amazing. They both have come by and thanked me for the volunteer work.”

“If more parents would volunteer at the school where their child attends, it would be great for the community. Even Alva Middle School could use some help,” she added.

Principal Tracy Leeper agreed. She said, “Many of the budget cuts the district is having to make reduces the number of non-certified employees who were helpful in taking a few minutes each day to help on cross-walk duties. We would love to have more volunteers. I also agree with Yvonne I see a lot of dangerous student drop-offs at Alva Middle School. They don’t have a circle drive like the three elementary sites.”

YVONNE’S GOAL

Yvonne's main campaign is to convince parents not to drop their children off in mid-block, where they have to cross unguarded lanes of traffic. She urges them to unload children at either the painted crossing lanes, where a crossing-guard is stationed, or at the designated school unloading zones. When a parent pulls up starting to deposit a kid in mid block, Yvonne hurries out to ask the parent not to do that.

She waves her "STOP" sign to get their attention, and says, "Please drop your child at the crosswalk. If you want I will take their hand and help them across."

She observes mid-block dropping off of small children four or five times a day.

ANY PROBLEMS?

In Alva, jay-walking is considered to be a constitutional right permitted because of a few very lengthy blocks. Few citizens can resist the temptation to cross in the middle of the block on the downtown square . . . from the courthouse to Holder Drug or Rialto. Because of the obvious community consensus, jaywalking is not a law enforced by the local police.

HOW IS YVONNE RUTLEDGE FARING IN GOING AGAINST THE GRAIN?

When asked how citizens are cooperating, Rutledge said, "I've had a couple of parents nod to indicate they understand. I've had a couple of people laugh at me; and, a couple of people who have given me dirty looks. I respond by smiling and saying, 'Thank you, mom, or Thank you, dad.' Moving the vehicle to a safe crossing zone only costs four or five seconds of time," she said, "and it could save your child's life.

"I think most of us parents (and I've been guilty, too) forget to teach our children that a car is a dangerous device. If we hold a gun in our hand, we teach our children to be very careful; when we're in the kitchen, we teach children safety with sharp knives; but when we pile into the car, we talk on cell phones, turn up the radio loud, and eat or drink while handling this dangerous vehicle.

While a trauma tech at Tampa General Hospital, she estimated that four out of ten injuries involved some type of incident with a vehicle.

NO MORE MISMATCHED SOCKS

How has the family fared with the loss of a daughter?

"All of us, including the three children, have fought bouts of depression. There's not a day that goes by where I don't wonder what I could have done. Lindsey was a daddy's girl. They would go out and work on the car together . . . she was a tomboy. She was my oldest son, Robert's, best friend.

“When I sometimes assigned too many chores to Lindsey, she would retaliate by pairing up my socks in a mismatched fashion. The last day of her life, I got up at 6 a.m. and put on a ridiculous mismatch of socks. I went to her bedroom, stuck my feet in her face, and said, 'Can you tell me where the other pair is?’ She didn't know, but she told me she loved me, gave me a hug and kiss. A few minutes later, she left for school. I hugged her again, and she said, "Have a good day."

That was the last time the mom saw her daughter alive.

“By the way, we love living in Alva.”