Due to the overwhelming response and, no doubt, all the questions about the circumstances surrounding, I should like to explain the events leading to the situation I found myself in leading to my posting "Dead Meat."
I am a 135 pilot in a C-310R, flying mostly checks at night. Since I had the days open, I was working as a CFI, and when things started to slow down, I picked up a full-time load at Holy Cross College in Notre Dame, Indiana. In June of last year, I met a wonderful girl named Amy and before too long we were talking marriage. Between school, flying nights, flight instructing, my girlfriend, and trying to get a 4.0 (although only getting a 3.92), I didn't have much time for anything. Things were going well with Amy and I, although she wondered where I was going with school and us. I told her of my intentions to continue school for 3 more years and then get into politics which she lacked enthusasim for. She wanted to get married and start a family (as did I), but this all was putting a time-delay on that. She was pushing 30 and I'm 25, so there is a slight difference in age, and the associated panic to start a family.
Then there was this girl at school who took a liking to me. Although I didn't encourage her whatsoever, I did not shoot her down like I should have. She is unhappily married and a mother of two, and my best effort at shooting her down was telling her that I didn't touch married women. On Christmas break (2003), she wrote me a note wherein she confesses a "schoolgirl-like crush" on me, as well as a few other confessions such as wanting to grab me and kiss me. Needless to say, I was shocked, and I believed she was doing this because she liked to see me blush. I didn't take it serious, and stuffed the note away in my bag. One day, I left my bag at Amy's house and she, as always, went to hide a note in my bag for me to find later. She came upon this note and hit the roof. When she called me to confront me about the note, she was infuriated, but I told her to read the note carefully. The girl said that she wanted to do all these things to me, BUT I gave her "nothing to go on." I wasn't encouraging her, but Amy pointed out that I clearly hadn't discouraged her... and she was right. So I promised to resolve the issue and confront the girl, which I did, and she left me alone.
February proved to be a tough month, Amy was sad a lot and had mood-swings. She'd been suffering from insomnia since she was 15, and still got only 2-3 hours of sleep a night, if at all. She'd catch colds or run a temprature more that the average person, and was simply more emotional. I could go on and on about all the signs that I missed, but I don't have the time.
In mid-February, I took delivery of a C-152 to start a flying club and make a few extra bucks. Of course, not more than 2 weeks later, I was in a hurry for a 5:00am lesson after flying checks all night and I left the tow-bar on the nosewheel. The bill came to $9,600 for a prop and engine inspection. I'd helped Amy with her taxes and being persistant and somewhat creative, we got her $1500 back. She immediately offered $1000 to help with the plane, that was just her style, always giving, even though she had nothing. (FYI, insurance is paying for most of the bill)
Although I was frustrated with the way things were going with school, my plane, and Amy's emotions, I was more concerned with my personal situation (being unable to marry her because of my finances, school, and doubts I was having about Amy's dependence on me for self-worth). Amy was also having a hard time coming over to my parent's house because she wanted everything to go perfectly. She would get very nervous and uptight, and at one point, had a pannic attack. She also was a very jealous girlfriend, didn't like me hanging out with my lady friends, and even thought my relationship with my sister was "weird." With all that playing against us, I decided that we needed to seperate and have some time to ourselves. I was also having a bit of a personal low. Amy took the news very hard and refused to let me break things off. She said she wanted to be here for me, just like I had been for her when she was down and out. I insisted, and on Thursday, March 4th, I broke up with her. She continued to call, write, and come over to try to salvage our relationship, but to no avail. I needed this break.
On Saturday, March 6th, Amy had gone grocery shopping, got an oil change, and called a few superficial friends (who seemed too busy to talk), and told one that she had to go, but she'd call her back; she had to go to the hangar to do something, but she'd call back. She never did. I live in an office in the hangar and was gone for the weekend, but she went into my office, found my folder full of all the notes she'd ever written me, and parked the car inside the corporate-sized hanger with the folder sitting next to her. At some point, she took about 14 xanex anti-anxiety pills. She taped a garden hose to the tailpipe, taped it into the rear window on her Jeep and taped the window airtight, got inside, wrote me a goodbye note on the folder, hit play on the CD player with Sarah McLaughlin on, and started the car.
That following week was the worst week of my life. I miss her so badly, and I don't think that if she was alive I would have been able to go a month without her. Her problems could have been solved with a therapist, and our differences could have been worked out. She was my best friend, and my life has been so lonely without her here. I went to the funeral home the following Monday and had a private viewing, just Amy and I. She looked like sh!t. They had her makeup all wrong and she just looked old. I cried so long and hard, and I kept looking at her chest, expecting to see it rise and fall with her breath, but she never moved. I touched her hair, and held her hand, but it just didn't bring comfort. Dam, even now, I can't believe that she's gone. For the past six weeks, I keep feeling like she's on the other side of every door, just around the next corner, or standing right behind me. My brain knows that she's gone, but my heart wants to believe that she's just far enough away that I can't see her.
Anyhow, on Tuesday, March 9th, they had her viewing. I caught up with Amy's best friends from Truckee and we hugged and cried. We all went together to the viewing. It was great to meet the people who she'd talked so much about, and it felt like I'd known them for the past nine months. At the viewing, we stood out in the hallway talking to some of her other friends and then turned to go into the viewing. Her friends walked in, but at the doorway, an usher, a big guy, put his arm out on my chest and stopped me. "No way, huh-uh... I don't think so." I was not allowed in. I turned away, dumbfounded. I told one of her friends that I thought I was being kicked out when Amy's brother pulled me aside. He walked me down the hall quite a ways, away from the crowd, and told me that a few people in the family are holding me responsible for this. He and I had talked the night before and he warned me about this, and I know that he wasn't one of them, but I was just shocked and hurt. He told me that I could come back between viewings. I did, and it was a good thing that very few people were there, because I bawled. I cried up at the casket for 10-15 minutes, and I don't know who they were, but 4 or 5 people came up and tried comforting me (always bringing a handful of kleenex).
The next day was the funeral, and again, it was tough. I made more noise than I'd have liked with my running nose and muffled sobs. The rest of the week was a blur. Fortunately, that week was my spring break, and I didn't miss any school, and I tried returning when school resumed the following Monday.
On Wednesday, March 17th, the married girl who'd written me the note, got a phone call from her husband. He'd just gotten off the phone with "an annynomous caller" who told him that he was calling on behalf of Amy's family and asked if he was aware that his wife and I were having an affair. Clearly he hadn't, and he was dumbfounded. The caller went on explaining that he was just calling to gather information and that the family holds me responsible for Amy's death. They "had proof" that I was having an affair with this woman and they were going to "blindside" me, though I never touched the woman. I was going to end up floating in the river (where most murdered people turn up in this area) and that anyone around me is liable to be "hit with a stray bullet." The caller also stated that he wouldn't be surprised if Amy's mom (who is a florist) ended up doing the flowers for my funeral.
My greiving was stopped cold in its tracks and I went into a full defence mode. I started carrying my 9mm and a friend gave me a bulletproof vest which I started wearing religiously. Unfortunately, the more I dug, the more I realized that the caller had to have been a cop, or a friend of a cop, because of the detailed information he had. I was scared for my life, although I was determined not to let these bastards get to me. I stayed in school and tried my hardest to keep my focus, but I couldn't help but feel like I was going crazy. Very few people believed me, and my best friends started to think that I was making this up for attention, so I just quit talking to them. I told everyone I thought was having a hard time with this that I was just fine and everything was going well, but my stomach was in knots and I started writing goodbye notes to my family.
To Be Continued...
I am a 135 pilot in a C-310R, flying mostly checks at night. Since I had the days open, I was working as a CFI, and when things started to slow down, I picked up a full-time load at Holy Cross College in Notre Dame, Indiana. In June of last year, I met a wonderful girl named Amy and before too long we were talking marriage. Between school, flying nights, flight instructing, my girlfriend, and trying to get a 4.0 (although only getting a 3.92), I didn't have much time for anything. Things were going well with Amy and I, although she wondered where I was going with school and us. I told her of my intentions to continue school for 3 more years and then get into politics which she lacked enthusasim for. She wanted to get married and start a family (as did I), but this all was putting a time-delay on that. She was pushing 30 and I'm 25, so there is a slight difference in age, and the associated panic to start a family.
Then there was this girl at school who took a liking to me. Although I didn't encourage her whatsoever, I did not shoot her down like I should have. She is unhappily married and a mother of two, and my best effort at shooting her down was telling her that I didn't touch married women. On Christmas break (2003), she wrote me a note wherein she confesses a "schoolgirl-like crush" on me, as well as a few other confessions such as wanting to grab me and kiss me. Needless to say, I was shocked, and I believed she was doing this because she liked to see me blush. I didn't take it serious, and stuffed the note away in my bag. One day, I left my bag at Amy's house and she, as always, went to hide a note in my bag for me to find later. She came upon this note and hit the roof. When she called me to confront me about the note, she was infuriated, but I told her to read the note carefully. The girl said that she wanted to do all these things to me, BUT I gave her "nothing to go on." I wasn't encouraging her, but Amy pointed out that I clearly hadn't discouraged her... and she was right. So I promised to resolve the issue and confront the girl, which I did, and she left me alone.
February proved to be a tough month, Amy was sad a lot and had mood-swings. She'd been suffering from insomnia since she was 15, and still got only 2-3 hours of sleep a night, if at all. She'd catch colds or run a temprature more that the average person, and was simply more emotional. I could go on and on about all the signs that I missed, but I don't have the time.
In mid-February, I took delivery of a C-152 to start a flying club and make a few extra bucks. Of course, not more than 2 weeks later, I was in a hurry for a 5:00am lesson after flying checks all night and I left the tow-bar on the nosewheel. The bill came to $9,600 for a prop and engine inspection. I'd helped Amy with her taxes and being persistant and somewhat creative, we got her $1500 back. She immediately offered $1000 to help with the plane, that was just her style, always giving, even though she had nothing. (FYI, insurance is paying for most of the bill)
Although I was frustrated with the way things were going with school, my plane, and Amy's emotions, I was more concerned with my personal situation (being unable to marry her because of my finances, school, and doubts I was having about Amy's dependence on me for self-worth). Amy was also having a hard time coming over to my parent's house because she wanted everything to go perfectly. She would get very nervous and uptight, and at one point, had a pannic attack. She also was a very jealous girlfriend, didn't like me hanging out with my lady friends, and even thought my relationship with my sister was "weird." With all that playing against us, I decided that we needed to seperate and have some time to ourselves. I was also having a bit of a personal low. Amy took the news very hard and refused to let me break things off. She said she wanted to be here for me, just like I had been for her when she was down and out. I insisted, and on Thursday, March 4th, I broke up with her. She continued to call, write, and come over to try to salvage our relationship, but to no avail. I needed this break.
On Saturday, March 6th, Amy had gone grocery shopping, got an oil change, and called a few superficial friends (who seemed too busy to talk), and told one that she had to go, but she'd call her back; she had to go to the hangar to do something, but she'd call back. She never did. I live in an office in the hangar and was gone for the weekend, but she went into my office, found my folder full of all the notes she'd ever written me, and parked the car inside the corporate-sized hanger with the folder sitting next to her. At some point, she took about 14 xanex anti-anxiety pills. She taped a garden hose to the tailpipe, taped it into the rear window on her Jeep and taped the window airtight, got inside, wrote me a goodbye note on the folder, hit play on the CD player with Sarah McLaughlin on, and started the car.
That following week was the worst week of my life. I miss her so badly, and I don't think that if she was alive I would have been able to go a month without her. Her problems could have been solved with a therapist, and our differences could have been worked out. She was my best friend, and my life has been so lonely without her here. I went to the funeral home the following Monday and had a private viewing, just Amy and I. She looked like sh!t. They had her makeup all wrong and she just looked old. I cried so long and hard, and I kept looking at her chest, expecting to see it rise and fall with her breath, but she never moved. I touched her hair, and held her hand, but it just didn't bring comfort. Dam, even now, I can't believe that she's gone. For the past six weeks, I keep feeling like she's on the other side of every door, just around the next corner, or standing right behind me. My brain knows that she's gone, but my heart wants to believe that she's just far enough away that I can't see her.
Anyhow, on Tuesday, March 9th, they had her viewing. I caught up with Amy's best friends from Truckee and we hugged and cried. We all went together to the viewing. It was great to meet the people who she'd talked so much about, and it felt like I'd known them for the past nine months. At the viewing, we stood out in the hallway talking to some of her other friends and then turned to go into the viewing. Her friends walked in, but at the doorway, an usher, a big guy, put his arm out on my chest and stopped me. "No way, huh-uh... I don't think so." I was not allowed in. I turned away, dumbfounded. I told one of her friends that I thought I was being kicked out when Amy's brother pulled me aside. He walked me down the hall quite a ways, away from the crowd, and told me that a few people in the family are holding me responsible for this. He and I had talked the night before and he warned me about this, and I know that he wasn't one of them, but I was just shocked and hurt. He told me that I could come back between viewings. I did, and it was a good thing that very few people were there, because I bawled. I cried up at the casket for 10-15 minutes, and I don't know who they were, but 4 or 5 people came up and tried comforting me (always bringing a handful of kleenex).
The next day was the funeral, and again, it was tough. I made more noise than I'd have liked with my running nose and muffled sobs. The rest of the week was a blur. Fortunately, that week was my spring break, and I didn't miss any school, and I tried returning when school resumed the following Monday.
On Wednesday, March 17th, the married girl who'd written me the note, got a phone call from her husband. He'd just gotten off the phone with "an annynomous caller" who told him that he was calling on behalf of Amy's family and asked if he was aware that his wife and I were having an affair. Clearly he hadn't, and he was dumbfounded. The caller went on explaining that he was just calling to gather information and that the family holds me responsible for Amy's death. They "had proof" that I was having an affair with this woman and they were going to "blindside" me, though I never touched the woman. I was going to end up floating in the river (where most murdered people turn up in this area) and that anyone around me is liable to be "hit with a stray bullet." The caller also stated that he wouldn't be surprised if Amy's mom (who is a florist) ended up doing the flowers for my funeral.
My greiving was stopped cold in its tracks and I went into a full defence mode. I started carrying my 9mm and a friend gave me a bulletproof vest which I started wearing religiously. Unfortunately, the more I dug, the more I realized that the caller had to have been a cop, or a friend of a cop, because of the detailed information he had. I was scared for my life, although I was determined not to let these bastards get to me. I stayed in school and tried my hardest to keep my focus, but I couldn't help but feel like I was going crazy. Very few people believed me, and my best friends started to think that I was making this up for attention, so I just quit talking to them. I told everyone I thought was having a hard time with this that I was just fine and everything was going well, but my stomach was in knots and I started writing goodbye notes to my family.
To Be Continued...
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