e15m

Enter my room, and the first thing that you are likely to notice is the increasing collection of laptops strewn about my floor. From there, your eyes may snap to the 6 or so desktop pc's that I have shoved in a corner. Turning left, the wall adjacent to my bed is absolutely covered in random trinkets from the past few years.

The paraphernalia across my wall appears rather normal, pictures, ticket stubs, posters, etc. Looking toward the top right of the collection, you'll notice a lone piece of paper covered in a strange red substance.

The sheet of paper was given to me by my Grandfather. Apparently, I looked rather unhappy the time I saw him before he gave it to me.

This piece of paper probably would have been tossed aside and eventually into the trash if it weren't for a night, in late 2009 that my Dad and I got into a rather serious disagreement. The paper was on the counter next to a glass of wine, and when I turned around to exit the house in a fury I knocked the glass over, spilling the wine onto the paper. The stain serves as a constant reminder of that night, and how we got past the argument.

Upon the sheet are a few short paragraphs:



I get the most out of the second to last line, life is 10% what happens, and 90% how we react to it.



A few months back, I was a friend's house, I didn't know anybody all that well but I assumed they were decent people. A few of them disappeared into a bathroom, and after a minute or two called for me to join them. I entered, and took a place near the back.

It was then I noticed a home made bong next to the sink.

They smiled, and one of them produced a small bag of marijuana from their pocket.

My parents were out of town for the entire week, and I could have just smoked that shit with no real consequences.

It was one of those situations we've been hearing about since elementary school, where peer pressure mounts up and it seems like giving in is the only option. Then, the 10/90 rule popped into my head.

I could have gotten high that night with the rest of them, and I probably would have had a dandy time doing so.

Peer pressure would have merely been my excuse for giving in. However, like I previously said, that would only have been 10% of the problem, and the other 90 would have been me.

So I laughed it off and said no thanks, and after a few more pleas, I exited the bathroom and a few minutes later made an excuse to go home.

I don't really hang out with that group anymore.

This year, I have lost count of the amount of people I know who have suddenly decided drinking and smoking are the coolest things to do, because everyone else is doing it as well.

I'm hoping that yesterday's Every 15 Minutes presentation helps everyone that they control a good 90% of their life.



A few short weeks following the incident in the bathroom, I found myself in Mr. Neid's room for an Every 15 Minutes meeting. The next few months seemed to race by, and suddenly it was April 29th: The day I died.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the e15m program, Ill give a quick overview.

10 years ago, someone was dying of an alcohol related traffic collision every 15 minutes. Nowadays, that number has been to about 45 minutes, partially thanks to programs such as e15m. The program is targeted directly at high school seniors. Near the end of the school year, 12 boys and 12 girls are selected to "die" from a drunk driver hitting them on the road. So, every 15 minutes of the school day, a student dies in the middle of the class. Dying, in this situation, means EMT's entering the room with a stretcher, and a man dressed as the Grim Reaper standing next to the dying student while their obituary is read to the class. After the obit is read, the student leaves class, has their face painted white and black, puts on a black cloak, and returns to class, dead.

For the rest of the day, dead students can't talk, or interact with their peers in any way. Cell phones are taken to really give the impression that they are no longer able to communicate.


So, on Thursday, April 29th, I was hit by a drunk driver and killed.


I didn't know what class I was supposed to die in. So, everytime the door opened during first and second hour, my heart started beating to the point where it was the only thing I could hear.

I died in the middle of my third hour class. While Mrs. Rader was going over homework with us, a stretcher was brought in and a girl read my obituary, all while the Grim Reaper stood patiently behind me.

My obituary:

Sean Kennedy, age 17 of Richland, passed away Thursday April 29^th as a result of a drunk driving collision. On his way home from work at the Columbia Basin Racquet Club, Sean was hit by a highly intoxicated driver in a large SUV on Keene road. After being rushed to Kadlec General Hospital in a critical state, Sean passed away in the late hours of the day.

Born July 22^nd, 1992, Sean is the son of Jennifer and Wallace Kennedy, and the younger of two siblings.

Sean began life at Kadlec General Hospital in Richland, Washington. From birth till death, he was a Richland resident, attending Marcus Whitman Elementary, Carmichael Middle School, and Richland High where he was a senior. During his experience at Richland High, Sean swam on the Boy's Swim team three out of four years. He made large contributions to RHS by working on the yearbook as a member of the Columbian staff, and wrote for the school newspaper, The Sandstorm. Outside of school Sean was involved in Bethel Church, always attending a Wednesday small group session. He worked at the Columbia Basin Racquet club, where his limitless patience let him excel in the field of child care provision.

Recently being accepted to Washington State University, Sean planned to attend the Pullman campus and study computer engineering, after which he planned to return to the Tri-Cities and find work.

Sean is survived by his mother and father, older sister, several grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

It is a tragic occurrence whenever such a young a person is taken in such an avoidable way. Sean's easily embarrassed attitude, quirky sense of humor, and generally kind lifestyle will be missed by all who knew him.

Silence was never so loud to me as the few seconds in which my obituary was read. I walked robotically to the stretcher which transported me to the library to get makeup and a cloak.

The rest of the school day passed incredibly slowly. I stared at the white board during the remainder of math, getting strange looks from classmates every once in a while. Yearbook was dreadfully boring, Kramer and I sat in our usual places and acted...dead.

Fifth hour was probably the hardest for me. People made comments about how they would have nothing to do that night, because I wouldn't be writing a blog while dead. Things like that where sort of nice to hear, but at the same time it made it apparent that no one was really taking it seriously...Yet.

Obviously, I wasn't the only one who died. About 20 other students had similar experiences, many of which where far more emotional than mine. All of us had become a team by the end of the day, and to everyone involed: You did an amazing job. When I saw other dead students in the hall, all I could think about was how they looked freaky as hell with the makeup.

After school, the team met up at the auditorium and removed makeup. At this point we began to practice the skit that was prepared for Friday's assembly.

From school, we went to the Red Lion for the night. Everyone ate their weight in pizza and Famous Dave's, and then we did a few stress relieving games.

After this, the night took a turn for the depressing.

We first listened to a woman who lost her sister to a drunk driver about 8 years ago. By the end, most people had began to tear up a bit, I was on the edge of losing it throughout her speech.

Directly after her presentation, our school's police officer, Officer Clark, gave us the play by play of her trip to Megan and Hayden's houses, where she informed their parents of the death.

The parents and police both knew that it was a staged event, but that didn't turn out to mean much when it came time for the police to inform parents that their children had died at the the hands of a drunk driver. When she had finished, there were a total of 2 people in the room not crying.

Hayden and Megan, following Clark's speech, where to write letters to their parents to read on stage the next day. Jed Morris, the guy in charge of the e15m program at RHS, told us that we should do the same, and gave us all a paper and a pen.

I ended up writing a letter to a different family member, and I finished before the other people in my hotel room. It was about 10 at this point, and the room was absolutely silent. I couldn't handle it, and so I wandered the hotel for a bit, eventually stopping in a different room of guys from the group until around 12. Throughout the course of my time in there, most of the male group members also ended up in the room, and we all just sort of talked for about 2 hours about nothing in particular. It was nice, and I think it managed to bring everyone's spirit up significantly.

Finally, after 12 had passed, everyone was back in their rooms. Roughly five minutes into laying down, I was in an extremely deep sleep until I was awoken at 5:45 to start the day.

After breakfast and packing, we were whisked back to the school to practice our skit a few more times.

I have to say, again, to everyone involved, we did great. It was the first time a lot of us where on stage. I want to especially thank Tyler, Tasha, Bailey, and Rachel for giving me goosebumps during their time on stage, you guys did great.

After the skit, a lot of people in the audience felt uncomfortable. The next item on the agenda was Hayden and Megan reading their letters to their parents, and their parents doing the same to their children. This was the point when most people began to have tears stream down their face.

Last, the mother of Sami Semmern, a young lady who was killed by a drunk driver in 2002, gave a speech to RHS's senior class.

By the end of her speech, the amount of people in the audience without tears in their eyes probably could have been counted on one hand.

Officer Clark then went on stage, and asked the students who wished to pledge to never drink and drive to stand.

At this point, the group of students who had died was in the audience, and we arose first and faced our classmates, who in turn stood as well.

This concluded the program, and we where free to go and talk to our peers.

The auditorium became messy with emotion, in a good way.

At this point we got our phones back, and we all sort of came back to life.

The rest of the day passed quickly and pleasantly.

By the time I arrived home around 12 last night, I could barely keep my eyes open. I got into bed, and as soon as my head hit my pillow, my nose of course began spouting blood.

All I remember thinking is "Great, now I have to get up and stop this before I can sleep."

But I never got up, by the end of that thought process I was out. I woke up this morning with dried blood on my sheets, but I think it was worth it for the extra 10 minutes of sleep I got before work this morning.


So out of this short novel of a blog, I'd like all of my friends who have delved into the practice of drinking alcohol and/or using drugs, to please remember that when you are offered these substances, the choice is 90% yours to turn them down.



Once more, I'd like to congratulate the group who participated in the Every 15 Minutes program. We did great, we pulled together quickly and efficiently and made an incredible team, and I really think we had a strong impact on our classmates.

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