JOHN MICHAEL PATRICK I was supposed to die first. Not John Michael, my smart, gregarious older brother who was beloved by everybody. By Prisca Patrick
It happened so fast. That is what every drunk driving crash has in common. For the victims, it comes out of nowhere. It is sudden. It is violent. There is no time to prepare for it. It changes everything in an instant, forever.Every drunk driving crash impacts not just the person injured or killed but all those left behind. My brother and mom were both set to graduate that May from the same college. While John Michael wasn’t given that chance, my mom managed to finish out the semester. When she got her diploma, the school surprised her with my brother’s diploma as well. My mom became an advocate and volunteer for Mothers Against Drunk Driving ® in Mississippi and lobbied at the state capitol in Jackson for an ignition interlock law. She met with state senators and representatives in support of requiring all convicted drunk drivers to use these small, in-car breathalyzer devices,whichrequireasoberbreathsample before the vehicle will start. She still leads the Victim Impact Panels in the Jackson area and has been working with MADD on new legislative initiatives to prevent drunk driving. When I got my first new car, my parents gave me a MADD bumper sticker, and when I moved to Dallas in 2016, I joined MADD North Texas. MADD helped me access free counseling services, which I realized I needed even though time had passed since John Michael’s death. It was rough. But it was great. I’m thankful for MADD for giving me an avenue to share my story, to help others and help me heal. I got more involved with youth and young adults, talking to school-age
I was only 15 months old when doctors diagnosed me with Stage IV brain cancer. The largest tumor stuck to the back of my head the sizeof agolf ball; smaller ones had wrapped themselves around my spine. If I survived surgery, doctors told my parents— and that was unlikely—I would have an IQ no higher than 70. The prognosis was so grim my mom even picked out my funeral dress. Miraculously, I proved them wrong. Three years separated John Michael and me, and we grew up competing with each other in just about everything. Despite the rivalry, John Michael encouraged me when others might have accepted certain limitations in the girl who survived a brain tumor. At one point, I wanted to try out for cheerleading. He told me I could do it. He told me I could do anything, if I just tried it a certain way. He pushed me, even as he protected me. JohnMichael and I were sodifferent.When I say everybody loved John Michael, that is not an exaggeration. In high school, he was the first African American to win the Beauty and Beau contest. He got along with everybody, no matter who they were. He was also very smart and attended our local community college but planned on attending Ole Miss after completing his degree locally. The way I see it now, that decision gave our family more time with him. On March 9, 2007, a repeat drunk driver ran a stoplight, killing John Patrick and his girlfriend, Rosalyn Coleman. He was 19. She was 18.
24 Redefining Our Mission-Victim Stories
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