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| RealLife | October 23, 2001 |
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Then There Was Three Sunday, April 24, 1988 - Noon The day began typically in the Sopshier family. Always on Sunday we would pile into the car with the 4 of us making our weekly excursion to town. Lunch at McDonalds followed by an afternoon of browsing at Walmart. This particular day, Stacy, who had just turned 6, spotted a gorgeous bicycle with training wheels. Since payday wasn't for 5 days, her daddy promised to buy that bike the following weekend. This simple explanation of not having the money until Friday satisfied her because she knew her daddy would keep his promise. Monday, April 25, 1988
As usual, after coming home from work, Bobby loaded up his rifle to go groundhog hunting. Since this was garden planting time, people were always calling Bobby to come shoot the groundhogs which wrecked havoc on gardens crops. Stacy and Amy were home trying to catch up on schoolwork. I was taking classes at the local community college, and I had a composition paper due the next day.
The girls were both asleep. I had just finished writing my paper and retired for the night. Bobby was still not home but this was nothing unusual. The phone rang at 10:30 and Amy answered it because she had an extension in her room. She came into my bedroom telling me her great-uncle called and said, "I heard your Daddy was killed tonight." I responded by telling her to go back to bed because the uncle "doesn't know what he's talking about." By this time I was getting worried. I laid back down and tried to go to sleep but couldn't. Tuesday, April 26, 1988
Someone was knocking on the door, so I got out of bed to see who would be doing this in the middle of the night. Upon opening the door, I immediately recognized one of the county deputies. My worst nightmare was coming true. Our dog was barking which woke up the girls. The deputy proceeded to tell the three of us that Bobby was indeed killed in a tragic car accident which also took the life of another man. I'm sure our screams were heard throughout the neighborhood. Stacy, my daughter who just turned 6, was really scared and unsure of what was happening. In this quiet and meek voice, she asked me, "mom, will I still get the bicycle at Walmart?" I assured her no matter what happened the bike would be hers and I meant it.
After spending part of the day at the funeral home, I decided visitation that night would only include immediate family members. By this time, my mom had arrived from Alabama and if it wasn't for her...I don't know how I would have survived. It was ironic that this day also happened to be my mom's 62nd birthday. Wednesday, April 27, 1988
It was now time for public viewing and visitation. Over 1000 people filed by the casket paying their last respects to Bobby. The outpouring of community support is one thing I will always be grateful for. But I could not ignore the fact that across town at another funeral home family members were also mourning the loss of their loved one...the other man killed. Thursday, April 28, 1988 Even though the day was gorgeous with springtime in the air, without a doubt, this was the worst day of my life. I don't remember too much about the actual services because my mind was fuzzy with grief. Since Bobby was a veteran of the Vietnam War, I decided a 21-gun salute would be appropriate. With the first firing of the guns, I was okay even though it seemed like an eternity. But when the loud noises would not stop, I started crying and repeatedly telling my mom, "make them quit." On this day, my husband of 16 years and the father of my two daughters was laid to rest, buried beside his father. Sunday, May 1, 1988 With the typical Sundays of the past now gone since there was no longer the 4 of us, we made a special trip to Walmart. The bicycle, with the training wheels, was loaded into a shopping cart. Though her daddy was not there to keep his previous promise of the week before...I made sure the bike was hers. |
