Drunk Driver Killed My Girlfriend
Both my Mom and I never moved for an hour once parked...Issue # 88
ifOnlyi… had come sooner. All Mom could do was hold me and collect the overwhelming number of tears that wouldn’t stop. I was heartbroken, and the thoughts of my own recklessness were haunting me.
For over seven months, I have been writing and reflecting on the foolishness of my early life experiences. I shared deep personal stories, including my struggles with drinking and driving. The pains I went through to get to this point hurt more than one can imagine, and I know I’m not alone out there.
Some readers chose to stop reading, follow, or unsubscribe because of my stories. That’s perfectly fine, as I needed to reach a point where I could honestly discuss the events that significantly impacted my life.
I began documenting my life’s journey from when I was four years old, as my memories of my first three years are faint. As time passes, I continue to write about the events I remember, making sure to research and fact-check as many details as possible.
I have often expressed that if even one person can say they will not pursue a dangerous path, vow never to drink and drive, or make a positive life change after reading about my recklessness, the pain I caused, and the painful experiences I endured, my writing will be worthwhile. The truth is, I believe I have found a few.
In the final days before my departure to Australia, I asked my Mom if I could spend some time at her home in Rancho Mirage, CA, to bid farewell to Theresa, my girlfriend. To my delight, she replied, "Let’s both go." That was fantastic. She volunteered to drive since I didn't have a car then. It promised to be an amazing weekend. In July, the desert heat can soar above 120 degrees.
We pulled off the 10 freeway towards the desert cities around 6 p.m., and I asked Mom if she would drive through Palm Springs on our way so I could stop at Cecil’s Restaurant and Nightclub.
“Sure, Ollie. It will only take us 15 minutes extra.” Mom replied. I really wanted to see my girlfriend, Theresa, and share my plans as I had written to let her know I was flying out to Australia soon.
Theresa worked as a cocktail waitress in Cecil’s nightclub. It was, without a doubt, the best place in the desert area to work as a waitress. This was the place to earn a great living, and she did very well, the best. We often spent 30 minutes counting her tips for one night. There were wild amounts of money. Yea! About $1200 a night.
Her captivating personality and distinctive looks allowed her to connect with customers, resulting in large tips.
Theresa navigated the bustling nightclub with ease, her contagious smile attracting more attention, which proved to be beneficial.
We pulled up to Cecil's front door. The club was not open yet, but the staff had to come in early to prepare for the night. There was always a minimum wait of at least one to two hours to get in. Otherwise, you bribed the doormen.
I know firsthand that one of the doormen, Bob, who worked there for years, made between $3,000 and $5,000 per night. He made a deal with the owner: no pay, but he would get 100% of all entry fees and 100% of the tips. As he told me, when I saw him a few years back, he also got bags and bags of Cocaine. These were bribes, too. ( It’s what people did back in the '80s.)
He shared his story with me, saying that one pocket was loaded with that stuff, and his other Jacket pocket was full of cash. He also had both of his pants pockets stuffed every night he worked.
Around seven years ago, when I was living in Palm Desert, my friend arranged for the two of us to meet Bob, the doorman at Cecil’s all those years ago, for lunch. He couldn’t believe that I recalled so many stories and had so many memories from those years.
Bob was around 40 when he worked at Cecil’s, and he didn’t care about the drugs people bribed him with at all. He never was a user.. He dumped them on a table at the end of the night for the staff. It was the 80s, the Disco era.
Cecil’s was the best club at the peak of the Disco era, and everyone wanted in.
When we pulled up, I asked my Mom to roll down her driver’s window, and I leaned over to talk with the doorman, whom I knew well, “It’s awesome to see you. Can I go in and see Theresa”?
I was so excited to share with Theresa that I wanted to fly her out to Australia to join me once I was settled.
Ollie, he said hesitantly, “I have bad news for you: Theresa is gone! She was killed.”
Killed? Like how, who, what, where… My Mom leaned over to hug me as I was choking with tears and pain, and he said, ”There was an accident. A DRUNK DRIVER crashed into her car, and she died instantly.”
My heart sank to my stomach as thoughts of the numerous times I drove when drinking rushed to the forefront of my mind. It hit hard, realizing how reckless I had been. I frequently put the lives of others at risk, and I risked my own life too.
I had already been in three minor accidents while drinking and driving. Thankfully, no one was hurt badly, and the fact that I received minimal punishment for the first two DUIs did not deter me from repeating my mistakes. I definitely felt enormous remorse for my earlier actions after losing Theresa.
Mom pulled forward into a safe parking spot and, for the next hour, we never moved.
We were speechless. As I swallowed my tears, I said, “No wonder she didn’t call me or reply to my letter.”
Now, the day would never come when we would both share the journey I was about to embark on. She was forever gone!
Theresa's family lived in the Midwest, and I never had the pleasure of meeting any of them. I didn't even have phone numbers for any of her family or friends.
The only way to connect was to muster the courage to approach her colleagues at the nightclub. I could not gather the strength or willpower to return to the club that weekend, the place she adored working.
During our remaining time in the desert heat, my nights were sleepless. I tossed and turned and had many nightmares. How could I keep going?
The days seemed endless. Mom and I spent much of our days addressing my heartache and pain, along with ways of coping with Theresa's death.
Death was something I found very hard to deal with.
This tragedy changed my future life plans forever.
Leaving on a journey to Australia just didn’t feel right anymore. I felt so much emptiness, but didn’t have the courage to opt out.
I told myself that I needed to honor my commitment to everyone. I asserted that I was fully committed to going and would not back out.
Six months later, I would face the harshest personal realities, but I did not know that when I boarded the plane to Australia.
I felt weak when confronted with the reality of death, and needed a coping mechanism to find the strength to continue living.
Later in life, I would have to come to terms with losing nearly all of my closest friends, as well as my parents, to death.
That’s for another time.
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...ifOnlyi…short stories follow my true-life journey. If you've just found me, you can check out my publication and choose a story of interest or start from # 1.
Wow, so sad, I cried for the pain you felt and for the pain of so many others that have had to live through such a horrible experience like this. I’ve never met anyone or knew of anyone who had to live through something this tragic, although I had two friend who were in a car crash after being out drinking all night. The passenger was hurt the worst, her foot was crushed to cornflakes as the doctors described it to her. It took years of recovery and surgeries for her and to this day she still walks with a limp and carries a cain. The worst thing about it, I was supposed to go out that night with them, I was always the designated driver since I was a wimp when it came to alcoholic drinks. The morning after the accident my bf was the one to tell me about it even though he had no clue it was my friends. He had heard it over the police scanner since he was a tow truck driver. He made a comment while telling me, gee that could have been you had you gone out galavanting all night like you usually do on the weekends. I got angry with him for his comment, and within hours learned it was my friends and had to tell him he was right about it being my friends. But the guilt I felt and told him about it, maybe if I were out with them it wouldn’t have happened since it was usually me that did all the driving. 🫤 I still think about that night every now and again, feeling guilty for not going out with them that maybe it would have prevented them from crashing into that tree.
This must have very difficult to read. I appreciate you telling your story. I'm sure you have never recovered from this dreadful experience.