My name is Donna and my son Wibb (Christopher) decided that he didn't want to live anymore. Why? I wish I knew.
Wibb was the last person that I thought would ever even considered taking a 270 rifle, aiming at his heart and pulling the trigger. Wibb loved life! He was always such a fun loving and giving person. As a child he was a brat, as a teenager he was a teenager, as a young man he was the most loving and caring person I've ever known.
Wibb did get mixed up with the wrong crowd and went through some bad times. He started drinking and doing drugs. He did get into some trouble, nothing major, DUI mostly. He was on probation and his probation officer was a real witch. He went to court one day for a driving revoked charge and found that there was a warrant of violation of probation. He was placed under a $50,000 bond and spent six months in jail. While there he began to get it together. He quit the drinking and drugs and decided that he wanted to go back to finish high school. This was the best thing that I had ever heard. His probation officer would not help him in any way. All she was concerned about was how he would pay his fines and pay her each month. I told her I would take care of that and did what needed to be done. Wibb went back to school.
Wibb had always been popular with the girls. He was handsome and had a smile that you couldn't resist. He was never serious about anyone until he met Stephanie. I don't know why, but he fell head over heels for her. Every thing seemed to be going so well. Wibb was happy again. He went to school without any hassle and he was his old popular self. Because of Stephanie, he quit deer hunting, going out with his friends, or doing anything that he liked to do unless it was something that interested her, but he was happy. Then Stephanie decided that she had used him long enough and decided that she didn't want to go out with him anymore. I knew he was unhappy but I also knew that they were talking to each other and it seemed that they would get back together.
They didn't! One cold icy stormy Friday night, Wibb went out with some other boys. He came home about midnight, went through the house and said he was going to go spend the night with my brother. About 3:00am my mom called and said that they were looking for him because there had been an accident and he had left the emergency room. We had started to go look for him when a friend of his brought him home. I later found out that when he got out of her car he told her the next time she saw him would be at the funeral home.
He went upstairs to go to bed. A few minutes later he came downstairs, went to the refrigerator, got a Dr. Pepper and a bag of Doritos (nothing unusual about that), went to the living room, then went upstairs. A couple of minutes later I heard the gunshot. I found him with a bullet wound in his chest. He was still alive, but couldn't talk to me. The paramedics did all they could but he had severed the main artery near his heart and was losing blood too fast. When they left the house with him, that was the last time I saw him. I never got to say good-bye. The last six years have been so unbearable. I want to blame someone, but who? Wibb, Stephanie, or myself? I have questions that I want answers to, but I know I'll not get until that happy day when I will be with my son again. I would love to hear from anyone that wants to share their pain.
You can email Donna McElyea: [email protected]
anniversary date 03-06-93
date of post 08-12-99
Donna McElyea, 45, writes of the need to blame someone because her son chose to die.