Debbie Bragg's Victim Impact Statement

My name is Debbie Bragg. I'm the daughter of John Sowers, the second born of four children. My family and I currently live in upland Indiana. My husband, Bob, and I have been married 17 years and have two teenage daughters Cas and Chris.

We would all like to be present today at this hearing, but due to the demands of our jobs and our family preparing to move to Ohio in a few weeks, we are unable to attend. Please do not mistake our absence as being a sign that we do not care about my father or we are indifferent to the purpose or outcome of today's proceedings. If there had been any way for me and my family to be here today, we certainly would have been here in support of my father and the rest of our family.

But I have written a statement that will be read on my behalf. Please know that it grieves me to not be able to do this in person in memory of my father. Respectfully, Debbie Bragg.

And she entitles it, "In the Blink of an Eye." "These words and this cliche have been the center of my most frequent lecture given to our daughters since the time they were old enough to begin to comprehend the true meaning of the words and the lessons the words were meant to teach. Don't run across the street like that. You didn't look. What if a car had been coming? Don't push your sister while standing next to the stairs. Think of what might happen. A moment of anger expressed is not worth the lifetime of misery it could cause. Don't give in to the moment of anger or passion. Step back and think about the consequences. Your life can change in a heartbeat, in the blink of an eye. And it will never ever be the same again.

These abstract words took on new meanings and truth for us all on April 7th, 2002. My family and I had only been home a week from visiting my father in Florida. It was the first time in several years that we had seen him. Life had been very busy for us, raising children and settling into our careers. Dad ran a very successful paper route seven days a week, and it was difficult for him to take more than a few days off at a time. He took pride in his work and was always a reliable employee.

We didn't spend each day of our vacation with my father. We had plans to meet my cousin and her husband in Cedar Key. But we also made plans to spend time with Dad, Lillian, my brother John, and my sister Paula.I booked a guided fishing trip for all the guys on Sunday. They were gone much longer than expected. We were starting to get concerned that something bad had happened. But they were catching so many fish, they stayed out as long as possible. Everyone was exhausted and sunburnt, but it was the good type of exhaustion, the kind that leaves you tired but relaxed and content.

We had dinner together. I cooked homemade spaghetti sauce for Dad, one of his favorites. We talked and visited the rest of the evening. He and Lillian spent the night in Cedar Key.

Dad came to see me Monday morning before he and Lillian left to go home. We talked and visited for a while, then it was time for him to leave. He gave me a hug and a kiss and started down the stairs, but he hesitated, stopped, and turned around. He looked at me with tears in his eyes and said I feel like this is the last time I will ever see you.

Of course, I reacted the way most of us would. I reassured him that we would be back, or maybe he would get to come to Indiana and see us. And I felt reasonably confident that we would see him again. You see, Dad was 72 years young. Although he had slowed down some in the past few years, he was in fairly good health, very active, and thrived on always having something to do, some work or project that needed his attention. He was not one to just sit around. He was always busy and always moving.

Well, I did see him again. We made a quick stop at his house the following Friday on our way back to Indiana. We took pictures of him and all of us together. I didn't know it then, but that was the last time I would see my father alive and those were the last pictures that were taken of him.

Nine days later, he would pass from this world in the blink of an eye. Many lives were changed in that moment, that instant that came and passed so quickly. We were told that he didn't suffer, it was quick, and he probably felt no pain. Of that, I am thankful.

I have watched friends and family suffer the little deaths, those things that steal our health, slowly eat away at our mind and spirit, while we journey to the final death of our physical body. And I grieve for him in my own separate and personal way.

But I believe in my heart that there is a God and a higher power and that there is more to life than just the mortal physical existence we live. So I don't grieve for his physical presence. I grieve for the things that could have or should have been, for the things I could have or should have said and done, for not being able to be by his side during the final moments, to hold him and tell him how much I loved him before he took his final breath. "But I also grieve for Kelley Highsmith and her family. Some of you may not understand this, but I've kept them in my prayers, and they are often in my thoughts.

I struggle with conflicting emotions both as a daughter and as a mother. I've always tried to teach my children to take responsibility for their actions and decisions, and I try to live my life as an example to them. I'm sure I've made many mistakes and will make many more, but I never asked anything of them that I am not committed to giving of myself.

With privilege comes responsibility. Never compromise your beliefs for a few moments of pleasure. So in this sense, I do believe that Kelley Highsmith must pay for her mistakes, suffer the consequences of her actions. But I grieve for her children, her husband, and her family. They too must suffer the consequences. They will have to find a way to deal with the results of the compromises she made for her few moments of pleasure.

I hear stories too often of people not accepting responsibility for their mistakes. Maybe the news reporters tend to dwell on those negative happenings and the good news goes unnoticed, but it seems that we are all slowly turning into a society that wants to blame all of our problems on someone else, some other thing that caused us to make our mistake or bad choice. Parents make excuses for their children. Adults want their freedoms but don't want to be held accountable.

I've tried to not allow myself be overcome by bitterness toward Kelly Highsmith and her family; have tried not to judge her or them based on this tragedy. And for the most part, I believe I've succeeded.

I am certain she did not intend for any of this to happen, but it did. And all of us have to bear the burden of the results. But one thing has bothered me through this entire ordeal.

Kelley Highsmith taking the stance that this might go to trial instead of accepting the responsibility and consequences of her actions is very disturbing to me. I have no doubt that this action was a result of her making bad decisions and driving after she had been drinking. I'm sure she feels remorse for what happened, and she lives in her own private hell each and every day. Our family, too, has to live with our own version of that same hell and the way in which we lost our father.

As a mother, I understand how she must feel when faced with going to prison and not being with her children and family. But through it all, Miss Highsmith has been reluctant to accept her responsibility for this tragedy, first by choosing to take this issue to trial and then by not being willing to accept the prosecutor's sentencing recommendations.

But I have to ask Kelley Highsmith and her family: What if it had been my father who had been at fault? What if he had been the one coming home from the bar and Kelley had been the one on her way to work? Would you expect my father to take full responsibility for his actions? "What kind of punishment would you have felt was reasonable and fair? How would you have felt when the whole ordeal had been dragging out for over a year after her death, and then you are faced with a possibility of going to trial and maybe several more months of waiting? And then suffering through the facts being detailed in a courtroom? How forgiving and understanding would you be? What would you consider to be fair and appropriate justice?"

This site is voluntarily setup, maintained and paid for by Kelley D. Highsmith as a small token of her sincere remorse for her decision to drink and drive on April 7th 2002.

Comments or Suggestions Thanks for stopping by and remember Don't Drink and Drive!