The Steven Leonard Knox Story
Story from his Wife
There are moments in life when your path changes direction completely. Sometimes, you choose it, and go off to college, get married, have a baby, or move somewhere completely new to start fresh. I’ve journeyed all of those path changes. Like most people, I assumed that once I made a path change, I would mosey along on the new course, experiencing new challenges, and enjoying new adventures. I was wrong. Sometimes, Life changes your path for you, and you just don’t see it coming. It’s the weeks that follow the jagged turns that leave your future in limbo as you try to stand, feeling alone, on quaking ground.
I survived the unexpected journey in the loss of my husband, and want to make that turn easier for others through knowledge, assistance and sharing of solutions to make those first weeks a little less shaky for those who must also survive this unexpected life change. This is my journey.
My husband, Steven, and I met in 2003 in a same place, same time, seize the moment, kind of way. Call it chance or fate, but it was on our side, and in short order, we knew that ‘this was it’. Life changed quickly, and soon we were married, parents, and living in a 700 square foot, 2-bedroom apartment. I was in college getting my bachelor’s degree and working a $12 an hour job as a receptionist at the University of Nevada Human Resources Department, and Steven was working in construction. Life was small, but it was going somewhere, and it was good. Our daughter, Cailly Jade, was a treasure, and Steven was an amazing daddy. He was a natural. I had it all and more. We spent weekends outdoors enjoying nature. Steven’s ‘Let’s do it!’ spirit kept us active and together enjoying our little family while we were building a steady and fun-filled future.
We were looking at houses to accommodate the second baby that was newly on the way, and to settle down into a little family nest. On August 10th of 2005, I completed my bachelor’s, and was a little disappointed to miss out on my promised prize. Steven had promised I could skydive to celebrate, but the baby we’d been trying for happened pretty quickly, so I had to miss out. I’d also missed out when I’d gotten my associate’s degree because I was pregnant with Cailly (now 20 months old). Skydiving may not be in the cards for me. Nothing could dampen our excitement though that our family was expanding, and we were going to buy our first home. Life was messy and hectic, but it was very good. I guess that’s when things change the most, isn’t it – when you least need them to. Maybe that’s Life’s way of saying that your plan isn’t always the one you’re going to get.
On August 22, 2005, Steven needed a night out with the guys at the casino to play poker and black jack, and have some down time. We put Cailly to bed, and he indicated he wouldn’t be out too late. He lost track of time, as happens in casinos, and was out all night. I’d tried to call several times, but reception doesn’t really happen inside the casino, not that you could hear it over the noise anyway. I hadn’t wanted him to go in case he’d lose money instead of win. Saving for a house didn’t leave us much play money. He needed a night out though, and was an optimist, so he went. I was upset, but eventually gave up and went to sleep.
Around 5:00 or so, I woke up hearing his truck pull in when he came home, and I pretended to be asleep. I wasn’t up for rational conversation yet, so I just wanted to wait and talk later after I was up and calm. I wasn’t mad at him, just hurt that he’d gone, when financially, it wasn’t the best time for that. He changed and grabbed some food, and I heard the front door close as he left for work. I wanted to run after him. I didn’t. I cried instead. I didn’t know then, but I would be crying a lot that day, and none of these things would be important in the least, except not talking to him, not hugging or kissing him, and not seeing him.
I got up and began my day getting ready for work and Cailly ready for daycare. At 6:13am, he pulled his motorcycle over to the side of the road and called me. He was very apologetic for everything, and we talked, and everything was going to be fine. It’s not like husbands will always do what their wives want, or vise versa, so these conflicts of thought come up from time to time in any marriage, and generally, aren’t all that big of a deal. We reunite as a team and move on with our daily life. We said our ‘I love you’s’ and hung up the phone.
I went about my normal, busy, working-mom day. I tried calling Steven around lunchtime, but he didn’t answer. I rationalized it that he was working, or maybe his phone died from not getting its nightly charge. Around 2:00, a tall man with grey hair, beard, and mustache and a crisp white button-down shirt and hat came in. He wore a badge on a neck strap. Being the receptionist, I asked, ‘Can I help you?’, but before he could answer, our VP of HR, Gina, came out to get him. I felt a queasy knot in my stomach when he walked in, but had no idea why. His badge said ‘UNR Coroner’, but I didn’t register that until later. I was called into my Manager, Barb’s, office, with the tall man and Gina. I knew this wasn’t good. I was told that Steven had passed away around 6:30 a.m., just minutes after I had talked to him last. I couldn’t breathe. Many words were spoken that I couldn’t hear through my fog of disbelief. Instant. Semi-truck. Head-on. I couldn’t piece the words together to make sense of them, but I knew my life had just changed forever.
After tears and a semblance of composure, I called my mom, in Michigan, but there was no answer. I tried my brother, and mercifully, he answered. I was incoherent in trying to tell him, and had to ultimately scream it out of my lungs to get it audible and understandable. We lived in Reno, and he lived in Las Vegas, but couldn’t get away, since his work only considers ‘immediate family’ a valid bereavement excuse. Had I died instead of Steven, he could have been there for me – ironic isn’t it? Just then, daycare called and said Cailly was acting up and crying. This was really strange. She somehow must have felt my pain, or knew something was terribly wrong. I had to go pick her up. Barb drove my car, and another co-worker followed to take Barb back. Clearly, driving wouldn’t have been a smart choice.
We got Cailly home, and I hugged and kissed her and held on for dear life. I was panicked that the stress would harm the new baby too. Would I have a miscarriage? Will the baby be ok? Can I do this? This is where Life makes you feel completely incompetent. What do I do now? Where do I start? How do I pay bills alone? What do I tell our daughter or Steven’s mother? What about the kids’ college? Who is going to eat these leftovers that only Steven liked? Since I don’t like seafood, how will the kids get exposed to it? How do I take care of the kids on my own? Can I take care of them on my own? My mind went everywhere at once, and none of it had an answer attached. All I knew is that I knew absolutely nothing about anything and certainly not about dealing with something like this.
Then, as if God gave me mercy for a moment, I stopped pacing and looked at our daughter watching the movie I’d popped in to get a moment to think, and I felt my belly, and I knew that they needed me. It wasn’t a question whether I COULD do this; it was simply HOW will I do this? I got it together a little, and called my mom again, who thankfully, answered. She’d lost a husband, when I was 16, so she knew this moment. She didn’t expect it to be happening to me. I charged a ticket for her the next day for her to come out right away.
I called a cousin in Arizona, who agreed to drive up with her two girls to help me as I figured this out. She stayed a couple days to help keep things in order on the homefront for me. I didn’t want to be the one to tell Steven’s mother, but could not get word on whether they had reached her yet. I wasn’t strong enough to have that conversation yet. I still needed propping up myself!
Cailly was in bed when an officer came to talk to me. I wanted every single detail, but didn’t want to believe any of it. Worst accident he’d seen. Again with the Semi-truck, Head-on, Instant. I equally wanted to visualize the event, so I could understand it, but also erase it completely from my ears as though I’d never heard any of it. I could swear I felt my heart beat backward. My 700 sq. foot apartment became 100, then 10, then 5 foot in size. I was suffocating. He said that Steven’s mom, Peggy, had still not been reached. I ached for both of us. I paced some more, and felt I had to try to reach Peggy. She had to know. This was her son. I couldn’t wait for someone there in Stockton, California to locate her. Heart racing, tears raining a downpour, I dialed, but there was no answer. I left a shaky message to call me back.
Peggy knew instantly that something was wrong from the sound of my voicemail, and had Jaime, Steven’s brother, call me. It’s funny how common sayings of disbelief become literal to you in moments like this. I told Jaime what happened, and he said ‘Are you kidding me?’, which made me more upset. Why would I joke about such a horrendous thing? Next, he told Steven’s mom, and of course, she was frantic. We hung up for a little while so they could grasp it, and then Peggy called me back. She kept asking if I was sure it was Steven. Ouch. Of course, I completely get it now, but at that moment, I had to get myself to grasp it before I could comfort anyone else. I didn’t want to talk to her, because I couldn’t comfort her, but I felt terrible, at the same time, that I couldn’t comfort her, because I wanted to help her cope. It was surreal.
Jaime made the three hour drive out to be with us and get us to California. My Mom would come in the next day, and we would go to California to make the arrangements together. I finally got a little sleep. I thought I was just going to have a normal day. I thought I had just had a normal little tiff with my husband, and then worked it all out. I thought tomorrow would be as ordinary as yesterday. I don’t remember drawing that short straw in some cosmic game of chance, but I guess Life gambled with me today too. I lost.
The next morning, the Calvary came (Mom), and we set out for California. We stopped at the Sheriff’s Office in Placer County to pick up Steven’s belongings found at the accident scene. Jaime and I went in, and they handed me a brown paper bag and a small manila envelope that contained $13.22. The bag contained a piece of his shattered helmet, his wallet, some tools, his earrings, his ring that was used for his labret (lip) piercing, and his blood-stained belt. They could have left out the piece of helmet and the belt. It made it too real. I couldn’t bear seeing it. I tearfully looked in the bag for his wedding ring. Why wasn’t it in the bag? The Sheriff said it might be at the funeral parlor. Later, we discovered that the ring was never found. Some of the items were saved for a scrapbook for the kids. Guess which ones weren’t?
In California, the arrangements were made. I began to realize the enormity of the financial hardship I was facing. It isn’t cheap to die. I never had to pay for that before. I also hadn’t thought about single income parenting, or emergency fund planning or estate planning, wills, or what to do with my dead husband’s things. We were just starting out. We just hadn’t gotten to those conversations yet. Steven’s mother and I agreed to divide the cost of the burial and services. She took on a little more of the cost, since the services were primarily her choices for her son. We choose the casket together picking the one that would most look like a casket Steven would have made for himself. I paid for the casket ($2,000), burial and services on the plot ($3,600), and the headstone ($1,000). With no emergency funds, it all went on my credit card. I had to use cash advance, because you cannot buy the plot on credit, so I knew the interest rates would be through the roof. I also had to figure out how to pay $1,000 a month in rent, $450 in truck payment, a $160 car payment, and $120 a month for a motorcycle that, well, left a piece of helmet behind. There was $630 a month in daycare, which would increase considerably with the new baby. Add in utilities, phone, etc., and I was really scared, considering I had a $12 an hour job. That math isn’t pretty. We owed $20,000 on his truck, which was too tall for me to get into while pregnant, so I had to sell it, at a loss, for $15,000. I had to move since the walls in that apartment closed in on me every time I set foot in it. I had to plan for the new baby my husband would never meet. This is the time when a widow needs some place to turn to get through this intense pressure and stress.
Amazingly, for me, Steven worked for the Carpenter’s Union (Local 971) and Victory Woodworks, and they took up a collection for me. This paid the move-in costs on the small house I rented, and they all used their trucks to help me move. Being pregnant, with a toddler underfoot, I was eternally grateful. I truly don’t know what I would have done without their kindness. I debated, off and on about quitting my job and living off the government, since I made too much for any government assistance, but too little to buy formula and diapers and enough food. I knew there had to be a better way to figure this out. Insurance was enough to pay off the credit cards, but it wouldn’t help me in my new daily life challenges. I struggled, but I got a promotion that I had fought for, because I knew I needed it and was already doing the job. I felt it was going to keep me working to move forward. I wanted to show myself and my kids that you can move on and make it to good times again. My Mom moved to Reno to baby-sit the new baby. God bless her. With enough careful planning and cutting back, we got through it. After some time, the social security for the girls started coming in. Because Steven worked for a long time making good money, Cailly got the max amount. The second check was not going to start until after the baby was born. I, of course, made too much to receive the benefit myself, but we managed to make it work. Finally, the insurance paid off the motorcycle except for $500. I felt alone, but I was not alone. It took a lot of time to get back on my feet financially. Somehow, life moves on and ‘normal’ begins again.
The Steven Leonard Knox Foundation was formed to give that moment of kindness a new widow needs to get back on stable ground. When your head is spinning, and your heart is shattered, a little sense of direction and clarity is a momentous thing. Nothing, of course, is as beneficial as careful emergency planning, life insurance, savings in the bank, and a back-up plan or two, but sometimes, Life just changes direction before you get all those things in place. Insurance and social security benefits don’t kick in immediately either, so we want to assist families in that interim time, so that the focus can be on the healing instead of the bills.
Together, we can all help the healing begin. I am very passionate about this cause, and I will be giving all I can every day to make this a success and help widowed parents get back on their feet.
Thank you,
Joan Knox