Writing
A Drunken Disaster
By Megan Ogar
Fort Zumwalt West High School
It was some time after midnight. Nine-year-old Teri Kilmer was fast asleep with no idea that her slumber would soon be disrupted and her life changed forever. Her mother raced into Kilmer's and her two sisters' rooms to wake the young girls. Their father had been in a car accident, she told them, and they needed to go immediately to the hospital.
"We all piled in the car with pillows and blankets," Kilmer recalled.
The ride to the hospital was filled with silence.
After the family arrived at the hospital, Kilmer's mother Maria was taken back to see her husband while nurses kept the girls' attention with questions and Popsicles.
The time passed slowly, but it wasn't long before Kilmer and her sisters, Sara and Diana, found their mother standing before them.
"Girls, I have something to tell you," she said. Kilmer recalled hearing herself scream, "My daddy's dead!"
Thomas Kilmer held many titles: father, husband, son, church usher, West Point Military Academy graduate, food pantry volunteer, a star wrestler in high school, the list continued.
He cared about his church, his job, his family, his children. After his three daughters Sara, Teri and Diana returned home from school each day, the four of them would laugh as they made tripledecker peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, watched cartoons and played in the front yard.
He was young and his life held years of promise ahead. But at the age of 38, Thomas Kilmer's promising life was ended by a drunk driver.
On February 26, 1998, about midnight, Kilmer merged onto Highway 40 West, heading home from the late shift at his job at the Contico Plastic Company, a routine process for the father of three.
Meanwhile, a man named Hui Chan Mun, 35, had attended a birthday celebration at an area restaurant, where he and friends allegedly drank pitchers of beer. Legally intoxicated, his blood alcohol level in excess of .16%, he climbed into his Jeep. At the time, the legal limit was .10%. After making a quick stop at a gas station, Mun pulled out onto westbound Highway 40, heading east, failing to see the roadside sign warning, "Do Not Enter."
His Jeep met Kilmer's Ford Escort head-on. The drunk driver suffered a broken leg. Kilmer was killed.
It has been nearly a decade since the accident, and Teri Kilmer is now a senior at FZW, but the days following her father's death remain vivid. "I could tell you exactly what I was wearing at his wake because it was just one of those moments that was life changing," she said.
Even as a nine-year-old, Kilmer tried to put on a brave face. "I didn't cry in front of anyone," she said. As she and her family began to go on with life and Kilmer returned to the normality of the classroom, she said, "I just had to be the strong one."
Her strength was particularly needed as the man driving the Jeep that killed her father was put on trial.
Kilmer, her two sisters and mother sat in on the trial everyday. As a chilling reminder to the jury and those in attendance, the prosecutor placed the overlooked "Do Not Enter" sign in plain view each day. Although the defendant did not testify, Kilmer was less than impressed with his behavior. "There was no emotion. No sign of remorse. No apology," she said. Mun could not be contacted for comment.
The defendant's wife did take to the stand to defend her husband's character, but a time was also given for the victims to testify. Kilmer's older sister, Sara, who was only ten at the time, took the stand to attest to the great loss of her father, fighting though tears the entire time.
The Kilmer family was forced to endure two trials due to the first ending in a mistrial. Ultimately, Mun was sentenced to six years in prison for manslaughter and one year for driving with a suspended license.
Kilmer was again unimpressed and said, "I thought, ‘Seven years is nothing. That's all?'"
The Kilmers, however, did not believe Mun held sole responsibility. It was also the restaurant's responsibility to stop serving this man alcohol when he was too far past the limit, according to Kilmer.
Their attorney, James Krispin, was able to reverse the Missouri Supreme Court's previous ruling that servers of alcohol could not be held responsible for drunk driving. his allowed the Kilmers to pursue legal action against the restaurant that continued to serve pitchers of beer resulting in Thomas' death. The Kilmers did receive a settlement via a mediation outside of court.
Since then, Kilmer says her family has tried to move on in the best way possible.
"I decided I was going to have to go on no matter what," she said.
Going on included letting go of anger towards the man who was responsible.
Kilmer said, "I don't hate him; I suppose I more pity him," and added, " I don't understand how staying angry can help you."
Kilmer still misses her father, of course. "One of the hardest things is to think you'll never have a father daughter dance at your wedding or someone to walk you down the aisle," she said.
Kilmer says, though, it's hard to measure the impact her father's absence has had.
"I'm definitely very strong, very independent, private," but added, "It wasn't just my immediate family [that was affected.] One person's actions affect dozens of people."
That, says Kilmer, is one thing teens have difficulty understanding. "Some people don't care and think they're infallible, [that] it can't affect them."
She says she feels saddened when classmates come in after the weekend and talk of their drunken escapades.
Kilmer said, "I've heard some of them say, ‘Driving drunk is the best.' They don't realize the full impact of what they're saying."
She added, "They're more involved in what they're getting out of it at the moment than what comes after it."
Kilmer's family was greatly changed by the actions of another. She says although many teens view drinking as enjoyable, she wishes they would understand, "You have no idea what consequences can come from your actions, but when things like death, or even injury happen, it's not as cool as it was before. It's not worth the fun you think you're having."
Kilmer asks that teens think twice about their actions because though she tends not to advertise it, "It hurt. It still hurts sometimes. Even if you come to terms, you still know something's missing," she continued, "There's this balance and relationship that's never going to happen again."
