Six Months Ago...

Tomorrow, Monday, May 16th is a joyous day in the Klimek house.  Tomorrow, Andrew will celebrate his golden birthday. 

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However, tomorrow also marks the six month anniversary that our Carter Mike became an angel in Heaven.  I had planned to publish my Victim Impact Statement that I wrote for the judge (in the sentencing hearing for the man who killed Carter) on the six month anniversary of Carter's death.  I didn't realize that would be Andrew's birthday. Because I don't want to overshadow Andrew's very special day with sadness tomorrow, I am choosing to publish to my blog tonight. 

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We miss Carter as much today as the first day he went to Heaven.  I hope the reading of my impact statement reminds us all to tell our loved ones we love them and to have our hearts ready to meet Jesus at any time, because only He knows when our final day on Earth will be.

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Your Honor:

My name is Shana Klimek, and I am Carter Dorwin’s auntie. I would like to share with you how the events of November 16, 2010 have changed my life forever.

First, however, I would like to give you some family background. I like to joke that our family tree is more like a “family wreath”. My husband and I were married in 1992. In the winter of 1995, we went on Chad Dorwin and Nicole Klimek’s first date with them. Chad is my first cousin, and Nicole is my husband’s sister, or my sister-in-law. As you know, they went on to be married and have a family. Their two boys, Carter Michael and Bradley James are my nephews (and my cousins, if you get technical)! Those two little boys are very special to me-- I was there the days they were both born, and I love them both very much. My children view those little guys more like little brothers than little cousins. Carter and Bradley and their parents are all very dear to our family.

The morning of Tuesday, November 16th, 2010 started out like most of my days. I had to be at work by 7:00 am, and left my family sleeping at home while I left the house at 6:40 to venture out into the darkness. That day was my husband’s birthday, and I had left him birthday wishes along with the daily note I leave for the kids with their daily instructions. I had an early patient that Tuesday morning, a 7:30 exam. Little did I know, that as I was performing my first ultrasound of the day, my family’s world was shattering five hours south in Lake Geneva. As I came out of my exam, I checked my cell phone, as I wanted to call my husband and wish him a ‘happy birthday’. Instead, I found a voice mail from him, urging me to call him as soon as possible because something awful had happened.

I took my phone into a private area and called my husband. He had gotten a phone call from his sister that morning. Time stopped for me as he blurted out his somber greeting. “Shana, it’s really bad. Nicole and the boys were in an accident on the way to school.”

He paused and tried to catch his breath. I began to get hysterical and asked him what happened, still not realizing the extent of what he was trying to tell me. “What happened? What happened! Is Nic okay? Where are the boys?” I asked my husband.


“Carter’s dead.” my husband choked out.


I refused to believe what my husband, Jamie, was telling me. That had to be a mistake. How could there even have been an accident? There was no snow on the road, the weather was fine! Was there that big of difference in the weather in southern Wisconsin?

I tried to reassure my husband. I told him that perhaps Nicole was distraught over the accident and Carter was only injured. I told Jamie, my husband, that I was going to call Chad, Carter’s dad, and find out what was going on.

I called Chad, still refusing to believe that my vibrant, nine-year-old nephew was injured, let-alone dead. When Chad answered, I asked him what was going on. Chad told me there had been an accident. I asked him if Carter was okay. That is when Chad had to tell me that his first-born son “didn’t make it”.

I cried in disbelief. I asked if the roads were bad; if it was foggy. Chad said no, and that our little Carter Mike was gone in an instant. He said he talked to a fireman over the phone, and the fireman told him there was nothing they could do for Carter. That’s when I realized that Chad wasn’t even in Lake Geneva, that he was south of Chicago, and had to drive 5 hours to get home to his family. Five hours for a grieving father to sit behind the wheel of an eighteen wheeler and fight through busy Chicago traffic to reach the surviving members of his family!

I immediately made arrangements to leave work and to go home to be with my family. My boys, Austin (17) and Andrew (15), never made it to school that Tuesday morning. They were still home when their Auntie Nicky called with the horrific news that their little cousin went to Heaven. I came home to find them sitting on the couch in shock, crying and scared.

My daughter, Abby (12), however, was already at school when the call came. My husband went to pick her up, and then I suffered through one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I sat with my daughter and had to tell her that her little cousin, the cousin that she spent all the time at Grandma and Grandpa’s house with, the cousin that chose her out of all of his friends to take on an overnight vacation to a water park, the cousin that was one of her best buddies, had gone to be with Jesus. My little girl sobbed and sobbed. She looked to me for answers, but I had none to give.

Abby and I quickly packed our suitcases, preparing to leave for Lake Geneva. Jamie and the boys would follow later, after they made some arrangements. We all climbed in two vehicles; there was another task we had to do.

My in-laws, Jamie and Nicole’s parents, live in Chippewa Falls, WI. It is about an hour south of our home in Barron, WI, and on our way to Lake Geneva. Our next stop was for the five of us to stop in Chippewa Falls and tell Carter’s grandma and grandpa that Carter was gone. I will not go into the details, but for grandparents to find out that their precious grandson has died has got to be one of the most heartbreaking things imaginable.

My father-in-law, Ken, shut down completely. He suffers from post-traumatic stress syndrome as a result of the Vietnam War and gets through his days with the help of medication. He relied heavily on medication, and still does, to help him with the grief and despair and helplessness he feels as a result of Carter’s death. Not only is he dealing with the loss of a grandson, but watching his daughter live through the horror of losing her son has taken a tremendous toll on him.

My mother-in-law, Debbie, is in fragile health. We were immediately worried that the news of Carter’s death would be detrimental to her health. Although she did as well as could be expected through the funeral and several weeks to follow, she did end up hospitalized about a month after Carter’s passing and has been in and out of the hospital since that time. No grandmother should have to attend her grandson’s closed-casket funeral and stand by as her daughter and son-in-law make the decision to cremate their nine-year-old son.

I drove my in-laws, Nicole’s aunt, Beverly, and my daughter, Abby down to Lake Geneva so we could be with Nicole and Chad and Bradley as quickly as we possibly could. The drive seemed to take forever, and I spent the majority of the time with tears streaming down my face. I still could not believe it was true. That morning, we were all living the ‘American Dream’. We were happy, healthy, and thankful for our families and the lives we were living. Now, it seemed it was all up in smoke; just an illusion.

When we arrived at Chad and Nicole’s house, we walked in to find Nicole grieving on the couch. She was re-living every moment of the crash; every moment of that morning. She was second-guessing everything she had done. The “what if’s” were rolling out of her mouth. She was blaming herself for what had happened to Carter. She was pretty banged-up from the accident. The impact occurred directly behind her seat where Carter was sitting. She was sore and bruised, but she practically ignored all of her physical pain, as it was overshadowed by her emotional pain. It hurt me so much to see her like that; to see her sobbing, broken, and trying to take all of the blame for the actions of another.

Chad seemed to be in shock. He has always been a quiet guy, and he just didn’t know what to do. I felt so awful for my cousin; he looked so lost. How can you console a man who has just lost his son? How can you make things right for someone whose world had just crumbled?

Little Bradley had multiple cuts all over his face, his neck, and his left ear. He was playing, but he never let his mom and dad out of his sight. Every once in a while, he would start talking about Carter and how “Carter was bloody”. Bradley asked frequently where Carter was. His mom and dad had to tell him over and over again that his big brother Carter was now in Heaven with Jesus. Then, Bradley would say, “Carter’s not bloody anymore?“

My heart was breaking thinking about the horrible things that my little four-year-old nephew had witnessed that morning.

Over the next two days, I felt that I should take the responsibility of contacting the funeral home (Chad and Nicole had a name of a local funeral home that had helped a friend previously), as Carter’s body was still in the morgue. I talked to the coroner and the funeral director about the condition of Carter’s body. I felt strongly that Carter should be bandaged up with gauze in case Nicole and Chad wanted to see him one last time. Because of this, I was subjected to listen to very graphic descriptions of my little nephew’s condition. Carter’s death was caused as a direct result of severe head trauma. Please understand, I do not regret taking on this roll, and I would do it again in an instant to try to ease the burden on my sister-in-law and brother-in-law/cousin, I just wish circumstances had never caused me to do it to begin with.

I tried to take on as much as I could to help out Chad and Nicole. I called the pastor when they needed him, I kept in contact with the funeral director, I made arrangements with their former pastor “up north” for a second memorial service, I contacted police about getting accident reports and retrieving belongings out of Nicole’s car, I made arrangements for flowers, I wrote an obituary. All of these activities kept me busy, but as hard as I worked, I couldn’t get the image of my sister-in-law, trapped in her car in that swampy marsh with her two boys in the back seat; one boy screaming in horror, one boy damaged beyond recognition, out of my mind.

Because Chad and Nicole had only lived in Lake Geneva a short time, we had uncertainty as to what to do with Carter’s body. I will always remember how awful I felt as I led them into Carter’s room to talk with them about “arrangements” for Carter’s body. I had to broach the idea of cremation vs. burial with Chad and Nicole. They both knew that Carter’s funeral would have to be a closed-casket funeral due to the extent of Carter’s injuries, but the question of what to do with Carter’s body after the funeral was up in the air. I can only imagine the horror they experienced in having to make that decision. Now, Carter’s ashes sit on a shelf in Chad and Nicole’s bedroom in a 10” x 5” box. That is what they have left of their son’s earthly body.

We went to the funeral home to make arrangements to say goodbye to Carter. Chad, Nicole, the pastor, both sets of grandparents, and myself were there. The funeral director had “prepared” Carter for his mom and dad to see him. I went in with Chad and Nicole to see Carter one last time. His little body was lying on a hospital cot, dressed in the last outfit his mom would ever pick out for him. He had a thin, white blanked draped over his lower body. Carter’s little head was wrapped in layers of white gauze. Only his right ear, his mouth, and his chin were able to be uncovered. He looked as though he could have been sleeping. I had never seen Carter so still before.

The deep, heart-wrenching sobs of pain that Nicole cried tore at my soul. Tears streamed down Chad’s face as he stared at his oldest son. Nicole frantically kissed Carter as she examined his fingers, his hands, his feet, his chin; all the while telling him how much she loved him and how perfect he was. It reminded me of the day Carter was born-- Nicole did the same thing, kissing Carter and examining him and telling him he was perfect. This time, however, her tears were tears of pain and suffering, not tears of joy. This time, her expressions of love were intermingled with apologies for not protecting him from harm. This time, Chad was not looking on with happiness, but with such great sadness that I thought his heart was surely breaking.

Soon after, the grandparents came in to say goodbye to Carter. Chad’s mom, my aunt LaNita, was terribly distraught. She suffered terribly seeing Carter in that condition as her husband, Bill, looked on with tears rolling down his face.

My in-laws came in shortly after Chad’s parents. My mother-in-law stumbled weakly several times as she walked toward Carter. My father-in-law sobbed loudly. The pastor prayed for peace over all of us. The anguish in that room was palpable.

As we were viewing Carter’s earthly body one last time, my husband, Jamie, and my two sons arrived in Lake Geneva and came directly to the funeral home. I had not planned for my children to see Carter with his injuries. I wanted them to remember Carter the way he was, smiling, with mischief dancing in his eyes. I will never forget the looks on my son’s faces as they stood over their little cousin’s body. My oldest son, Austin, sobbed into my shoulder. My younger son, Andrew, just stared at Carter. I think he was in shock. My husband clung to his sister, father, and mother and they all cried and cried.

Four months have passed since Carter has gone to live with Jesus. Much has changed in my life and the lives of my children as a direct result of Carter’s death. I live with daily depression, sometimes so dark that I can’t get out of bed. I have lost 20 pounds, as many days, I can’t bring myself to eat hardly anything. As much as I would like to deny the fact, my family suffers because of my condition.

My eldest son quit basketball his senior year just weeks after Carter died, as he was persecuted by his coach for missing practices to attend his little cousin’s funeral. Austin has played basketball since he was seven years old and was the only returning starter on the varsity team this season. He loved the game. The stress of Carter’s death and the coach’s cruelty, however, was too much for him to bear.

My two younger children, Andrew and Abby, will be attending a new school next year. Due to the health concerns of their grandma that escalated after Carter’s death, my husband feels we should move to Chippewa Falls to take care of my in-laws. My mother-in-law is in poor health, and my father-in-law is still suffering emotionally since Carter’s death.
Carter’s death has left a huge hole in our family. We celebrated his little brother, Bradley’s fifth birthday just a month after Carter went to Heaven. I stood and watched while his mom sobbed in the background while everyone else struggled to sing “Happy Birthday” for Bradley. Nothing for our family will ever be ‘normal’ again.

I think about Jeremy Dees frequently. I have visited his online blog more times than I care to admit, trying to get a glimpse into the man that has caused our family so much pain. Most days, when I think of Mr. Dees, I feel nothing. I pray to have the strength to forgive him someday. Right now, I feel robbed. My husband and I try so hard to teach our children right from wrong. As we have one son who recently earned his driver’s license, and one son who will (hopefully) earn his in May of this year, we have stressed the rules of the road over and over to our children. I feel cheated that Mr. Dees has broken the law so many times with his three DUI’s and just recently getting his license back after having it suspended--why was someone who so clearly does not respect the law out driving on our roads? What kind of message does this send to my children? This man’s blatant disregard for our laws time after time finally resulted in a horrible tragedy.

What is my nephew’s life worth? Certainly more that seven years in prison. More than 20 years-- more than 100 years! No punishment that can be handed down to Jeremy Dees will ever bring back my mischievous, fun-loving, intelligent, adorable nephew. We, Carter’s family, will have to take comfort in the fact that we will see him again in Heaven, thanks to God’s promises. In the mean time, my hope is that you, in your authority, will punish Mr. Dees to the full extent of the law and set an example both for him and for our children.

Thank you.