A Difficult Day

Warning: this post may contain painful subject matter.

It was a surreal experience to be sitting in a waiting room of the Springfield Police Department reading "Little Ways to Keep Calm and Carry On: Twenty Lessons for Managing Worry, Anxiety and Fear," which I had found among Adam's belongings 15 days earlier.

We had been uplifted by the kind people at "Ds  Auto Plaza" (as in Dee's) an hour earlier when we went to pay off Adam's 2009 Chevy Impala yesterday. The owner, D, shepherded us into his office amid condolences and positive words when we announced we were Adam Tuttle's parents. D kept saying, "He was my man, a model customer" and expressing his shock and disappointment at this young man ending his life. He showed us his payment history reiterating how he wished he had more customers like Adam. He had helped Adam trade in his water/flood damaged Audi and purchase the Impala. At one point he answered his cell phone, telling the other party, "I have a situation, I am having some fellowship." He asked if he could keep the obit I had brought to prove Adam was dead. Several other employees told us how nice and polite Adam was when coming in every month early to make his payments in cash.

Now we are waiting for the detectives to decide if we can view any of Adam's last effects (note, journal, cell phone). The Springfield PD could not have been any nicer to these parents arriving at 3:30 p.m. on a Friday afternoon to try to get some answers to an unanswerable question. When we entered the otherwise deserted building a man in a suit asked if he could help and we explained why we were there. Turns out he was head of investigations and accompanied us upstairs to the above mentioned waiting room while he scouted around for our detective, whose name we had forgotten to bring. Another kind detective came out a few minutes later to let us know Det. Henson was out, but they would reach him by phone to find out how to proceed. It was explained that the items would not be released until after the Coroner's Inquest*, which is standard procedure. More nervous waiting, and a couple of updates later, a third detective, a tall, young man entered the waiting room clutching a couple of photocopied pieces of paper. He tried to prepare us and offered to make a copy of "the note" and send us home to read it, but I insisted on looking then and there, which I'm sure he was anxious about our reaction to.

In two pages of Adam's deteriorating chicken scratch, it was clear that Bella was on his mind as he wrote, "she isn't worth it," "she kind of used me" and other references to this being his last day. Keep Calm and Carry On was struggling with What the Fuck in my mind. There was clearly a decline in his handwriting and mental state as the note progressed, with alcohol playing a role as well. We read what we could and handed the letter back. The nice young man with the arduous job of delivering this note, again offered his condolences with true empathy. There will be time after the inquest to decipher and digest it more fully if we so choose. For now, I have the answers I need.

For the first time this morning, my thoughts go to, what if I had called him that Saturday, even if he didn't answer. Maybe I could have interrupted his downward spiral and got him to think outside of himself-you know, the Butterfly Effect (one of his favorite movies, by the way). That answer will not be so easy to come by.

* A Coroner’s Inquest is an inquiry into the manner and cause of an individual’s death, conducted by the Coroner or Deputy Coroner with a court reporter and six jurors present. The jurors are citizens of the county in which the death took place.

The purpose of an inquest is to present  information concerning the victim’s death in order for the jury to determine the cause and manner of a death. The cause of death is often readily apparent and obvious, based on the facts, circumstances, medical evidence and in some cases, toxicology and autopsy results. The real essence of the jurors’ responsibility is to establish the manner of death (Suicide, Homicide, Accident, Natural or Undetermined).