Driving a car is a responsibility, not a luxury. You are wrapped in 3000+ pounds of glass and metal that can kill someone if you do not pay attention. My son lost his life because someone thought their phone was more important than paying attention to the road. The driver thought he could take his eyes off the road for five seconds and it wouldn’t hurt anything. It did more than just hurt something; it devastated a family in a matter of seconds.

Dev was riding his bike to work at the Deseret Industries in Harrisville. He was sitting on his bike, listening to his music, at the intersection of Wall Avenue and North Street waiting for the light to change. The light changed and Dev started to cross the intersection. The driver was headed North on Wall Avenue and was texting on his phone. He didn’t see the light turn red. He hit my son at 50 miles per hour. Dev was thrown into the hood and windshield of the car that had hit him. He rolled over the car and onto the pavement where his body finally came to a stop in the middle of the road.

Dev was rushed to the hospital and into surgery. For four days, I begged God to please open Dev’s eyes so I could look into them and let him know I was there; to let me be able to say I love you one last time. At 9:00 a.m. on July 11, 2013, the neurosurgeon pronounced my son brain dead. I knelt beside his bed, holding tight to his hand, and felt his life slip away. I felt a part of me die as well. I never got the chance to look into his eyes and say, “I love you, baby.”

Dev loved life and held nothing back. He lived his life to the fullest and enjoyed every minute of it. He loved doing things with his cousins, his friends and his family. Camping, snowboarding, free running and Parkour were some of his favorite things to do. Dev was only 18 years old. He had his whole life ahead of him, and now it’s gone. Gone, because the driver thought his phone was more important than watching the road. Gone, because the driver forgot that he was in something that could kill someone if he didn’t pay attention. He did kill someone, my son, and “I’m sorry” will not bring Dev back. The driver has to live with the guilt of killing an 18-year-old kid, and I have to live without my son. No phone call or text is worth taking someone else’s life!

MY SON LOST HIS LIFE BECAUSE SOMEONE THOUGHT THEIR PHONE WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN PAYING ATTENTION TO THE ROAD.

2013 Teen Memoriam