Hudnall's Hope Task Force, with the help of teachers and counselors, identified at-risk students and put them on what he called "suicide watch." Crisis workers interviewed them to see if they needed additional counseling.

School staff was on high alert. "Keep your antenna up," Brown and Nissen warned their colleagues.

Several social service groups came in to speak to the school's 480 students about depression and suicide. As a result, six students referred themselves to nearby Four Corners Behavioral Health.

School officials continued the delicate juggling act of educating young people on the subject without inflaming the community.

It was a school community's worst nightmare coming true.

"Contagion is the one that scares us the most," said Hudnall, who did community meetings and school trainings after Brandon's death.

"You always have a small group who are on the edge," he said. "All they need is one more excuse to push them over."

At one funeral, Hudnall overheard kids say things like, "If you're going to die, this is the way to go." It's a stark example of the psychology and thoughts that must be defused to prevent "contagion" deaths, Hudnall explained.

So teachers and counselors kept hammering home the point: "Suicide is not an option" and "We will not honor people who take their life with suicide."

Official efforts not to allow other students to glamorize or memorialize the Moab suicides seemed harsh to some.

Students put up informal pictures and memorials in the hall. Administrators took them down. Someone wanted to plant a tree. The school said no. Would either of the students be acknowledged in the yearbook? No.

Today a trophy case in the gym contains a memorial plaque of Lynelle Chavez, a Grand County basketball player who died in 1992 at age 16. Photos of Matt Relph, who died July 13, 2003, and Jeff Meador, who died in 1977, are nearby.

There is no sign of Stephen or Brandon.

 · · · 

"These songs are how I feel since I can't really explain it." — From Katherine's suicide note, found Sept. 24, 2004

 · · · 

Katherine Langdon loved music and she loved it loud.

The rock band A Perfect Circle was in the portable CD player on her bed when her foster mother found her body Sept. 24, 2004 — 11 days after Brandon died. Maybe she had listened to a track titled "The Hollow." Maybe she listened to "Sleeping Beauty."

After several tumultuous years, the young woman who always signed her name "Katherine Langdon, The 1st" ended her life with a series of hopeless, apologetic notes.