From Deseret News archives:
Parents hope their losses will save others
Book tells tales of teens killed in auto accidents in Utah
Their lives were decided in a matter of moments.
The moment Xander Jordan, 18, decided to respond to a text message.
The moment Calvin Hansen, 13, decided to take his seat belt off.
The moment Erica Trudy Knell, 17, decided not to wear her seat belt at all.
Those small decisions changed the lives of those they loved, and even those who hardly knew them.
Xander Jordan's dad said he was left to console a group of "misfit kids" at Xander's funeral who said they didn't know how to go on without him. A co-worker of Calvin Hansen's dad keeps Calvin's picture on his dashboard, as a reminder to his own children. Erica Knell's mother wears Erica's heart pendant around her neck and said she will until the day she dies.
These stories were only three of 13 that were told in a book, "Thirteen Stories We'd Rather Not Tell," compiled by the Utah Department of Health and Utah Teen Driving Safety Task Force to promote safety among teenagers. Some of the lives, and deaths, of 13 of the 29 teenagers killed in motor vehicle accidents in 2008 were highlighted Tuesday at a press conference.
The Department of Health's Kevin Condra said crashes of this kind are the No. 1 cause of death for 15- to 19-year-olds in Utah and that the state is aiming to reduce the number of those killed through its "Zero Fatalities" campaign. He said 2008's number of 29 was an improvement from the 40 killed in 2007, but that it was about more than statistics.
"Each one of these teenagers was a friend, a neighbor, a classmate, a relative," Condra said. "And each one had a dream that will never be fulfilled."
Troy Jordan, Xander Jordan's father, choked back tears as he read a school journal entry his son wrote the day he died, about all of the things he planned to do with his life. He wanted to get his pilot's license, get his skydiving certification, become a lawyer. Jordan said Xander liked to do things big, like an Eagle Scout project that delivered food to Indian reservations across the state. He said he was never home, and on the day of the funeral, he had a better idea why.
"People would come up and say: 'He fixed our sprinkler' or 'He mowed our lawn,' " Jordan said. "He was always helping somebody."
Jordan then laughed and said of his son, his voice laced with affection, "He was a pain in the butt." Jordan said that while he thinks Xander was probably "excited to be spinning" in his final moments, his own grief is tangible.
"I'll see somebody on the freeway texting or slowing down to text, and I want to reach out and touch them and just let them feel the grief," Jordan said.












