Everyone experiences a moment in their lifetime in which they decide that they must take a stand. My moment came at the time of a funeral for my dear friend.

On a spring afternoon in 2013, the schools of my community gathered for an unforgettable funeral. Upon walking in the the dimly lit gymnasium the sounds of muffled sniffling and “Fix You” by Coldplay hit me; the smell of burning candles engulfed me. Upon taking my seat I could clearly view pictures of the lost at joyful moments of their lives. My emotions held strong until a photo scrolled across the screen. The photo focused in on two young girls hugging on the beach. Upon glancing at this photo, I realized the girls in the picture were myself and Karlee.

At this point in time, tears began gently streaming down my face. A man dressed in black somberly walked to the podium at the front of the gymnasium. He spoke of the tragedy our community was experiencing in the loss of the six young teens.

These young lives we lost the night of their senior prom. On their way home, their car was struck by a fellow student who was under the influence of alcohol. The impact instantly took the lives of all but the drunk driver.

The somber man, and the students shared in a moment of silence for the lost. Following the lull moment, the man introduced the mother of one of the lost loved ones. The woman’s name was Kathy Bocken, she had lost her beloved daughter Katy. With an uncertain tone and a trembling in her voice, the grieving mother began to speak. She spoke of how she would never again share phone calls with her sweet Katy. They would never again be able to share the words “I love you” and “I love you more”. These words, so often forgotten, or taken for granted were taken away from Katy and her family as a result of the drunk teen’s decision to drive that night.

The next speaker was a teacher from Saint Edmond High School. Mr. Szalat walked up to podium, very slowly, with his head facing the wooden gymnasium floor. A hush fell over the students as they looked into the teachers eyes and saw the tears being withheld in the man’s saddened gentle eyes. He hesitantly began to speak. He spoke of his high school experience, and of the decisions he had to make at that point of his life. His story of the uphill climb of his choice to go against the crowd and graduate sober had led him to the apex of that hill. As a result of his wise choices, he now had the family he had always dreamed he would. Remaining sober through his high school career had saved him the pain of knowing his decision to drive drunk would take lives. He looked up at the students, myself included, sitting spiritless in the gymnasium bleachers where so many joyful events had been celebrated. His profound words rang in the ears of the students; his powerful message had been heard.

Following this man’s moving speech,the lights dimmed, the pictures once again rolled across the screen. A voice was heard from the suspended speakers, the voice was of my dear friend Karlee. Her words echoed through the desolate gymnasium. They spoke of her dreams she would never be able to see through: attending the University of Iowa in the fall, traveling to mission trips, meeting the man of her dreams, walking down the isle, and having children of her own. Tears began rolling down my face once again as her senior portraits flashed across the screen.

The five other deceased students voices were heard as they spoke of their dream. Looking to my left and right in the gymnasium that spring afternoon, I could not find a dry eye. The students of the two schools shed gentle tears for the innocent lives lost by the un-cautious decision for the drunk student to drive.

The dimmed lights brighten. The six children walked into the gymnasium dressed in all black. They took turns speaking of how innocently their lives could have been taken due to the irresponsible students decision. They proceeded to tell us that the funeral was not real, and no lives had been taken. This funeral was scheduled in order to start a movement against drunk driving.

Tears of joy were shed throughout the gymnasium, in relief that the students were still with us. The large room remained silent as we all began to process what had happened that spring afternoon.

The assembly ended, and the students began parading somberly and silently through the doors. As my row began to exit the bleachers, I turned the opposite way and began making my way towards Karlee. I hugged her immediately and we both began to cry.

It was in that moment that I realized things had to change. I, as well as the rest of the student body, needed to take a stand against drunk driving.