Missing Chapters

Last fall, when Heather and Jon Weis arrived at their son Nicholas’ gravesite at Alamance Memorial Park, they found a cast of a hand giving a thumbs up affixed to a black stand sitting under a tree on the plot.

“We drove up and saw it, but we have no idea who put it there,” Heather Weis told me Wednesday when I was at the gravesite watching a bronze QR code get attached to a piece of granite that already had a poem Nicholas wrote etched on it.

The Weises got on Facebook inquiring if any of their friends left it there, but no one claimed that small memento left in Nicholas’ honor.

“You couldn’t find something more perfect for out here,” Heather said.

Nicholas, who battled brain cancer for seven years and died a few days short of his 10th birthday on June 25, 2010, lived life to the fullest and always shared his genuine enthusiasm with others with a thumbs up. The life-size monument on his gravesite is of a smiling Nicholas giving his signature thumbs up. Last year, an anonymous person sent Heather thumbs-up earrings.

   Every time I talk to Jon and Heather, they have amazing stories to share about how they continue to be touched by people whose lives were somehow impacted by Nicholas. They have experienced a slew of odd occurrences — some people might call them coincidences but I know better — and I just love to hear about them.

It seems I’m always running on empty when our paths cross and when I leave them, my heart is full and my soul renewed.

The first time I met them was just a few days after Nicholas’ death. It was a Thursday evening and Jon and Heather were busy preparing for Nicholas’ visitation and funeral, which they referred to as the celebration of his life.

As a reporter, I frequently walk into people’s lives at the darkest times. Despite their unbearable pain and sadness at the loss of the love of both of their lives, Heather and Jon welcomed me without hesitation and introduced me to  Nicholas through their memories. Even Nicholas’ cat, Gabby Aunt Kathy, embraced me. The Weise told me stories, played a slide show, opened their hearts and gave me an incredibly honest view of their lives — the one they lived for more than nine years with Nicholas and the one they hoped to live without him here on earth.

It’s impossible to explain how much the experience moved me or how much Nicholas Weis, this little boy I never met, changed my life.

Nicholas, who told jokes on The Wake Up with the Wolf show on 93.1, just had a way about him. His parents were constantly in awe of his ability to touch people in a deep way. During that first interview, Jon told me, “We’d tell Nicholas, ‘We’re just along for the ride. We’re just hanging onto your coattails. Take us where you want to go.’”

Jon and Heather knew their son was special, and they encouraged him to share his gifts with others while he was alive and they continue to spread his enthusiasm and zest for life now that he is gone.

They seem to be endless balls of energy. Every time I see them, they both wear their son’s smile on their faces, even though I know their hearts still ache. They’ll always ache. I know they miss him terribly. I know they’d give up anything to have him in their arms again.

But that’s not their story.

Nicholas was only 2 when they learned he had an aggressive brain tumor that would return time and time again. Despite his diagnosis, this couple made a decision: They wanted to make every day count for their son.

As a result, Nicholas did more in nine years than many do in a lifetime. Now, even though Nicholas isn’t here, Jon and Heather continue to make every day count, despite their pain and loss. Theirs is a powerful story, for sure.

I’m sure Nicholas would give it a thumbs up.

When I heard that Burlington Christian Academy was holding a memorial service Thursday to remember 11-year-old Alex Ingle who died in November and that students were going to release butterflies, I knew it was finally time.

Last May, I wrote about Alex and his struggle with a rare cancer that he was fighting hard to beat. But after a more than a two-year battle, his body had enough. He died Nov. 7, 2011.

I first learned about Alex when I was covering a “Lemonade Day” fundraiser that BCA held to raise money for him. Students set up lemonade stands all over the county on May 7, 2011. It was an impressive sight.

I still recall interviewing this one boy, Nicholas Bond, who called his stand “Ade for Alex.” Nicholas, who was fairly new to the school at the time, didn’t know Alex that well because he had been sick for so long, but the importance of raising money to help a classmate in need wasn’t lost on him.

When I asked Nicholas why he had given up his Saturday and had gone to so much trouble to sell lemonade, he took a moment before he answered fully. I was touched by this thoughtful reply.

“I thought it was for a great cause,” he said and paused a moment to think. “I feel like it’s a better thing than just taking the money for myself. We pray for him every day.”

He shared some of Alex’s story and after others did as well. I wanted to know more so I set up an interview later that month with Alex’s parents, Vickie and Brad Ingle.

I spent a couple of hours listening to Alex’s parents as they explained the challenges of their son’s cancer. Ever since he had been diagnosed, no two days of their lives had been the same. From chemotherapy and radiation treatments to blood transfusions, surgeries and unexpected relapses, they all had been through a rough time.

When Alex asked if his cancer was curable, his parents didn’t hesitate to tell him yes. Their son was in a fight that his parents — everyone who knew him — hoped and prayed he would win.

I still remember my drive home from that interview. Thoughts raced in my head. Throughout my career, I’ve written about a lot of children battling cancer. It’s always a tough fight. I show up in the middle of it and fill my notebook with people’s pain and hope. Each time, I’m reminded about the power of prayer, the strength of community and the impact the kindness of others has on hurting hearts.

I merely capture a snapshot of a life without knowing what the future holds and present it to readers. Would Alex Ingle win his fight? I didn’t know. But as I stopped for a red light near my house on that drive home, I noticed the license plate of the car in front of me. It said “Ingle-1.”

Anyone who knows me well is aware that I’m a believer in signs. For me, that was a clear one. But I’ve been around long enough to know that sometimes winning doesn’t look like we expect it to here on earth. I said my own prayer, knowing full well it was completely in God’s hands.

Six months later, when I heard that Alex died, my heart ached for his family and for the life here on earth that little boy would never know. The baseball games he wouldn’t play. The Duke basketball teams he wouldn’t cheer on. The stories he wouldn’t tell. The hugs he could no longer share.

No matter how strong my faith, the death of a child is always difficult to reconcile. At the time, I wanted to share the rest of Alex’s story with readers, but I waited knowing that time would come.

Earlier this week, several BCA staff members took the time to talk to me about the butterflies growing in every homeroom. They showed me their netted cages and the cocoons hanging from coffee filters that weren’t quite ready yet.

In fact, on Tuesday, they thought the memorial service planned for Alex for Thursday that included an unveiling of a plaque that said “Alex Ingle, forever in our hearts” that now hangs in the gymnasium courtyard, wasn’t going to have any butterflies. They were behind schedule it seemed.

But that very day, a couple had emerged. I watched as new wings fluttered and filled with fluid, revealing those trademark vibrant colors.

Would there be more on Thursday?

The memorial service was touching. The Ingle family attended as well as the whole staff and entire student body. When Jane Fraser sang “Gift from Heaven,” I was moved by the silence and attentiveness of this group of kindergarteners through 12th graders sitting on cold pavement. They were the perfect audience.

When it came time to release the butterflies, the whole lot wasn’t ready but there were enough that took flight. Students helped unzip cages and stood to watch as the orange-and-black painted ladies took off. Sounds of giggles and laughter quickly filled the once quiet courtyard as the winged creatures haphazardly landed on fingers and heads.

Thursday’s light wind seemed to lead many of the butterflies in the direction of where I was sitting, not far from the playground.

They flitted and fluttered up, up, up into the sky.

Free at last.

I used to cover court when I was a reporter at the Daily News in Jacksonville, but I don’t find myself in the courtroom much anymore. On Monday, I spent the entire morning  in Alamance County Superior Court filling in for a fellow reporter and found myself taking notes on details that I knew would never make it into a story.

The reason for all the note taking: The presiding judge was Superior Court Judge Howard Manning Jr. of Wake County. He seems to take his duties very seriously and kept the attorneys and the defendants on their toes in an effort to squeeze as much as possible into the day. As a reporter who frequently hurries to get somewhere only to have to sit and wait for information, I appreciated the pace he set. I also found a lot of what he said, especially between cases, very entertaining.

As I told my co-workers as I was leaving work Monday: “Today was a lot of things but dull was not one of them.” I can definitely attribute a lot of that to Manning.

When District Attorney Pat Nadolski was calling defendants to the front of the courtroom,  Manning noted: “If all you all stopped smoking marijuana, the courtroom wouldn’t be so full.”

He seemed to have marijuana — and its impact — on his mind on Monday.

“On the West Coast marijuana is extremely strong and there is a bunch of potheads out there,” he shared as the background for his latest discovery that he read about in some article that morning.

“Pot-infused wine is all the rage in California,” he said. “… I hope that doesn’t happen in Alamance County.”

It was about that time that someone’s cell phone went off. Manning did, too.

“Who wants to go to jail for 10 days?” he asked, warning that’s what was going to happen to the next person whose cell phone rang. “You’re all not that important.”

Since my ringtone is currently set to “I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas” and it would have been very bad — very, very bad — if it went off in court, I quickly made sure my phone was set to vibrate.

Manning remained fairly even keeled while Patrick O’Neill, one the three people convicted last month of failing to disperse during a 2009 protest of the 287(g) immigration enforcement program, stood in front of him for a brief hearing Monday. O’Neill explained why he didn’t want to meet the conditions of his sentence, which was 10 days suspended, 18 months unsupervised probation and court costs and fines.

“I cannot pay fines and court costs to a system that’s mistreating my Latino brothers and sisters,” O’Neill said.

Manning didn’t want to hear anything about the case. He just wanted to set another court date to give O’Neill a chance to meet with his attorney. But it was clear that O’Neill’s request for a specific court date, rather than the one Manning chose to assign, got under the judge’s skin.

Later, long after O’Neill had left the courtroom, Manning referenced O’Neill several times, although he referred to him as “Mahatma Gandhi.”

At one point he asked Nadolski: “When is Mahatma Gandhi coming back? You know who I’m talking about. The guy who is above the law?”

When an inmate asked Manning if he could chose the court-appointed attorney who got assigned to him, the judge told him: “You don’t get to pick just like that guy didn’t get to pick what day he came back to court to make another speech.”

In discussions with another defendant, Manning said: “I’m not negotiating. I already had one guy show up this morning that Judge (Wayne) Abernathy is going to see because I’m not going to deal with him.”

He apparently also has an issue with how northerners drive.

“I’m not going anywhere unless somebody from New York or Massachusetts decides to run me over on my way home,” he said.

After listening to testimony in the sentencing hearing for Christopher Donaldson who pleaded guilty in February to several statutory rape offenses, Manning spoke before doling out his sentence. Just from listening to him all morning, I expected him to have a lot to say. He didn’t.

“I learned a long time ago that when it comes to sentencing, the best thing judges can do is say nothing,” he said. “… I remember my 40th birthday. I am now 68 years old and that’s a long time ago. That’s a long time ago.”

Manning sentenced Donaldson to nearly 30 years, which will run concurrently to a 20- to 24-year sentence he is already serving for a conviction of a similar crime in Guilford County. Donaldson will be almost 70 when he is eligible for release.

“He will be my age when he gets out, and he won’t be in a position to bother anybody when he’s 68 or 69 years old,” Manning said and added: “If he lives that long.”

In addition to covering the news on our individual beats, every six weeks or so, Times- News reporters are assigned a Sunday Accent front.

Since I spend most of my days asking questions about crimes, fires, wrecks and other news events, I sometimes struggle to come up with an idea for my Accent story. My latest one runs this coming Sunday and after a few misses, I finally came up with a story idea that worked for me.

I had a great interview, and I also had the opportunity to spend more than an hour this afternoon with Riley Foster at his studio/welding shop on Mill Creek Road in Mebane. It was a good change of pace for me. I might have even relaxed a little.

Foster is a self-taught folk artist who transforms discarded metal into amazing outside art. My husband and I first saw his work at Art on the Vine at the Winery at Iron Gate in Mebane last May. It immediately caught our attention, and I was very impressed by many of the pieces he’s created over the years that he has displayed in the woods next to his home.

Foster loves to tell people what something used to be before he turned it into some creative piece of yard art, and I was fascinated to find out. Some of his materials — the shell of a tractor, hubcaps, a butane tank — were easy to identify. Others — the back of a tricycle, a discarded sign, a bicycle fork — were a little harder to spot on my own but after Foster told me, I definitely could see what they had once been.

If you are interested in his work, he is the Carrboro Farmer’s Market every Saturday from7 a.m. to noon. Don’t forget to check out the story on Sunday’s Accent front.

As soon as I walked into the newsroom Monday, I found out that someone died in a house fire in Burlington that morning.

It’s definitely not a great way to start a Monday or the week. Obviously, my feelings about it don’t even compare to that of the family that lost someone in a fire or to the firefighters who had to douse theflames and deal with the loss.

Given the long hours he had already worked and the fact that I know he really, really, really dislikes fatal fires, Burlington Fire Deputy Chief Michael Willets was his usual friendly and helpful self when I arrived at the house on Cleveland Avenue on Monday.

He gave me some information and took me to an area where I could snap a photo. There are still a lot of unanswered questions. An autopsy that was done Tuesday revealed that smoke inhalation was the cause of death but additional tests have to be done to confirm the identity of the individual. There also was a lot of evidence collected that it’s in the process of being tested that will hopefully explain how the fire started.

As I was walking back to my car and chatting with Willets, my eyes fell upon an adorable

Special Agent Eric Wall raised his hands and slowly lowered them to get Winnie to sit and pose for the photo. It was impressive.

black Labrador retriever that was standing by a fire truck. Although I just wanted to wrap my arms around her neck and squeeze, I recognized very quickly that this dog was a
professional so my-animal-loving self needed to behave like one.

Winnie is an “accelerant detection” dog who is trained to assist State Bureau of Investigation Special Agent Eric Wall. Winnie sniffs through the soot and debris following a fire and helps investigators locate ignitable liquids. She lets them know when she finds ignitable liquid vapor simply by sitting down.

“Her reward is food and she thinks that it is a game,” according the message on the back of Winnie’s business card that Wall handed me after I snapped a photo of the dog.

Winnie, who was raised as a puppy by the Guiding Eyes for the Blind Foundation, was definitely a bright spot to my morning on Monday, and she got me thinking about all the dogs that provide services to people in Alamance  County, especially local law enforcement.

I’ve noticed that most of my Missing Chapters’ posts have been about death. That’s mostly because lately the stories I’ve covered have been about death. Technically, this post got its start because of death. But I figured I’d turn this blog post into a “bright spot” just like Winnie by sharing some information and photos about the dogs assigned to K-9 units
throughout the county.

I took this photo of Gibsonville Police officer Dan Emery and Rik when I did a story about them last spring.

Rik is a gold brindle Dutch shepherd at Gibsonville Police Department. He started working with Gibsonville Police officer Dan Emery last spring. Rik can follow a trail and differentiate scents when it comes to drugs. He is trained to bite, track and do searches as well as narcotics detection. I apparently took this photo of Rik and Dan when I did a story about them last spring.

Gibsonville Police officer Dan Emery found all of this stuff with Rik's help in a recent search.

Graham Police Department has two dogs, Nero, a Belgian malinois, and Sullivan, known as Sully, a red Labrador. Graham Police officer Robert Lovett handles Nero who is bite trained. He also can search out drugs and articles, such as evidence in a crime, and can track.

Times-News photographer Scott Muthersbaugh took this photo of Graham Police officer A.C. Walker and Sully last fall.

I wrote about Sully last fall when he joined the police force. Sully was so sweet, and it was clear that he and Graham Police officer A.C. Walker had already developed a bond. Sully can locate drugs, track suspects or help find a missing person and can search for evidence.

BurlingtonPolice Department has three dogs in the K-9 unit and is in the process of getting a fourth, said Burlington Police Lt. Brian Long. All of the dogs work with patrol officers and are used in apprehension, tracking, article searches and narcotics detection.

Burlington Police officer Tonia Taylor and Hasko.

Burlington Police officer Derrick Wilkie handles Kera.

Burlington Police Cpl. Jason Comer and his newest dog, Keno.

The Alamance County Sheriff’s Office has five dogs. The four that are handled by deputies on patrol are cross trained in tracking, narcotics detection, apprehension as well as in searches. Deputy Jason Canady handles Alan, a German shepherd. Deputy David Langston works with Spencer, a German shepherd. Deputy Josh Hall handles Edo, a German shepherd. Deputy Kathy Edmonds and Zila, a Belgium malinois, just finished training. Gambit, a Belgium malinois, works in the Alamance County jail with deputy Tom Santa. Gambit is mostly used for narcotics detection. He doesn’t bite.

(Photos of the Sheriff’s Office dogs weren’t immediately available.)

Elon Police officer Harold Dunn works with Atos, a German shepherd trained in narcotics detection, evidence searches and tracking. The two have worked together since October. Prior to Atos, Dunn worked with another German shepherd named Thor. He died unexpectedly on Labor Day last year at age 5. (There were no photos available of Atos

This photo was taken of Burlington Police officer Richard Marsh and Mishka prior to her recent retirement.

and Dunn.)

On Friday, while I was in the middle of writing a story about a report I received on an investigation at Alamance Regional Medical Center following an alleged rape of a patient in the behavioral medicine unit in February, my city editor Brent Lancaster forwarded me an email.

“Shame on the Times-News if they keep digging for news from the hospital misfortune,” the person wrote in the anonymous email. “They have been through one heck of a week and were found to be in compliance. Can’t you just let it go and not cause more problems, that only takes away time that could surely be used for patient care. I personally think your reputation will suffer from over exposing our hospital after they have satisfied the ones that are in control of their status. (Don’t know who the reporter is but please pass this on to whoever.) I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED.”

Personally, I am not one bit concerned that a Freedom of Information of Act request of a public document that outlines an investigation done by state and federal regulators of our local hospital following an alleged rape of a patient, who was being treated for mental health issues, will hurt the Times-News’ reputation or my own. Investigating incidents such as this one and making public record requests is the job of a reporter charged with fulfilling a newspaper’s role in any community.

I was doing my job.

The Times-News first learned about the rape on Feb. 20 from the Burlington Police Department. The incident allegedly occurred on Feb. 16. It was reported on Feb. 17. Dennis Cronin, 28, of Greensboro, was charged with second-degree rape on Feb. 20. Police provided some details. Hospital officials provided less, claiming federal privacy laws prevented the release of certain information, including where in the hospital the alleged rape took place.

Hospitals are fairly regulated organizations, especially if they are accredited by the Joint Commission. We knew some outside agency would have to investigate. I called the state Division of Health Service Regulation in Raleigh and spoke to a public information officer who directed me to the public information officer at the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services in Atlanta.

He also told me that there would be a report at some point, but it was doubtful it would contain much information.

I heard the same thing from the PIO at CMS, but I was directed to another person who could help me with the FOIA request. I had to write a letter, explaining why I wanted the public document, why I thought the release of the document should be expedited and why I thought the newspaper should receive the documents at no cost.

I expected to get the report, but I was expecting it three months from now. I also expected it to be filled with medical jargon and very little detail about what actually occurred. I received the report this week — only a week after the hospital’s “immediate jeopardy” status was lifted. It was filled with information. It was sent to me digitally. It was free. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised by the details.

It’s not because I want to stick it to the hospital or that I want to write the gritty details about an alleged rape. I believe the public who use that hospital, especially the families who have their loved ones involuntarily committed to the behavioral medical unit in an effort to help those patients get well and stay safe until that occurs, deserved to know.

A patient was allegedly raped by another patient while they were both being treated for mental health issues. As it turns out, according to the report, the patient, who was allegedly raped in her bathroom, told a nurse about it the next day, and the information wasn’t documented or reported to a nursing supervisor or either patient’s physician.

If the alleged victim didn’t later tell another nurse and a certified nursing assistant who did document and report it to superiors, Burlington Police Department might never have done an investigation. Cronin wouldn’t be sitting in Alamance County jail under $100,000 bond facing second-degree rape charges and a slew of issues, considered to be out of compliance by state and federal regulators, might still be going unnoticed.

John Currin, Alamance Regional’s president and chief executive officer, told me in an  interview Thursday that until he did an extensive internal investigation following the rape and called in state regulators, he didn’t know there were compliance issues in the BMU.

Clearly, as the report indicates and Currin himself said, corrections needed to be made. That all happened because the alleged victim told a nursing assistant and that information was relayed to another nurse who documented it and reported it, according to hospital policy. That’s what got the investigations — the hospital’s, the police department’s and the state’s Division of Health Service Regulations’ — started.

It should be noted that there are an average of 20 and sometimes as many as 25 patients on the BMU a day. Currin expects there will be 1,520 admissions to that unit this year. Mental health facilities are in short supply. Alamance County is fortunate to have a hospital that offers that service.

The people who are admitted have mental health issues. The physicians, nurses, nursing assistants who work with those patients have their hands full. There is absolutely no way that’s an easy job. The nurse who was originally told about the rape didn’t document it or report it. Why? She said she got distracted. Do I understand how that could happen in that job? Absolutely. Is it acceptable given that patient’s claims? No. Hospital policy clearly states the steps that have to be followed when a staff member becomes aware of a sexual
incident.

The investigation revealed that contraband searches and “occurrence reports” weren’t done routinely. Nursing assistants weren’t checking on patients every 15 minutes as expected, but there weren’t enough staff members to do it efficiently and no one was assigned to hold staff accountable. Patients weren’t supposed to be in each other’s rooms — a policy that wasn’t enforced.

There weren’t enough security cameras and even though there was a station where they could be monitored, that wasn’t happening. Even though security officers were available throughout the hospital, there wasn’t one assigned specifically to that unit to keep patients, staff and visitors to that unit safe.

A woman with a mental illness had stabilized enough that her physician was ready to release her. The night before that occurred, she was allegedly raped in a place where she should have expected she would be safe.

The person who sent the email mentions the hospital’s misfortune and “heck of week”  they’ve been through, and I’m sure that’s true. I hope the changes made at the hospital will benefit staff as well as patients. I live in Burlington. I want my local hospital to be successful. I want people who suffer with mental illnesses to have a local place to receive excellent care.

I just find it odd that the person who sent the email never once mentioned the woman, who was allegedly raped in a place where she was sent to get help, or the heartache and obstacles she now must overcome.

The anonymous email sender isn’t the only one who is disappointed.

I read a lot of autopsy reports.

It’s a habit I’ve developed over the years as a result of my beat as a crime reporter. When people are killed whether it be in a homicide, car wreck or some unusual circumstances, it’s my job to find out and report the official cause of death as determined by the medical examiner doing the autopsy.

Over the years, I’ve grown accustomed to the details included in these reports, which are heavy with medical jargon that usually doesn’t make it into a story. I generally concentrate on two sections: cause of death and summary and interpretation.

I request a copy of the medical examiner’s report as well as toxicology results as soon as I learn about a death. It frequently takes two or three months and sometimes longer before I actually get the report.

The timing is often unfortunate, especially for a family in the throes of grief. They are just starting to pick up the pieces and move forward when details of the cause of death are released. Some families welcome that follow-up story, hoping to clear up any questions raised at the time of death. Often when someone dies in a wreck or suspicious circumstances, law enforcement might suspect that alcohol or drugs are to blame based on evidence gathered at a scene. Toxicology and autopsy reports can provide much-needed answers.

There are times that the results of a report aren’t what a family expected, and some people don’t understand why I would report that information at all.

On Tuesday, I received an email from Olivia Kellogg regarding a follow-up article that I wrote about the death of Nicholas Bartlett Higgins, 25, of Hampstead, who died Jan. 2. He was in Burlington visiting family. Higgins drove his car into the front of a house on Blanche Drive at about 3:23 p.m. No one else was injured, but Higgins was found dead in the driver’s seat. At the time, police didn’t think he died as a result of the wreck. Autopsy and toxicology reports were requested to help provide answers.

At the time, someone from Higgins family called Times-News executive editor Madison Taylor and told him that Higgins had an enlarged heart and that his death was due to his heart condition. Taylor told him that we would report the cause once the state Medical Examiner’s office in Chapel Hill completed its report. It was released last Friday. I wrote a story that ran in Sunday’s newspaper.

The subject line in Kellogg’s email said: “Please help me understand.”

This is her email: “I hope you realize how hurtful the story is to Nic’s friends and especially his family. We have all been struggling for the past two months. It is beyond my comprehension as to why you would even publish this story being that it has been TWO MONTHS since this happened. Nic was a good guy, probably one of the best guys I knew. He was nice to EVERYONE, was the BEST stay-at-home father I’ve ever known and a good husband to his wife. His family has desperately been trying to rebuild their lives and seeing something as mean spirited and senseless as this article helps NO ONE. Except for maybe you, which is pretty selfish. I don’t appreciate the light you painted Nic in and hope that maybe some of what I said helps set the record straight. Or maybe you’ll just sell a lot of articles, the money’s all it’s about anyway. Enjoy leaching off the dead and their family members.”

Kellogg asked me to help her understand so I responded to her email and explained my actions. I figured if she had questions, others did, too, so I’ll answer them here.

She questioned the timing of my article since Higgins died Jan. 2. Why would I report this three months later? The autopsy was actually done at 11:45 a.m. Jan. 3 by Dr. Samuel D. Simmons. But it wasn’t digitally signed by Simmons until 3:28 p.m. Thursday and wasn’t released to me until about 3 p.m. Friday.

According to the report, Higgins did have an enlarged heart with scar tissue and extensive adhesions. He had a history of “remotely repaired congenital heart disease.” His underlying heart disease definitely contributed to his death, but it didn’t cause it.

Drug paraphernalia and a can of computer spray cleaner with the top broken off were found inside the vehicle, according to police reports the medical examiner received. He used that information combined with what he found during the autopsy to determine the cause of Higgins’ death.

“Given the investigative and autopsy findings, it is our opinion that the cause of death in this case is difluoroethane toxicity. This compound is commonly found in computer spray cleaner and can have cardiotoxic effects. The decedent’s underlying cardiovascular disease is a significant factor and would have increased his susceptibility to the effects of difluoroethane,” the report states.

In this case, if Higgins died in the privacy of his home, his death and the cause more than likely would have remained private. But he didn’t die at home.

He died while driving a car, which according to the law is a deadly weapon, and was on a public road. As a result of his choice to drive a car that day while he was, according to the medical examiner, under the influence of a chemical in the computer spray cleaner, he drove his car into a person’s home. That choice ultimately resulted in his death.

Over the years, I have received letters, emails, phone calls and visits from family members distraught because their loved one was killed by another driver. Sometimes drugs and alcohol were contributing factors. There were times that inattention or a slippery road or even a car malfunction were the reason.

Often, it didn’t matter why it happened. A loved one was gone and, in the mind of the family member, that other driver was to blame. Period. They didn’t care that the driver never intended to hurt anyone or that he or she made a mistake. They’re loved one wasn’t coming back. They’ve asked me to stay on top of the investigation. They’ve requested we continue to follow a story until the driver went to court and justice was served. They did what they could to ensure that another family wouldn’t experience their pain. At times, they, too, have yelled and screamed or sent emails accusing me of doing harm to a grieving family.

The woman who lived in the house that Higgins hit was home at the time, but she was in the back of the house and wasn’t injured. She could have been. She could have been killed along with other drivers who shared the road with Higgins that day.

Thankfully, no one else was hurt. Unfortunately, a young man — a father, husband, son, brother and friend — lost his life way too soon. It’s sad. People are hurting. I know that is part of what fueled the anger in Kellogg’s email to me.

Here is part of my email response to her: “It’s a tragedy. I am sorry for him and his family. I have no doubt he was a good person. I didn’t paint him in a negative light. I reported facts from a medical examiner’s report. It doesn’t change who he was in the least. He’s still the same good man and good father that you remember him to be.

“I write these stories to inform the public. That is my job. Why is that important? Maybe some family won’t have to go through what Nic’s family is going through right now because this story was shared. Maybe someone won’t die because they’ll understand just how potent some chemicals are if they are inhaled.”

I have a confession to make.

I don’t remember the names of everyone I’ve interviewed. I, however, usually remember the interview, the people and the stories that are shared.

So when I returned Jacqueline Barnett’s phone call Monday morning and she told me that her father, Calvin Jeffries, died, I didn’t immediately realize that I had interviewed Jeffries in the past. Barnett mentioned that she had already spoken to my editor Madison Taylor about doing a story on her father, but the reason she called me was because I had written about her family before. She didn’t provide any other details. Our conversation was brief, and I told her I’d check with my editor about who would do the follow-up story and left it at that.

Reporter Chris Lavender was assigned the follow-up story on Jeffries. I spent Monday writing about a brawl outside a bar in Graham and tried to get some details about renovations made at University Grill after Chef Robert Irvine and the folks from “Restaurant: Impossible” did the big reveal at the restaurant on March 1.

It was late in the day Monday during a conversation with Taylor, who was explaining to me that Jeffries came to the Times-News two days before he died with a story idea, that I realized I had interviewed him before.

“He’s the lion man,” I exclaimed as a flood of memories rushed into my brain.

I met Jeffries in June 2009 after one of the people working on his farm on Pleasant Grove School Road spotted a lion. Jeffries called me to let me know about it and then drove me all over northern Alamance County so I could interview people and see all the places where the lion was spotted.

As I said earlier, I interview a lot of people and it’s tough to remember every name. However, I don’t write about lion sightings every day. The story was definitely memorable as was Jeffries.

He introduced me to J.B. Ross, the 76-year-old man who was raking hay on the farm when he spotted what he described as a female lion that was “poor as a snake,” Ross said. “I could count every rib.”

One of the biggest regrets of my career was that I didn’t have my video camera with me when I interviewed Ross. He was an incredibly entertaining character, but his Southern accent was thick. I kept turning to Jeffries to help me understand.

Jeffries seemed right at home on the farm. I learned during our lengthy drive around northern Alamance  County that the farm was his ancestral home — the place where he was born. Despite his obvious comfort there, it was crystal clear that Jeffries had lived in other places. In fact, Jeffries traveled the world serving 28 years as a pilot in the U.S. Air Force. He retired with the rank of lieutenant colonel in 1986.

Jeffries was an incredibly friendly and personable man. While he didn’t see the lion himself in June 2009, he thought it was important that the people who lived in that area be made aware of it, especially because it was so close to Pleasant  Grove Elementary School.

Jeffries even drove me to the Conservators’ Center in southern Caswell County, which is a non-profit center that rescues wildlife in need, including lions. Jeffries wondered if a lion at the center got loose. Officials there said all their lions were safe and sound.

Jeff Brown, an officer with the N.C. Wildlife Commission, had his doubts that Ross even saw a lion. Ross insisted that’s what he saw.

“I seen him three times,” Ross said. “I’d bet my life on it. It was a lion. I never seen a dog like that. I never seen a big cat like that.”

Jeffries never doubted him.

Jeffries died March 1. He was 76. His funeral is March 8, and he will be buried in Arlington National Cemetery on March 23.

I was planning to visit Arlington National  Cemetery this spring, and I’m sure I will look for Calvin Jeffries’ name.

Even if I can’t find his gravesite, I’m fairly sure I’ll always remember him. After all, he is the lion man.

In the first four days of last week, I was collecting information for four separate stories and communicated with several parents who have all lost children.

Two died suddenly in wrecks. One at the hands of a drunk driver. The other in a foreign country while serving in the Peace Corps. One died from a disease he battled his entire life. And the last one, technically she isn’t dead. However, she’s been missing for three years. Alamance County Sheriff’s investigators think she is dead. Her mother does, too.

Only one, 20-year-old Mikey  Walker, actually died last week. He had congenital erythropoietic porphyria, a rare disease that essentially made him allergic to the sun. He died in hospice care on Feb. 19. I interviewed his mother Angela Walker and stepfather Ed Walker in their home on Feb. 20 after they finished planning the details of their son’s funeral.

Sharing stories about Mikey and talking about the obvious impact he had on people made them smile. I think in many ways they both thought Mikey cheated death for a long time. He outlived any life expectancy the doctors, who still know so little about the disease, ever provided and were so grateful for the time they had. While the end came quick, Mikey had time prepare his family. There were tears — he will be greatly missed — but he gave them the strength to get through the rough patches.

It was Mikey’s uncle who emailed me to let me know Mikey died because he knew I had written about his nephew in spring 2010. I appreciated him letting me know and asked if the Walkers were interested in talking. He let me know they wanted me to call.

I was grateful to have Uncle Travis as my go between. It was obviously a tough time for the Walkers and the last thing I wanted to do was intrude on their grief. I’ve learned over the years that I shouldn’t assume parents want to talk to a reporter following the death of their child. For most, if not all, it’s the worst day of their lives. I definitely don’t want to make it any worse.

But I also can’t assume they don’t want to be interviewed because many parents have opted to talk to me. For some, it’s an opportunity to celebrate their daughter or son’s life. For others, especially if the child died at the hands of another, it’s the chance to focus on a life lived rather and the depth of the loss. Sometimes sharing a personal story, especially in an unsolved homicide, keeps the death in the news and can potentially generate information that leads to an arrest.

That’s why I interviewed Sherry Cloninger last week. Her daughter Jana “Michelle” Morton has been missing for three years. Her body still hasn’t been found. At this point, Cloninger doesn’t even care if anyone is charged with her daughter’s death. She just wants her body.

“We need to bring her home,” Cloninger told me.

Whatever their personal reasons, I try as often as possible to give parents the option, especially if I can work through a third party — a relative or family friend — to help make it happen. I absolutely dread making a cold call to the house, but I’ll do it if it’s absolutely necessary.

Sometimes a parent is just unable to talk immediately after a death, which is understandable, and I let them know that if the time comes when they are ready, they can call me.

I spoke briefly with retired SuperiorCourt Judge Steve Balog the day after his 26-year-old daughter Emily Balog, who was serving as a volunteer in the Peace Corps, was killed in a car wreck in Paraguay on Nov. 27. I contacted a family friend in an effort to get word to the Balogs that I was doing a story. I had a press release from the Peace Corps and didn’t want them to be surprised by the news coverage. I also just wanted to give them a chance to comment.

My conversation with Steve Balog that first day was brief. He thanked me for letting him know and said he just wasn’t able to talk. Last week, I had the opportunity to interview Steve and Susan Balog at their home because they are planning a trip to Paraguay in May. They will meet all the people who had become such an integral part of their daughter’s life since she started her Peace Corps service June 1, 2010. They also have donated money to Habitat for Humanity Global Village to have a house built in Paraguay in her name.

The Balogs shared a tribute video with me that fellow Peace Corps members made for them. They showed me the American and Peace Corps flags they were given that are part of a memorial display they’ve created on a bookshelf. The shelf also holds a worn-out pair of Emily’s shoes she bought while studying abroad in Florence, Italy and a terrere, which is a thermos wrapped in leather, that Emily made and one that her community in Paraguay made for her.

While it’s been three months since their daughter’s death, talking about her was still incredibly hard for both of them. When I’d ask a question that was difficult for Susan Balog to answer, Steve Balog would start and when he became too emotional, she would finish. I was so grateful they had each other.

I continue to think about something Susan Balog said when she spoke about her grief: “I think the hole that’s in my heart will become my friend …”

Sometimes a grieving parent will struggle with anger for awhile. Some battle those feelings for a lifetime. Sometimes that anger is directed at the newspaper or the reporter that covered the story about their child’s death.

In the case of Keith Jones, the father of 17-year-old Darren Jones killed by a drunk driver on Interstate 40/85 last summer, he was angry by what he considered to be the lack of coverage of his son’s death by the Times-News. I received an email from him on Feb. 19. He wanted to remind me that Curtis Lutterloh, 29, the man charged with killing his son and injuring 38-year-old Carl Wheeler was expected to plead guilty on Feb. 21. He wanted to make the sure the Times-News didn’t forget to cover the case because he already felt like the paper didn’t give the story enough attention.

“As a Times-News subscriber, I am very disappointed in how your paper has kept up with this case,” he wrote in his email. “There has been very and I do mean very little about it. I have seen other things get a lot more coverage. Kids that OD or took the wrong meds, which is very sad, got a lot more coverage then this where a drunk driver killed a young man and seriously injured another man. The Times-News did a couple of articles and then let them drop through the cracks.”

Initially, his words stung a little. I wrote two stories about the wreck and the investigation and a third story once Lutterloh was charged. On Feb. 19, I was definitely bothered by Jones’ email and his feelings about the Times-News’ coverage — my coverage — of the story. I don’t like  disappointing people, especially in relation to my coverage of a young person’s death. I spent some time thinking about how I handled the story: the people I called, the questions I asked and the public records I dug up.

Was it enough? Jones didn’t think so. Honestly, the only thing I hadn’t done was ask Darren’s parents if they wanted to talk so I wrote back to Jones, offered to interview him and assured him that the Times-News would follow the story to the end. Michael Abernethy, the court reporter for the Times-News, covered Lutterloh’s hearing on Feb. 21.

Jones’ sister called me Feb. 20 to thank me for writing back to her brother. She said he still wasn’t able to talk. She was planning to read a victim-impact statement at the hearing. She explained how much the entire family continued to struggle with Darren’s death and the fact that Lutterloh was potentially not going to serve any time in prison for killing him. He ended up getting sentenced to 41 to 59 months. I’m sure that helped, but the road to healing and forgiveness is often long and rocky.

Over the years, I’ve learned that interviewing grieving parents is undoubtedly one of the most difficult parts of my job. At times, it is also the most rewarding. There is no doubt the pain parents feel is  deep and immense, especially if a child died suddenly.

But there are few people who have taught me as much about faith and hope as the parents who find the strength and courage to go on after such a tremendous loss — the people who find a way to live a full and meaningful life, despite that permanent hole in their hearts.

They are truly inspirational.

There are cellphones, smart phones, iPhones and, as I learned recently, something that law enforcement refers to as the “throw down”  phone.

From what I can tell, it is called that because that’s exactly what alleged drug dealers will do with cellphones — specifically designated for that purpose — when they no longer want to be associated with it.

I guess they “throw down” the phone.

While investigating the murder of James Kyle Roland, who was shot to death on Dec. 7 and found outside a residence on N.C. 119 in Mebane, Alamance County Sheriff’s detectives obtained warrants to search multiple cellphones, including two they referred to as “throw down” phones.

The motive for Roland’s murder was initially thought to be “an armed robbery involving illegal narcotics and money.” He also might have been killed as part of a “gang initiation,” according to search warrants.

Jose Torres, 21, Reginald Keith Watson, 21, and Antonio McMillan, 19, were all charged with first-degree murder in the case and are awaiting a rule 24 hearing in March to determine whether they could face the death penalty if convicted.

According to information Torres allegedly told investigators, he brought Watson and McMillan to Roland to buy drugs. When Roland was weighing the marijuana, Watson and McMillan allegedly pulled guns on Roland. In response, Roland pulled out a gun as well, although he eventually put it away and told them to take the drugs. When he walked away, McMillan allegedly pulled the trigger and shot Roland multiple times in the back, according to search warrants.

That all still needs to be sorted out in court.

During the investigation, the Sheriff’s Office stumbled upon multiple cellphones that investigators thought might provide evidence in the case.  Investigators seized and ultimately searched phones that belonged to Torres, Torres’ girlfriend, Watson and several that belonged to Roland. From what I can tell, they don’t have McMillan’s phone.

However, there were two phones located at the crime scene — one on top of TV in the living room and one under the driver’s seat of an out-of-service car in the garage — that couldn’t be linked to anyone without searching them for information. Despite what the average person might think, law enforcement officers are not allowed to search through a cellphone without a warrant.

This is why I now know about the “throw down” phone. It was a term used in a search warrant obtained to search those two cellphones found at the crime scene.

According to warrants, the crime scene was allegedly “known to contain controlled substances and is a known location for the sale and transaction of controlled substances.”

Alleged drug dealers “use multiple cellphones to conduct their business,” the warrants state. “One cellphone to conduct their everyday, legitimate affairs and one cellphone to conduct their illegal affairs often referred to as ‘throw down’ phones.”

Both phones found at the crime scene apparently had “the appearance of throw down phones due to their simplicity, lack of of advanced features and cell services by a prepaid company.”

It seems to me that investigators might not be able to link the phones to specific individuals, which is the purpose of a “throw down” phone, I guess. But they might have access to call history and other pertinent details that will aid the investigation.