I'll Never Forget

That Day, One Year Ago

On Wednesdays, Jenny would work the opening shift at Marshall Field & Co. at Water Tower Place. She would drive her car to the Green Line stop at Harlem Avenue and catch the El around 7:30 in the morning. Wednesday, June 14, 2006 started out like any other Wednesday.

I got out of bed around 7:00 to be greeted by an already showered and dressed, beautiful wife of 15 years. Mason got up a few minutes later and we said goodbye to Mama. Like many couples, we exchanged the "I'll see you tonight" and a peck, I had no idea that I'd never see her or hold her again. I hopped in the shower and got ready for work, it was summer vacation and my first job of the day was to drop Mason off at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Jenny would be there after work to pick her up.

I held a weekly sales meeting at my office on Wednesdays, we started at 9:00. I don't recall the meeting topic, but I'm sure it revolved around things like improving client retention, finding more clients or increasing productivity - pretty normal stuff in any business. I went about my day, talking to clients, reassuring loan officers, eating lunch at my desk, structuring loans, etc. Everything was normal until I got that call from Mason around 4:45 saying, "Mama's not here yet. I've called Marshall Field's, they said she left a couple of hours ago." I told her, "There's probably something wrong with the El, or she missed her bus. She'll be there soon."

I tried to reach Jenny on her cell, nothing, just got her voicemail. "Hi, this is Jenny. You've reached my cell phone, please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

About 30 minutes later, Mason called again. "Papa, Mama's still not here. She always calls if she's going to be late." I reassured my daughter and told her I would track her mother down and call her back in a couple of minutes. At this point, I wasn't worried - who would be? Jenny was only an hour and a half late, by Chicago's (and mine) standards, that's not too unusual - but, Mason was right, this was strange by Jenny's standards.

When I called Marshall Field's, I was told that someone would have to call me back. "Now that's odd," I thought. After about five minutes, no call, so I called back. This time I was transferred to someone in HR. I asked if he knew what time Jenny left work, he said that there had been an accident at work and that someone else would call me back. I explained that my office is only a few minutes away, and that I'd be right over. I gave him my cell number for this other person to call me back and promptly left the office.

I was at the intersection of Chicago and Wells when my phone rang. It was a detective with the Chicago Police Dept. He told me that Jenny had had a serious accident and asked if he could send a squad car to pick me up. When I told him I was only a few blocks away, he told me where to park and that officers would be waiting for me, and that they would watch my car while I went into the store.

I hung up the phone. Now I was worried. My heart started racing. What happened? How badly is she hurt? It must be bad, the cops are going to "watch" my car, during rush-hour in downtown Chicago! When I arrived at the spot where the detective told me to go, two officers greeted me. "Are you Mr. Rose?"

"Yes"

One of the officers said, "We'll watch your car, you should go in and ask for the HR Manager."

"OK"

"Mr. Rose, prepare yourself. It's pretty bad."

I literally felt my knees buckle and my heart drop into my stomach as I began to walk toward the entrance. I was met by a woman wearing a radio earpiece, she asked me to follow her. I did. (While I recall most of the details of this tragic day, I don't remember everyone's name. I could probably, if I thought hard enough, but for a few of the people involved, this was the first and last day I saw them - so it makes it hard to remember). We, along with several other security and management personnel, walked through some back rooms and hallways till we reached the loading dock of the store. There, just before we got on the elevator to go to the stock room, the woman pulled me aside and told me that Jenny had died.

I was in shock. I just stood there with a blank look on my face. I thought, "this woman is crazy", "what am I doing here?", "just shut-up and take me to her." We rode the freight elevator up to the 6th floor stock room where a couple of detectives asked me to "have a seat".

"No, I'll stand. Where's my wife?" I just stood there with a blank stare and tears rolling down my face. My mind was racing and standing still at the same time. After they asked me a few questions, I asked again. "Where's Jenny, can I see her?" The policeman advised against that. He said that the paramedics had done everything to revive her, but their efforts were unsuccessful.

At that point, I lost it. I cried, I screamed, I threw things - I just lost it. About the time I calmed down, Lisa showed up. Lisa is one of Jenny's long-time friends. A few minutes later, Tracey appeared, then Elly. Word had traveled quickly (much quicker to them than to me - throughout all of this, remember that Mason and I had been trying to find out where Jenny was for several hours. Nobody called us. The only reason we found out anything when we did, is because Jenny was late. What if she had an appointment after work? What if she planned on stopping by her real estate office? Who knows when we would have been told?) After a long time of crying and explaining to Lisa, Tracey and Elly, Elly offered to drive me home and a couple of Marshall Field's employees followed in my car. Now comes the hard part...

On the way home, I called Jenny's brother, Rob, in Florida. I also called Jenny's parents and explained that Jenny had an accident and I would be home in a few minutes to fill them in.

While the rest of the evening is quite vivid, I don't think I can write the details here. Not yet. Maybe someday.

Our lives are much different one year later. My goals have changed, my objectives are different. Somedays I don't know which end is up - and unfortunately, bad things continue to happen and we have to deal with them. It hasn't gotten easier yet. I hope it will, until then we'll just keep getting through each day as best we can. Jenny, we miss you!

Love,

Max and Mason