An Ordinary Day

I wrote the following in the days following Mary Babb's murder. For those of you who don't know, Mary was murdered by her estranged husband, Tom, in the parking lot of the newspaper where she worked. She left behind a young son, Sam, who she loved more than life itself. I will remember you always Mary and I pray for peace for your family and friends.


Mary Babb's passing made me look back realize how odd it is – the things you remember about a day, an event, an incident. But the most important thing we can all remember is the people.

January 9, 2007 started no different than any other day.

For January the weather is especially warm. I'm running a couple minutes late and hurry to get to work. Nancy VO and I go to the break room to get our morning beverages. I notice on the calendar today is Jillian's birthday and make note to "Happy Birthday!" her when she comes in.

At lunchtime I have a nail apppointment but Danielle and Christine want to eat Chinese buffet for lunch. Even though I may be a little late getting back, I join them. Friends are important. I can stay late tonight to make up my time.

Late in the afternoon I pass Angel in the hallway outside IT. She looks so uncomfortable. I talk to the baby in her belly. "Baby, I think Mamma would like you to come out now. She's awful uncomfortable and I can't wait to see you." She laughs and agrees and is on her way out the door. Shortly after I hear a noise that sounds like someone dropping a box of books next to the far end filing cabinet in editorial – the department next to mine. I now know that was Tom ramming Mary's SUV.

Angel runs back in the building and past my desk. My first thought is the baby. "Is everything okay?" "No, no it's not." Right after her is Nancy Shack. She replies to the questioning look on my face. "Mary Babb's husband just shot her twice in the parking lot."

I grab Maureen who is standing only a cubicle away. On our way to the front office I tell her what happened. I hear a lady at the circulation counter says "I have his license plate number."

We gather in the entryway. The faces of my coworkers, the police, witnesses and, what seemed like at the time, never-ending tears and prayers are a blur. We watch as Don and Donna crouch down leaning inside Mary's overturned SUV. I thank God that Mary isn't alone out there.

I go to my desk to get my cell phone and see I have a voicemail. Michelle's panicked voice is on the other end. "I heard there was a shooting at the Sun. You have to call and tell me you're okay!" her voice cracks. All I can say to my dad is "Daddy, it's gonna come on the news that something happened at work. You need to know that I'm okay." More calls to family and friends. They shouldn't have to wonder when they hear.

The ambulance drives away and there is no siren. I know in my heart Mary is gone – but how do you tell that to someone?

I stand in the lobby looking outside at Mary's overturned SUV. I watch it for awhile not wanting to leave it cold and alone.

I need copy from Mindy and a photo from Dick to finish a promotional ad. Renee comes to my desk and starts talking. I'm not able to comprehend what she was says. It takes too much to focus on her voice. Jim stepped in behind her. His voice is strong and I hear him say "Janet, you need to move your car. And, if you can, you need to go home."

I'm sitting in my car in the far parking lot talking on the phone with my friend Laura when suddenly she stops talking and then "Janet, I'm so sorry. It just came on the news she died." It hardly seems fair. Mary's family isn't here yet. They should know first.

The phone calls, messages and emails don't stop – family, friends, co-workers, business associates – one right after another. We are blessed by the outpouring of compassion we receive during the days that follow.

It is important to me to remember everything about that entire day. Because no matter how "ordinary" someone's day may begin, we – as family, friends, associates and even as community members – we may make a difference in the way their day ends.

Thank you all for making a difference in my life – that day and every day.