Note: The following is the victim impact statement written by the family of Cassidy Charette, who died after a trailer she was riding on overturned Oct. 11, 2014. The family’s attorney, Jodi Nofsinger, read the statement aloud in court. It was written from Cassidy’s point of view.
Harvest Hill Farm, the Mechanic Falls property where Cassidy died, has pleaded guilty to one count of aggravated driving to endanger, a Class C felony.
Statement from Cassidy
The natural order in life is the expectation that your parents will go before you, and you, as their child, will proudly carry out their legacy. I was not given that opportunity. Instead, it is my parents who are now the keeper of my light and who give me a voice here today.
I am Cassidy.
I am not “that girl in the hayride accident” you read about in the newspaper. I’m not “the victim” legislators and lawyers use in their briefings; and I’m not just the person who is notably missing in this courtroom. I cannot be reduced to words or works. My spirit is too big.
When this case is closed and others move on with their lives — I will not. I was 17 years old when my life was suddenly taken. I lived just 6,250 days. Not enough time.
Not enough time to experience my teenage rites of passage: driving friends for the first time to school; being asked to the prom; proudly playing in my last home soccer game; receiving my diploma from high school. Maybe even giving the valedictorian speech I worked so hard to achieve. I didn’t even get to see my 18th birthday.
Seventeen years, 1 month and 11 days isn’t enough time to even take the SAT exam, let alone go to college. Not enough time to reach a dream of attending graduate school, developing a professional career or ever discovering my life’s work. I regret never having a chance to reach my full potential to help others—which I learned early in my life was my passion and the center of my existence.
I will never get married or experience the joys and privileges of being a mother. I won’t ever be called “Mrs.” or “Aunt Cass.” I will never hear the words “I love you Mom.” And while I will always be Colby’s loving big sister, there wasn’t nearly enough time to share our lives together.
But I am not the only person whose life was taken on October 11th, 2014. My friends, only teenagers themselves, lost a piece of their lives. You took away their innocence, their sense of security, trust and hope. Many live with guilt, anger, sadness and an emptiness that can never be filled. My family is incomplete.
My bedroom is vacant. Our house, once filled with constant laughter and joy, has become silent. Gatherings are stifled with grief and our once treasured holidays together, are overshadowed by the empty chair.
My parents, who are experiencing the worst of human suffering, are broken, trying to exist in a world they no longer recognize. While my friends’ parents are sharing their family vacations and recent college visits, mine are digging deep to find the courage to get through each day. Their hearts are no longer whole.
My life on Earth is no longer and the lives of the people I loved most, have been shattered by human recklessness, negligence and greed. Seemingly nothing matters, because unfortunately no amount of money, change in policy or admission of guilt can bring me back. But my hope is that this never happens again to another family, another community, or another young woman, whose promising life was just beginning.
We write our own legacy by the words we choose, the actions we take, and the love we share with each other.
Shining on,
Cass