RIP, Nora Miller

It was one of those events that build over time. Little bits of information cross the consciousness. The bits turn to larger pieces and eventually the entirety of the situation just proceeds to overwhelm everything. That’s what happened to me between yesterday morning and this afternoon.

This one started yesterday sometime in the late morning when I read an entry on the  Middletown Eye that a Wesleyan student had been airlifted to Hartford Hospital after being found on a field. The report said the student had burns over 100 percent of her body and that they were self-inflicted. At that point I hoped that she died of her injuries, as awful as that sounds. No one could survive 100 percent involvement. And the pain would be unbearable.

I also flashed back to a day many years ago when my parents tried to persuade me to apply to Radcliffe. I burst in to tears and begged them not to make me go to the school with the highest suicide rate in the country. They said they didn’t realize that was the case and relented quickly when they checked it out. I could only try to imagine what kind pain that poor young woman was suffering to do what she did.

Today I read an update on the Eye, which provided a link to the statement issued by Wesleyan’s president. I clicked on the link and saw the name Nora Miller. She was a member of the WesU class of 2012. I knew a Nora Miller who had been a member of the track team that my sister-in-law Deb Petruzzello coached several years ago, but that girl went to Stanford. Then I saw the names of her parents. Her mother’s name was given as Patricia. I knew Nora’s mother as Patty Miller. I had met her when Deb and I helped at a summer track event. In fact I still wear the neon green shirt she gave us for volunteering.

It was then I realized the Nora Miller who had committed suicide was the same girl I had known when she was a Middletown High track star. I remember watching Nora grow from a gangling kid to a beautiful young woman who could nail pretty much anything on the track. I started to shake, started to cry. Then I called Deb to see how she was doing. She was upset and still trying to sort out what happened.

There was so much sad irony that Nora immolated herself on the track.

Regardless of what happened, I hope she is at peace now.

Nora, you will be missed.