The goal of this letter is to tell you about the innocent young man you carelessly mowed down and killed. The suffering you caused by this neglectful and cruel act is immeasurable. His family is devastated and grief stricken--his friends are also shattered. You took our son, our first born, in a violent manner and then went on your way. The police failed to test you and took your word for what happened. Did you even consider calling the hospital to see how he was? Did you care? He was kind, generous, funny, smart...so many outstanding qualities represent the man he was.

Connor O'Gorman was the nicest, most gentle man I have ever known. Everybody loved him. There was not a mean bone in his body. He loved kids and they loved him. He loved his family and friends and completely enjoyed life. HE was the person we all want to be, but since that's not possible, just wanted the honor of being his friend.

Connor loved all sports. He played baseball--starting at five years old. He was not a natural athlete but worked so hard at succeeding. When he was young, he was a star, but that faded as he grew older. He stilll practiced and practiced--any time he could.

Connor was a coach's dream because he would do whatever the coach asked, without complaining. He was on the Princeton baseball team for four years but rarely got a chance to play. However, his senior year, he shared the 'Most Valuable Player' trophy with his friend who played in every game. That's the kind of person he was--valuable as a role model and helper--even though his time on the field was short.

Connor was smart and made good grades. When in high school, he found a solution to a logic problem that had never been done that way before. His teacher wanted to publish Connor's method, but it was lost over the years. He worked hard at his job at Morgan Stanley, a job he enjoyed and excelled at. He often would leave our home in Atlanta on Sunday, fly to New York, and go to work at midnight--just to be better prepared Monday morning.

Connor loved his family--parents, two sisters, and a brother. He came home often and brought the biggest smile when he walked in the door. His sister, Katie, was his best friend in New York, and they spent much time together. No problem was too great when they helped each other. Katie stayed home for three months, after Connor's death and then struggled to return to her life and job in New York. She moved apartments to try to escape the memories and heartbreak, but some things are impossible to repair. Connor and Mikey, his brother, were also close. Connor would do anything for Mikey. Last year he took him to Iceland so Mikey could join his friends for a soccer tournament. Mikey is teaching school in Taipei this year--his way to deal with his loss. Kerry, Connor's youngest sister, is from the Philippines and depended on Connor for advice, help with school work, and general friendship and understanding. She should be a senior in college this year, but she left school after Connor's death. She is now trying to finish school in Atlanta but has lost at least a year. These siblings loved and idolized Connor, and he felt the same toward them. He was the big brother all kids wish they had. He was ALWAYS there for them, and we were so happy and relieved that he would be around when we are gone--no worries because our kids would always have Connor--that is until you took him away.

As for Connor's father and me. We have loved him for thirty short years. Life without Connor is no life at all. We have three children now who are dearly loved--but the loss of one--any one--takes the joy and leaves a hole, impossible to fill. His father coached him in every sport and advised him in many major decisions. We lived in seven different countries as the kids grew up, which made for a very close family. I too had the pleasure of watching him grow--watching him play--seeing the results of his hard work--talking to his teachers and just being in his presence. As a grown-up he never missed a holiday at home. He was our much beloved son--a shining light--extinguished by a taxi driver--who took his eyes off the road--and in one moment destroyed a valuable and loving future.

Then there were Connor's friends. He had so many and loved them so much. The loved him too--he was generous and kind--and always ready for an adventure. If they asked--he gave--or he went--or he listened. So many came to his memorial service--from all over the United States --Singapore--Bangkok--from his early years to the present. Many people spoke at his service--his three siblings, two uncles, his four best friends, his first baseball coach, his boss from Morgan Stanley, and the ministers. Katie's good friend sang "You Lift Me Up", and that describes him well. The church was packed. His cousins were there--the peers and their children. Also, many aunts and uncles, and his 97 year old grandmother was there in spirit. We received many cards and emails--one from a driver we had in the hPilippines twenty years ago--another from the son of our helper in South Africa, the first time, 30+ years ago. How did these people find out? Only a gentle giant could touch so many people. How does it feel to know you took away his chance to marry--to have children and to be the wonderful father he was meant to be?--to live a long healthy life that he worked for and truly deserved?

The weekend before Connor died, the three kids and I visited Kerry in college in Florida. We went to a pre-season Braves baseball game, and the kids spent a night out together - just the four of them. Connor left early Monday morning, and I hugged him, told him I loved him and to be carefull. You see, he was so innocently and innately good that I always feared he would trust the wrong people or be unaware of dangerous people close by. Little did I know, this would occur the next weekend, and I would not see him again. That Monday night he, his brother, and friends drafted their fantasy baseball teams. I sent Connor a teasing message about one of the players he had chosen. He wrote me back--"Pansy, its just business". Somehow I imagine you saying--"Its just business--my job is to drive a taxi", with little remorse. They say you broke a law "failure to yield to a pedestrian" since you and Connor were going in the same direction, and had the same lights to obey. You broke the law when you failed to yield. However, you broke much more than that--you broke many hearts and, more importantly, you broke Connor O'Gorman--something you should NEVER FORGET.

Connor's dad and I often wonder why you are still driving a taxi, and why a city would allow others to be at risk when one who has killed, without punishment, is still on the road. We think of Connor when we get up--when we go to bed--and most of the time in between. We all cry--OFTEN. Our grief rules our lives. What do you think about? Do you ever give Connor a thought?

To fully explain Connor to the man who killed him is impossible for me. You could not understand his goodness. But in closing, you should know that he would never want this praise. He was humble and never sought attention or recognition. He just wanted to be happy--to laugh his beautiful laugh and spend his time with the people he loved.

You took Connor from us. I hope you understand the horror of what you did. You need to live every day--every hour--every minute with that knowledge--as we do. His family will never be the same. We will never forget your name, and the fact that one careless, selfish moment in your life took our son's and brother's life and destroyed ours.

Patricia, Patrick, Katie, Michael, and Kerry O'Gorman

Connor, we miss you and think of you every day! Our little girl, Nina Caroline, arrived ten days ago and in the Jewish tradition we gave her a middle name beginning with the letter "C" in your honor. We know she'll be blessed with so much of your spirit--she was practically born smiling!--and while you can't be here to hold her in your arms, we know she's got her very own special angel. Thanks for looking out for her the way you always did for all of us. We love you! Rebecca and Haas.