When I woke up the morning of my birthday, I had no idea how the day would unravel. What was supposed to be a special day resulted in tragedy. I never thought that on the day we celebrate life, I would see death. Some of you have already heard of the passing of our fellow Coug, Tanya Guseva, this summer. This column is a recounting of Tanya’s story to send a message. Countless lives have been impacted and changed forever. Let her story resonate in your heart. This is not a pleasant story, nor is it meant to be.

THE ACCIDENT May 20, 2009 was a beautiful sunny day with warm weather – a perfect day for the dunes. As class concluded, I grabbed my bathing suit, beer and friends. Packing into a truck, boat in tow, we headed to the dunes.

Upon arrival, it was apparent the party had started. I observed an almost empty bottle of vodka, cases of beer and three of my friends on the beach. However, I had an ominous feeling. All three were having fun and were carefree. Their lackadaisical attitudes concerned me greatly as the drive back to Pullman is 45 minutes, with windy roads and cliffs. It is an intimidating drive sober, let alone intoxicated.

After an hour, they left, trying to get home before the dam closed. I get angry and frustrated when I think about what led up to the accident. My first words to them had been, “Who’s driving?” They did not seem too worried about it. We tried offering alternatives to driving, but in a state of “alcohol myopia,” they were set on leaving.

I will never forget the moment I heard, “Your friends just got in an accident!” The grim sound of those words enticed me to run to the car. After five minutes of driving, we came upon the accident. Debris was strewn across a 50-yard stretch, the vehicle was destroyed, and all three of them were ejected.

Looking around, I was unable to comprehend what happened. There were no other damaged cars or objects they could have collided with. It was on the only straight stretch of road for miles, well before the dangerous part of the drive.

Shocked and lacking a cell phone, instincts took over. Adrenaline pumping, the first person I reached was Allison. She was covered in blood as if someone had poured a gallon of red paint. She was disoriented and in pain. I tried to console her, lying that help was coming.

James was next. He was unconscious and gasping for air. I thought about turning him over, but remembered that without knowing the extent of his injury, he should be untouched.

Then, I ran to Tanya. She had landed on the cement road and was also unconscious. I noticed blood dripping from both of her ears due to severe head trauma.

Still in disbelief that I would witness death, I watched the paramedics cover Tanya with a blanket after failed attempts to resuscitate her. It was like a scene from a movie. I collapsed by her side, crying, telling her how sorry I was. In a surreal way, she seemed peaceful. One moment we were laughing – the next moment she was dead.

As a plethora of emotions coursed through me, James was airlifted and Allison was taken in an ambulance to the hospital. Heartbroken, alone and unable to stand, I was escorted to an ambulance and driven away. In silence, I replayed the day over and over again.

TANYA: WHO WE LOST The world lost an amazing person that day. Having graduated two weeks earlier, she planned on teaching English abroad. It is tragic to think about what she will never experience. The mother and wife she will never be. The family she will never have. The life she can no longer live.

This story is to honor Tanya by serving as a warning to others, so her tragic death is not in vain. Her sorority, Alpha Omicron Pi, has established the Tanya Memorial Scholarship and are selling anti-drinking-and-driving T-shirts. Let us take a few lessons from this tragedy, so that we too can honor her memory.

n Think ahead. Have a plan before you start drinking and follow it. Waiting until you are drunk to make important decisions can prove deadly.

n Speak up. Do not let your friends drive drunk. Help stop them in any way possible. It is better to have an angry friend than a dead one.

n Be considerate. Drinking and driving is selfish. The streets are full of fragile things: people on bikes, babies in strollers, pedestrians and dogs. Regardless of your “driving abilities,” the risks you impose on innocent lives are inexcusable.

The consequences of drinking and driving can easily happen to any of us. Collectively, we must make a conscious effort to prevent drunken driving. The day Tanya died was an ordinary day like any other, which is the scariest part. Driving is a privilege, not a right. How many friends do we need to bury to wake up?

See the extended story here.