Goodbye Kevin Carillo, everyone misses you already

This weekend has been a sobering one for the neighborhood. A kid I knew, 13 year old Kevin Carillo, was killed in an accident last Saturday afternoon. He lived just down the street from me, on the corner of Post and 500 South. Kevin and his friend , 16 year old Jacob Mascaro, a kid I practically adopted because he hung out at my ex-boyfriend's house so much, were testing out a scooter for Kevin's dad. Neither had helmets on, neither had a license. Jacob drove, with Kevin on back as they headed into traffic on 900 West, ignoring a stop sign. A speeding car hit them, tipped them over, and a van came right after and ran over them after that.

Their friends watched as Kevin died right in front of them and Jacob was dragged about 50 feet underneath the van until it stopped and had to back up over the young man again. Rescue workers tried to resusitate Kevin. The car had run over his head and part of his head had fallen out. They say he blinked a lot, then his legs shook violently as local neighbor girl, Shaata Field, held his head in her hands and watched him slip away. Shaata's younger brother, a small, sensitive eleven year old we call Bear, considered Kevin his best friend. He took it pretty hard and had been crying all day.

Jacob, meanwhile was in pretty bad shape, twisting and turning and yelling how much he hurt. Rescuers stripped him of his clothes and took him immediately to the hospital. Rumors swirled Jacob died on the way. I heard the news about Kevin from my ex-bf. Then a neighbor told me about Jacob. I called my ex back. Both of us were still in shock. He had me pick him up and we went to get answers. Jacob did not die, thankfully, but the police might charge him with involuntary manslaughter. We knew this would be something that poor kid would carry with him for the rest of his life. He and Kevin were two peas in a pod. His neck was also crushed and he may not be able to walk. He's a big, strong kid who often worked on construction projects for my ex and could carry two sheet rocks at a time. This was not good news.

Everyone remembered the two of them traveling around on Jacob's two-seater bike around the neighborhood, visiting with everyone. I remember Kevin would always wave and shout "Hi Sarah" every time I drove by or jump onto the side of my ex's Ford as he was driving home from work and say something funny.

My ex said he wished he'd made Jacob work that day instead. But I don't know if that really would have stopped destiny. I think about my own brother in times like this. It's been five years since he died in a hiking accident up Big Cottonwood Canyon. What if he hadn't gone hiking that day? What if Jacob worked that day? Would Kevin still be alive? I don't know what to think.

I think of Kevin's mom. We went to visit his family that night. I didn't know his family, just him and his little band of friends, but we went to say we were sorry and to give comfort. I held her in my arms and she could not stop crying. She just kept saying "My baby, my baby". I felt so bad and I understood her deep, inconsolable pain. It was once mine. I don't know about destiny or what is meant to happen. I do know that cute little kid's smile will be missed.

More on this story at the Salt Lake Tribune


Sherpa said…
How are you doing?
SJ said…
Went to the funeral today. Went to see Jacob in the hospital today. A bunch of the neighborhood kids were there already to keep him company. He's pretty beat up, but he will walk again. They told me he actually stood up once today. He's still in a lot of pain. He can't feed himself.

I am fine. I mean, I balled at the funeral, but it's more because I feel so bad for the family and because Kevin was so young and it was so unexpected.

Poor Jacob, he keeps blaming himself. He seemed pretty sad.
Sherpa said…
Crying is good. Its a healthy outlet. Glad you're handling it well.
Sherpa said…
Yeah, I feel for Jacob. I don't know him, but that's something he's going to carry for the rest of his life. I hope its not a millstone around his neck.

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