BVOV Magazine 2013 - present

The doctor arrived, detailing a long list of injuries. He ended by saying, “It doesn’t look good. We’re doing all we can.” “I appreciate your knowledge and your taking care of my son,” Tiki said. “I’m praying and expecting a miracle.” A Stand of Faith Nothing could have prepared Tiki for how Kevin looked. The only part of his body she could touch was his right arm and hand. “Kevin,” Tiki said, “it’s not time for you to go. You’re getting out of that bed. You have a purpose. You listen to your mama.” Visitation had to be staged. Both Kevin and Tiki’s dad were in the same ICU. Her dad’s doctors didn’t want him to find out about Kevin’s wreck, concerned that he was too unstable to handle the news. Each visit had to be orchestrated, each visitor forewarned. The family had been told that there was a fatality in the wreck. They’d prayed for the other family, asking God to comfort them in their loss. When a detective arrived to discuss his investigation into the crash, there was new information. The reported fatality had been Kevin. He’d died three times on the way to the hospital. The other news was even more shocking. Kevin had been hit head-on by a drunk driver. “We need to pray,” Tiki said. The family held hands as she prayed, “God, I forgive her for what she’s done to our family. I ask You to bring something good out of this.” “How could you do that to Kevin?” one family member asked. Another cursed her. “There was such a war on the inside of me,” Tiki admits. “My son’s life was hanging in the balance. I didn’t feel like forgiving. I chose to forgive. It surprised me when I said it.” A Different Kind of Miracle Still fasting, Tiki prayed most of the night, standing strong for a miracle. The next morning, she expected a good report. “At 8:57 this morning,” the doctor said, “we pronounced Kevin brain-dead.” You can’t do that!” Tiki insisted. “Do not turn off one machine unless I say so!” The doctor looked stunned and a little scared. Tiki strode to the ICU like a general advancing against an enemy. Reaching Kevin, she told him very sternly that he had to stay and finish his purpose. Having said that, she continued her stand of faith. Seven hours later, still believing for a miracle, the one that happened was unexpected. Tiki leaned down and whispered in Kevin’s ear, “Kev, Mom’s not ready for you to go.” When she heard Kevin’s voice, the words were so loud and clear that she gasped. “Mom, it’s too painful.” Four words. She heard four audible words. “His words were so clear that I thought he’d woken up and spoken to me,” Tiki recalls. “But he hadn’t. He was intubated and in a coma. I heard his spirit man speak to me in an audible voice. “I believe that I was so adamant that God heal him, that He told Kevin something like, ‘Your mom is banging on the gates of heaven. If you don’t let her know you don’t want to go back, I’m going to have to answer her prayer.’ “I believe God let Kevin decide. Kevin was in the presence of Jesus, and I was asking him to leave. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave either. “OK,” Tiki told Kevin. “Mom will be OK.” Life Without Kevin For the first time in six days, Tiki walked out of the hospital. The trip home was the longest journey of her life. She had to learn how to live without her son. On Aug. 6, 2011, more than 3,000 people attended Kevin’s life celebration service. Michael Ketterer, who’d sung an original song written by Garth Brooks on TV’s “America’s Got Talent,” sang; and Dean Sikes from Spirit of America performed the service. Forty-eight people answered an altar call that day and gave their hearts to Jesus. Two of them had been atheists. On Aug. 9, Tiki’s dad was finally released from the hospital. Only then did he learn that his grandson had died. By the end of August, Tiki had returned to Houston. “My mind was in such a fog, I couldn’t read the Bible,” Tiki says. “Listening to praise music and praying in tongues gave me peace. I just kept telling God that I didn’t understand, but I trusted Him.” The driver of the car that caused the wreck, a young woman named Latisha Stephens, was 32 years old. A blood alcohol level of 0.08 percent is considered legally impaired. Hers was 0.235 percent. Following the tragedy, Tiki and her oldest son, Derek, started a nonprofit awareness group called 1N3. The name was based on the statistics that one in three people are impacted by drunk driving. The media showed up at the first 1N3 event, and a reporter asked Tiki, “If you could say anything to the woman who killed your son, what would it be?” Tiki looked at the camera. “Latisha, if you’re watching,” she said, “I want you to know that I forgive you, and I hope you turn your life around.” There was a lot of agreeing to disagree among family members because of the stand of forgiveness Tom and Tiki had taken regarding the woman responsible for Kevin’s death. Some family members refused to talk to Tom and Tiki. Others tolerated them. Breaking the Chains “Tiki was functioning, but she was like a zombie,” Tom explains. “Mike Barber and his family were wonderful to us, but I knew she needed to go home. Mike graciously released us to do that.” Meanwhile, Latisha Stephens had been charged for Kevin’s death and her trial was gearing up. When the family arrived at the courthouse in March, the district attorney asked to meet with them. “I want to offer something to you,” she said. “It’s called restorative justice. We want you to meet with Latisha and her family. You’ll be given the opportunity to discuss how her actions impacted your family.” “Most definitely,” Tiki responded. “When?” “Today.” A couple of hours later, the families met. Kevin’s Aunt Crystal had written 61 long letters to Dear Drunk Driver that she condensed to five pages. It was rough. The overriding message was: I hate you. When it was Tiki’s turn to talk, she said, “I want to tell you, face to face that I forgive you. That doesn’t mean what you did was OK. It will never be OK.” BVOV : 13

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