For Victoria
November 20, 2002 - 5:44 p.m.

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I went over to the Galleria with Nancy for lunch today. As we were eating, my friend Amy walked by, heading toward the Hospital. �Hey, when you get back to your desk, give me a call,� she said as she passed us. �Do you have bad news for me?� I asked, somewhat joking, though something in her tone made me wonder. She hesitated. �Just�call me. Okay?� I agreed and went back to my black beans and cheese.

Amy and I met while training as BARCC volunteers in the summer of 2001. We coincidentally worked for the same Hospital, and commuted to and from training sessions together. We chose different volunteer groups, and lead very different lives, but we manage to meet for lunch every once in a while. Going through an experience like that training bonds people in a way that no distance can touch.

We played phone tag for a while this afternoon, but finally she reached me. I laughed again and said, �You�re leaving, aren�t you?� She laughed back. �No, no I�m not. Why do you say that?�

�It�s just your tone of voice. What�s going on?�

She was quiet again. �I�m sorry to have to tell you this at work, but�Victoria died.�

�How?�

�She took her own life.�

Words disappear at a moment like that. There doesn�t seem to be anything to say.

Victoria trained with us at BARCC. She was one of two women in the group who were older than me. We knew she was in the process of escaping an abusive marriage, but none of us knew the details.

She kept trying to break away, and he kept finding her. This was the only way she could escape him. He may as well have killed her with his own hands.

I hung up the phone and walked to Amy�s desk. News like that inspires a need to hug your friends.

We signed on as volunteers to help women not end up like this. Despite all her effort, Victoria hit a wall. And the wall hit back. Hard.

I had other things to say today, but somehow, right now, none of them seem important.

---------------------------------------------

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