Those touched by death can’t forget

Death echoes, and it is tempting to cover our ears until it all goes away. But that does not work. It does not work when the death is expected, and it does not work when the death is a surprise.

We must listen. We must remember. We have no choice.

Witness this: a snow cone shop in Green Valley where a pretty girl is standing at an empty counter Tuesday afternoon, trying to explain.

"It's just a way to grieve," says the girl, Keeana Gondek, 17, a senior at Green Valley High School. "Knowing that you're doing something, even though he's gone. It's like he's still alive, somehow. We're keeping him in our memory."

Gondek works part-time at Sno-Ball Mania, a shop that sells what most folks call snow cones, but that the owner insists are called sno-balls where he comes from.

The owners, Erik and Sharon Skarda, are new to the area, moving here from Baltimore last year.

They opened their shop last spring a few blocks away from Green Valley High School, the realization of a yearslong dream.

Over the summer, a 17-year-old boy, William Mootz, a Green Valley senior, died when he was swept away in a flash flood not too far from the shop.

That's awful, everyone thought. How tragic.

And then Gondek came to work, and Mootz's death became personal for the Skardas.

"When you realize you have a connection, it sort of changes things," Erik Skarda said.

Gondek had known Mootz since they were sixth-graders. They had dated off and on but had a falling out in their sophomore year and hadn't spoken since.

Gondek feels terrible about that.

She feels terrible that they had argued the last time they talked.

She feels terrible that she cannot go back and apologize for being wrong. If only she had known.

She is going to carry that forever, she said. There's nothing she can do.

Rituals help. The candlelight vigil at the school in the days after Mootz's body was found. The bracelet the kids at school are wearing now, his name embossed on it.

And the snow cone shop on Tuesday, where the Skardas were trying to do the right thing. They pledged half their proceeds for the day to the William Mootz Foundation, which benefits the family.

They don't know the family, they said. They arranged it through the high school. They picked this week because they had heard Halloween was his favorite holiday.

Few customers were in early in the day, but business began to pick up late in the afternoon, once school had been out for a while.

Erik Skarda said they weren't trying to raise tons of money or anything. It was a gesture, really.

It was a way to help people say goodbye.

Nancy Follis stopped by. She's trying to do some good, too.

She moved here from Albuquerque, N.M., about a decade ago, she said. There, there's a huge public awareness campaign about flash floods.

She had been complaining, she said, that there wasn't enough of a campaign here. Kids need to know how dangerous those flood channels can be.

When Mootz died, everything changed for her. Follis' daughter, 16, went to school with him.

Follis took his death personally. She immediately did something about it. She started a new group, Stay Away, Don't Play, which she is hoping to turn into a nonprofit that educates kids about the danger of moving water.

Maybe she will get this campaign into the schools. Maybe it will make a difference. Maybe kids will learn something from Mootz's death.

Maybe it'll echo for a long time to come.

Contact reporter Richard Lake at rlake@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0307.