Last night the Freehold Nightly News broad casted my landmark segment on how mothers cope with a child's suicide. For any of you that missed it, below is a transcript.
Wash stands in front of an average looking building, holding a microphone.
Wash: Suicide-- Webster's dictionary defines it as "the intentional taking of one's own life", but as these grieving mother's will tell you, it has another definition, a more-- chilling definition.
Wash is now in a support group for women who have lost a child to suicide.
Wash: How would you define "suicide"?
Mother: Intentionally killing yourself.
Wash: Oh... do you have any other definitions? Perhaps one that isn't "intentionally killing yourself"?
Mother: No...
Wash: I guess it only has one definition.
Montage of women sitting in a circle, some crying, discussing how their children's suicides have affected their lives and how they are coping.
Wash (Voice Over): It's a parent's worst nightmare-- burying their own child. These women all share a common bond-- their children have committed suicide. Going on day by day is the hardest aspect of their life, but they gain strength through each other to cope with their grief. Cherri Barnsworth tells us her story.
Cherri sits among the other women and cries as she tells her story.
Cherri: --and then I walked into his room
She pauses to cry.
Cherri (continued): --and there he was --hanging from the ceiling fan.
She weeps.
Wash: Really? That must have been an extremely sturdy fan to hold that kind of weight. I have a Hampton Bay ceiling fan and I don't think that thing would be able to hold my weight.

Wash stands in a hallway of the building with another grieving mother.
Mother: I never suspected that my son was unhappy, I didn't see any of the warning signs. I think that's why I was so devastated by it. For months I wasn't able to get out of bed and for a long time I considered killing myself. As a mother I just couldn't imagine going on in life without my child.
Wash: How old was your son when he killed himself?
Mother: 20
Wash: If it's any consolation, I've only known you for about 5 minutes and I already kind of want to kill myself.

Wash interviews another grieving mother.
Wash: What happened to you after your daughter committed suicide.
Mother: I completely lost the will to live --I stopped taking care of myself, I lost all contact with my friends and the outside world, and I stopped eating which resulted in my losing about 70 pounds.
Wash: WOW! 70 pounds? I've been on that South Beach Diet forever and haven't lost anything. Maybe one of my sons should kill them self, eh?
Wash laughs while the mother cries.

Wash stands with another woman and interviews her.
Wash: If you had a time machine would you go back in time and stop your son from killing himself?
Woman: Absolutely. I would tell him that he has so much to live for and even though he feels like he's reached a dead end and that there is no where to go, that I will always love and support him. I would also tell him about the pain that his suicide put our family through.
Wash (to the camera): But time machines haven't been invented, so until they are they are this woman's son must remain in the cold, cold ground.
Wash (to the woman): Do you blame scientists who haven't invented time machines for your son's suicide.
Woman: No...
Wash: I do.

Wash sits with the grieving mothers in a circle at the support group.
Wash: How does it make you feel to know that your children are writhing in hell for taking their own lives?
All of the women in the circle looked shocked and some begin to cry.
Wash is back in the parking lot in front of the building.
Wash: So there you have it folks, grieving mothers who have found a way to go on after their children rejected God's most precious gift-- life. Their bravery and courage is remarkable. For Freehold Nightly News, I'm Wash O'Hanley.
A security guard emerges from the building and runs at Wash.
Security guard: I thought I told you to get off the premises!
Wash (running, to the crew): Get in the van!
Wash: Suicide-- Webster's dictionary defines it as "the intentional taking of one's own life", but as these grieving mother's will tell you, it has another definition, a more-- chilling definition.
Wash is now in a support group for women who have lost a child to suicide.
Wash: How would you define "suicide"?
Mother: Intentionally killing yourself.
Wash: Oh... do you have any other definitions? Perhaps one that isn't "intentionally killing yourself"?
Mother: No...
Wash: I guess it only has one definition.
Montage of women sitting in a circle, some crying, discussing how their children's suicides have affected their lives and how they are coping.
Wash (Voice Over): It's a parent's worst nightmare-- burying their own child. These women all share a common bond-- their children have committed suicide. Going on day by day is the hardest aspect of their life, but they gain strength through each other to cope with their grief. Cherri Barnsworth tells us her story.
Cherri sits among the other women and cries as she tells her story.
Cherri: --and then I walked into his room
She pauses to cry.
Cherri (continued): --and there he was --hanging from the ceiling fan.
She weeps.
Wash: Really? That must have been an extremely sturdy fan to hold that kind of weight. I have a Hampton Bay ceiling fan and I don't think that thing would be able to hold my weight.

Wash stands in a hallway of the building with another grieving mother.
Mother: I never suspected that my son was unhappy, I didn't see any of the warning signs. I think that's why I was so devastated by it. For months I wasn't able to get out of bed and for a long time I considered killing myself. As a mother I just couldn't imagine going on in life without my child.
Wash: How old was your son when he killed himself?
Mother: 20
Wash: If it's any consolation, I've only known you for about 5 minutes and I already kind of want to kill myself.

Wash interviews another grieving mother.
Wash: What happened to you after your daughter committed suicide.
Mother: I completely lost the will to live --I stopped taking care of myself, I lost all contact with my friends and the outside world, and I stopped eating which resulted in my losing about 70 pounds.
Wash: WOW! 70 pounds? I've been on that South Beach Diet forever and haven't lost anything. Maybe one of my sons should kill them self, eh?
Wash laughs while the mother cries.

Wash stands with another woman and interviews her.
Wash: If you had a time machine would you go back in time and stop your son from killing himself?
Woman: Absolutely. I would tell him that he has so much to live for and even though he feels like he's reached a dead end and that there is no where to go, that I will always love and support him. I would also tell him about the pain that his suicide put our family through.
Wash (to the camera): But time machines haven't been invented, so until they are they are this woman's son must remain in the cold, cold ground.
Wash (to the woman): Do you blame scientists who haven't invented time machines for your son's suicide.
Woman: No...
Wash: I do.
Wash sits with the grieving mothers in a circle at the support group.
Wash: How does it make you feel to know that your children are writhing in hell for taking their own lives?
All of the women in the circle looked shocked and some begin to cry.
Wash is back in the parking lot in front of the building.
Wash: So there you have it folks, grieving mothers who have found a way to go on after their children rejected God's most precious gift-- life. Their bravery and courage is remarkable. For Freehold Nightly News, I'm Wash O'Hanley.
A security guard emerges from the building and runs at Wash.
Security guard: I thought I told you to get off the premises!
Wash (running, to the crew): Get in the van!
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