Debbie Marie Ashton

1986-2006.

On Tuesday 5 December 2006, Debbie and her partner were driving up a hill on a narrow back road into Richmond, Nelson, a road that she had travelled nearly everyday of her life, sometimes four times a day.

A 26 year old male, drunk, disqualified driver, drove his friends car up the other side of the hill travelling in excess of 100km/h (the recommended speed limit was 45,) crossed the centre line, became airborne and crashed head on with her car. Debbie had less than a second to let out a terrified scream. There was no way she could have avoided that oncoming missile of destruction.

Thankfully her killer was charged with manslaughter, was sentenced to five and a half years prison and lost his license for three years. Sadly, he will not have to serve this amount of time in prison and even worse when he gets out, will only have a few months, if any, left from being disqualified from driving. Ask yourself,  what will stop him from drinking and driving again with or without a license? Nothing!!

His long history of convictions shows that he has no regard for the law. Within two months of arriving in Nelson he was charged with reckless driving. It took over two months for him to appear before the court for sentencing. The Judge disqualified him from driving for 18 months and marked his file “last chance”.

Twenty eight days later, while drunk, he drove at excessive speed, crossed the centre line, and crashed head on with Debbie’s car killing her and shattering the lives of all who loved her.

Her mother's story

Debbie, the third of my four children, together with her partner were living on our property, they had all but finished converting a box truck into a mobile home. They had dreams of buying a bit of land on which to settle with their two dogs. We saw and talked to them everyday.

Just after midnight on Wednesday 6 December 2006 we were woken by a car coming up our drive, then shortly after a knock at the door. There stood a policeman, a parents worst nightmare.

From that moment my life and those who loved Debbie has changed forever.

The policeman took us to the hospital. I vaguely remember walking into the Accident and Emergency ward and being taken to see Debz before she went into surgery. Never in my life did I dream of seeing one of my children lying on a stretcher. But there before me was my child, now a tall, slim beautiful young woman, covered by a sheet, lying on top of her cut off clothing, her neck in a brace, tubes, and monitor wires everywhere, four, maybe five medical staff working on her.

Her father and I were able to spend a few pecious last minutes with her, telling her we loved her, to hang in there. I stroked her blood matted hair, breathed in her smell (recalling the same loving response at her birth) and kissed her face. We walked with her, in urgency and bewilderment down the long corrider to the operating theatre. Then we waited, with her two brothers, for what seemed like hours until the surgeon came and told us he was so sorry. He did all he could, but Debbie's injuries were too severe, he was not able to save her.

Debbie died at 2:25am, four hours after the crash.

Less than an hour later I gazed down at the lifeless body of my daughter now lying on a cold stainless steel operating table. I had to sign a paper declaring that Debbie was Debbie, the hardest things I have ever had to sign in my life.

I just wanted to stay with her, but needed to go home and ring her sister living in Christchurch. There is no kind way to tell your other daughter that her much loved younger sister had been killed. To hear the wailing on the end of the phone with so many miles between us was yet another heartbreak. As was, less than an hour later waking up my elderly parents and having to tell them that their granddaughter had been killed.

Her partner has recovered from his leg injuries, sadly the same cannot be said for the deep emotional and mental scars  that were inflicted on him. He will carry them for the rest of his life.

After Debbie's death we received so many cards and letters.

Her employers wrote: “Debbie made such an impression on us all in her own quite way, so much in that we did not realise until she wasn’t there how deeply she touched our lives and hearts. We saw this bright, determined and gutsy young woman with huge potential and plans for the future, who continued working when most people would have given up. Martin and I related to the strong work ethic.... we loved the quirky characteristics that made Debbie special .... she was a girl with a kind heart, of great depth and talent unrealised.”

Debbie's college tutor: “She was a creative, warm and generous girl with a big heart and a great sense of “justice”.  ...... she certainly was a determined young woman! I have enclosed a copy of a letter she sent to me months after she left school, it is very special, and I think shows a ‘snapshot’ of the fair, independent and appreciative person she always was.”

Her friend: “I could always trust and rely on her, ...... she was such a caring and generous person, .... she had such an awesome sense of humour.”

These messages have given me so much comfort and remind me of the person my daughter was. Her life has been tragcally taken, but nothing can take away the life that she lived, the amazing person that she was, nor the precious memories that we are left with.

Through Debbie’s life and death she has taught me so much and I am so thankful for her maturity and wisdom that was way beyond that of a twenty year old.

     Judy Ashton
     Hope, Nelson