Teen killed in crash was 'mommy' to her friends
Oct. 19, 2006
By JOSEPH M. DELEON News-Post Staff
jdeleon@fredericknewspost.com
FREDERICK — Two energetic dogs greet guests at Diana Shrout's door, tails wagging. Their cold noses press against visitors' legs and hands as the dogs sort through a mix of new and familiar smells.
Hazie, a 2-year-old Rottweiler pit bull mix, settled in to her favorite spot Wednesday — a wadded-up quilt on the sofa. Chief resumed his post at the door, ears cocked. His eyes — one ice-blue, the other a deep purple — scanned the driveway through the living room window.
The 5-year-old Siberian husky still expects Kelsie Esworthy to come home.
Kelsie died Sunday from injuries she suffered Oct. 11 after her truck crashed through a guardrail and sank in a lake at Gambrill State Park. The Frederick County Sheriff's Office is still investigating what caused the crash.
The perfume of four bouquets of flowers hung in the air in Ms. Shrout's home Wednesday. More than a dozen sympathy cards lined an entertainment center, an end table and a shelf in the living room.
Family and friends have gathered every night at Ms. Shrout's house for the past three days to share memories of her 18-year-old daughter.
“Sometimes she would come and lay in my bed at night and we'd just talk,” Ms. Shrout said Wednesday while sitting in the dining room. “Or we would sit on the couch and watch movies on the Lifetime network.”
She recalled how Kelsie was a natural leader who put other's needs above her own.
“She took care of everyone, no matter what,” she said . “It didn't matter what time it was, Kelsie would go and help a friend, give them a ride or collect money, if that's what it took.”
Tuesday night, several of Kelsie's closest friends glued their favorite pictures of her to six poster boards, Ms. Shrout said. Photos, some cut into ovals, were accented with words, such as “love” or “best friends,” cut from ink-jet printed paper.
In some, Kelsie is making a silly face or sticking out her tongue. In others, she's applying globs of makeup to friends faces as they sleep.
“That was her thing,” Ms. Shrout said while looking at a photo of a sleepy-eyed boy smeared with lipstick and eyeshadow, Kelsie hovering nearby with a wide, openmouthed grin.
“It could be makeup or writing, but she would always get their face,” she said. So many of Kelsie's friends came, there was no room to sit; they had to crouch on the floor, Ms. Shrout said. Some asked to visit Kelsie's basement bedroom, where they sat quietly, absorbing her essence.
Rumpled sheets lied knotted on her bed, shoes littering the floor. An artificial ficus tree sparkled with shiny Mardi Gras beads. Nintendo Game Cube controllers snaked across the TV set.
Laura Rowley, 18, formed an instant bond with Kelsie in first grade, whom she called “mommy” because she usually watched out for everyone in the group. During a falling-out with a mutual friend at a gathering at the beach, Kelsie took her aside, she said.
“Kelsie rubbed my back and told me everything was going to be OK — but not in a way that was fake, she always told the truth,” Ms. Rowley said Wednesday. “She never tried to make anything sound better than it was; she was very honest. She could just give it to you straight up and tell you like it is — that's why people liked her.”
Her favorite memory was going to the Bethany Beach boardwalk in Delaware every summer — Kelsie loved to ride rollercoasters.
They would get on rides from 10 a.m. until the park closed at dusk, then do it all over again the next day. She recalled Kelsie constantly smiled.
“She had a big heart and gave that heart to everyone she knew,” Ms. Rowley said. “You couldn't look at her and not smile. Even when she wasn't in a good mood, she always helped you laugh.”
Daniel Wivell-Wagner, 18, recalled Kelsie loved to wear purple, blue and green shirts.
“Those colors made her light sapphire eyes just light up and look so beautiful,” she said Wednesday. “It seemed like she had every color in her eyes.”
Kelsie would make a fool out of herself just to put a smile on friends' faces, she said.
“Kelsie was famous for doing the Elvis lip,” she said. “She was well-known for making her lip curl.”
During sleepovers, Kelsie would mix Mountain Dew, Surge, sugar, salt and pepper to keep guests awake, Ms. Wivell-Wagner said. One drink was supposed to do the trick, but Ms. Wivell-Wagner was usually the first to fall asleep.
“Then, Kelsie would stuff pudding in my pants while I was asleep,” she said. “She was just so crazy and always had an idea to do something fun.”
The girls used to turn off the lights in the basement to play hide and seek — they would run around, scream and bump into each other.
Many of Kelsie's friends came to rely on her for support.
“Now they come to me and want me to be strong for them — I can't,” Ms. Shrout said. “I tell them to cry, and I cry with them.”