SCHOLARSHIP AWARD

For the last ten years the independent Insurance Agents of Queens & Kinds Counties has bestowed an annual $1,000.00 Scholarship on a graduating high school student who is a resident of Queens or Kings County and who will be going directly on to college from High School. This grant is to be used solely for college tuition.

Many thanks go to Tom Frey who was the originator of this Award as well as the many committee members who tirelessly worked on it through the years. It has been my personal privilege to serve on this committee from its inception and I was especially pleased to act as its president this year together with Ken Erickson whose footsteps I followed and who worked side by side with me. Special thanks go to Phil Samuels of Amerisc Group for donating the $2,500.00 award for 1999 and for his and Ken Erickson's initiative and commitment to serve as President and Vice- President respectively for the coming year.

This year the award was increased to $2,500.00 and renamed
The Joel S. Pollack Scholarship Award

Joel was unpretentious and full of life; just beginning to realize the boundless potential we all knew he was capable of. Memorial Day Weekend, 1998. Joel felt what we all feel…It's Friday, the end of my work week…long holiday weekend…schools out…summers here… traditionally a time for Joel to revel with his family and friends"out east". Joel chose to celebrate without his car, his killer didn't Joel was tragically struck by an intoxicated driver while hailing a cab and died that night in his sister's arms.

This Association honors Joel S. Pollack by dedicating our annual scholarship award in his memory. This is our heartfelt tribute to our beloved friend and colleague. Joel's soul and memory will remain in our hearts and in God's Hands forever.

The 1999 winner of the Joel S. Pollack Scholarship Award is Shruti Matchhar of Edward R. Murrow High School in Brooklyn.

I could hear muffled sounds. The shuffle of people rushing into the room, unseen hands touching and probing my body, people yelling strict orders to others all the while an insistent beep sounded tirelessly in the background. I tried to fight them off but I had no control over my body. I wanted the phantoms to go away, I wanted them to stop. I attempted to cry out before I slipping into a comatose state.

I awoke three days later to find myself laying in a bed. Tubes flowed into and out of my body. Machines pulsed away in a corner as I slowly inhaled the smell of medicine, cleansers and sickness. I was in a hospital. What was I doing here? I fought the fog in my brain. I squeezed my eyes tight as I tried to remember.

It was a Saturday night…well, Sunday morning to be exact. It was almost 4 in the morning when the fraternity party ended and I piled into my car with three of my friends. The party had been great. We were five years under the drinking age. That had not mattered to anyone that night. I kept saying that I was okay, trying to reassure myself that it was okay to get behind the wheel and make the half hour ride home.

I had zoomed onto the highway way above the speed limit. I recalled laughing hysterically, incoherent and disoriented under the influence.

"Oops, I kinda spilled my beer all over your car seat," Someone giggled apologetically.

"What? Are you serious?" I twisted around in my seat to get a better look at the damage.

I could not remember what happened next and before I could try to complete the puzzle, an army of doctors and nurses surrounded me. They were all searching for my pulse, trying to examine my heartbeat and blood pressure. All I wanted were answers.

I got the answers the next day when the doctor perched on the edge of my bed to "talk". I had been in an accident. A bad accident. When they got me to the hospital, my blood alcohol count had been 0.80 which is the illegal level for an adult. So, you can only imagine what effect it had on my 16-year-old body. My car had swerved off the right side of the highway and hit another car on the side at 85 mph. The damage had been devastating.

I did not know my condition. At the time, I did not care. What about the others? I wanted to know. One of my friends had died after she had been tossed out of the wind-shield like a rag doll. The other two were in critical shape. Neither had regained their consciousness yet. I was lucky doctors said. The airbag had saved me and even in my drunken stupor I had remembered to buckle my seat belt.

I was quiet. I did not even notice the tears rolled over my cheeks and fell silently onto my pillow.

"The other people. In the other car. What happened to them?" There had been three of them in the car: A young couple and their three year old son. They were returning from a trip to their grandparents, tired but happy, the toddler sound asleep in his car seat. The couple was killed but fortunately, the baby survived. However, there's nothing fortunate about the fact that the baby is now an orphan. Nothing fortunate about the fact that he can no longer run to mommy when he has a "boo-boo." Nothing fortunate about the fact that his father will never see him play Little League baseball. There will be no firsts to share, no photo albums filled with loving family pictures, no memory of mom and dad who would have taught him how to read, write, talk, drive and who would have cried at the graduation, the wedding and at the birth of grandchildren. In a split second, I had taken the child's future into my hands and thrown it away. I had single-handedly ruined his life and the lives of my friends.

Family members will cry at their funerals because of my mistake. Every time they think of their loss, they will think of me. The irresponsible girl who got plastered and murdered their loved ones. It is perhaps my worst punishment that I have survived. I live with the guilt every day. I live with knowing that I am to blame because three people have no futures and three others have lost their chances at a happy one. I was left alive, paralyzed from the waist down, alone, to mull over what I had done.

I asked myself if having a few hours of fun was worth sacrificing seven lives and worth creating irreversible damage. I do not even have to give you my answer because I am sure you know what it is.