When death comes too soon

By BARBARA WALSH, Portland Press Herald Writer

Copyright © 2004 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc.

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Family photo Timmy Thompson wraps his arm around sister Haley and his mother, Nancy, during a family vacation last summer in Venezuela. It was on vacation that Timmy spiraled into depression and psychosis. Other family members shown are sister Molly, left, his father, Timothy, sister Emily and brother Russell.

The Series The three-part series on youth suicide in Maine, where the rates of young people under 25 who kill themselves are the highest in New England. Getting Help Where to turn Know the warning signs Stories from Sunday, November 14, 2004 When death comes too soon Town mourns a favorite son - and asks, why? 'Timmy's death will not be in vain' Jeannine Guttman: Honoring life by talking about it Stories from Monday, November 15, 2004 'You learn to live with the pain' Frequently asked questions about youth suicide Stories from Tuesday, November 16, 2004 Maine searches for causes of high teen suicide rate How to contact us If you want to share your thoughts on this topic, send an e-mail to healing@pressherald.com Submit a letter to the editor IN THEIR OWN WORDS How Timmy Thompson's death affected friends, family: MOLLY THOMPSON, 22, Timmy's sister "For the first few weeks, I thought about (Timmy's death) constantly. But then it started to get a lot better and when you do think about it, it's good memories instead of the bad ones. "Timmy was just a huge part of everyone's life. But we have to still live. If you just think, 'Why suicide?' it's just going to get you nowhere. "It's normal to cry and feel sad about it. A lot of it is: What would Timmy want me to do now? Laugh and be happy and take every moment. Do everything I possibly can. "I don't think of Timmy taking his life as suicide. I think of it as mental illness. It comes down to someone's mental health. Suicide was the effect of his depression. "Everyone is always hush, hush about it - mental illness and suicide. Nobody ever talks about it till something like this happens. Everyone brushes it under the rug. "If Timmy's death helps people understand, just getting it out there, that's good. If people are sad or depressed, they need to go talk to someone. Don't be ashamed." JULIA INTEGLIA, 17, Timmy's girlfriend "Timmy wasn't just my boyfriend, he was my best friend and I went to him about everything. I can't go to him now and tell him how sad I am about him dying. "I have other people I can go to. Talking to my friends helps, but a lot of the time they can't really do anything. I've got to work this out myself. "It helps to just keep occupied, I guess. But even when I'm occupied, some days it just hits me really hard. Sometimes it's just a memory or a moment that he should be there for. "I try to think about the future, things I want to do, like travel. I thought I might want to go into psychiatry. I want to figure out mental illness. There's an incredible amount of it. And it's not a bad thing. You're not crazy if you have mental illness." MEAGHAN REILLY, 18, Timmy's friend "I wish Timmy knew how many people loved him, how many people he touched and how many people cared for him. People shouldn't take their life because in the long run it hurts so many people. "I hope this makes people realize how serious depression is and how much it can hurt you." CONOR CASEY, 18, Timmy's friend "I knew Timmy forever. We grew up playing sports together. We went on the same bus to school. He was just the happiest kid I ever knew. I was lucky to be friends with him. "I wish Timmy would have said something to us. You feel helpless and think what could you have done? He'd always make you feel better when you were down. He was always there for us. "I feel lost more and confused now. It's hard to put everything together. Timmy was just here with us and now he's gone. "If anyone asks me why he died, I'll say depression. It wasn't Timmy Thompson, it was depression." REX MALONE, 18, Timmy's friend "Timmy's death affected everyone. No one will ever be the same again. A lot of people are taking it different ways. Some are trying to just numb it. Some are going to drugs and alcohol. Some people are trying to make it a positive and remember the spirit of Timmy Thompson and that's what I'm trying to do. "I'm trying to live my life in his memory and trying to accomplish the things that he couldn't accomplish. If he had been able to hang in there, he would have done some amazing things." To top of story

CAPE ELIZABETH — Timmy Thompson tooled around town in his pickup like a teenage mayor. Half-hanging out of his window with a perpetual grin, he waved at nearly everyone he saw, shouting at friends: "What's up, bubby?"

It seemed he knew everyone and everyone knew him. Friends envied his charm and invincible spirit. He appeared to be one of the happiest kids around.

So when word spread on a July evening last summer that Timmy Thompson was dead, the news ripped through town like a tornado.

Phones rang relentlessly at homes, on the beach, in restaurants and in cars. The death of this 18-year-old drew anguished cries of disbelief. How could something happen to one of the most popular kids in town, a boy with a charmed life and promising future?

Then word filtered out that Timmy had shot himself. The revelation stunned his friends. It left them silent, scared and confused.

If Timmy Thompson could die by suicide, then how could any of them feel safe? How could any of them go on with their own lives, their own dreams?

In the Thompson home, Timmy's parents and four siblings reeled from their own pain. Timmy was the middle child, the goofy kid who entertained the family with his jokes and boundless energy.

With five children, two dogs and a never-ending parade of neighborhood kids, the Thompson home bustled with activity and laughter. Their lives were ordinary and filled with the constant motion of school activities, athletic games, birthday celebrations and family vacations.

Then, on a Saturday afternoon, Timmy was suddenly gone and everything changed.

Nancy and Tim Thompson knew they needed help not only for themselves and their four surviving children but for the community's grieving families. Forty-eight hours after the ambulance took their son's body away, the Thompsons arranged for grief counselors to come to town.

Some 300 kids, teenagers, parents and teachers showed up at the local community center to talk about their sadness and to learn why a boy with so much promise was dead.

Tim Thompson stood at the front of the room and faced the crowd.

"I am not ashamed of my son," Thompson said. "He died of an illness. He was suffering from depression."

The gathering marked the beginning of one family's determination to heal themselves and their town. The Thompsons' willingness to speak about their son and his sickness started a community-wide conversation about suicide and mental illness, topics that are often taboo and too painful to talk about.

"The strength of this family has been amazing," says Frank Strout, whose son graduated with Timmy from Cape Elizabeth High School and was a close friend. "It was an incredible thing for this community, in the way they reached out."

In Maine, where suicide is the second leading cause of death for teens, the Thompsons are an exception. Most parents are understandably lost in their own grief and anguish.

"What this family did is the definition of courage," says Robert Gebbia, who directs the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. "There is still so much stigma and shame about suicide.

"But as more families speak out, the more attitudes will change."

For the Thompsons, talking about their son's sickness and suicide is about healing. By comforting others, they comfort themselves.

"This is what Timmy would have wanted, for us to help others," Tim Thompson says. "I refuse to be bitter and angry about my son's death."

"We will do whatever we can to help other families and if it takes telling our story over and over, we'll do that," Nancy Thompson says. "Every day, Tim and I tell each other, 'Something good has to come out of this. It has to.' "

The Thompsons' willingness to talk openly about their son's illness and death has given the community a chance to embrace the family and ease their pain.

The Thompsons have received hugs at soccer games, the local grocery and drug store. They've accepted condolences from strangers at town hall and on the street. Their mailbox overflowed with hundreds of letters and cards.

"The outpouring of love, of letters from people in this town, has been unbelievable," Nancy Thompson says. "And every hug, every word takes away some of the pain."

Staff Writer Barbara Walsh can be contacted at 791-6382 or at:

bwalsh@pressherald.com