Russ on his 1500-mile East Coast Wheelchair Push, 1991
Today is April 27, 2026.
As I opened my journal this morning, the first words that came flowing out on paper were, “It was 33 years ago today that I held Russ for the last time.”
Boy, I didn’t expect to write that, but it’s true. I’m pretty sure my husband and I made love that evening, talked for a while afterwards, kissed each other, and went to sleep.
Early the following morning, I could hear him showering and rumbling around the house, but I was largely sleeping. Before he left for what was to be a four-day deep-sea fishing excursion on our 33-foot Egg Harbor motor yacht, he knelt beside our bed with his perfect smile and his bright green eyes and said, “I love you and the boys, and I’ll miss you.”
My last words in my groggy state?
“I love you, too. Make sure you put the garage door down.”
He did.
But he never returned… ever… in any form. Just a few hours later, he and his father were killed in Oregon Inlet off North Carolina’s Outer Banks when our boat encountered very rough seas and broke apart. Wreckage was scattered for miles on the beach, and my father-in-law’s body washed ashore. A coordinated search and rescue effort among the US Coast Guard, US Navy, and the Dare County Sheriff’s Department ended with no body.
My husband was swallowed by the great Atlantic and entered into the more immediate presence of God, and I was left as a young widow with an 8-year-old-son and a 3-year-old son.
How we made it through that year when all assets were frozen is another blog post… because it really was a miracle.
But as I sit here 33 years later, I am thinking more about what I loved so much about Russ, a guy I met in college and who was the nicest guy I ever met (still true to this day).
Here’s a fraction of the things I loved about him:
- His Christian faith. He never lost his faith in God and that was his anchor in life and the bedrock of our marriage.
- His smile that could light up a room.
- His gentleness. He was a semi-pro body builder before losing his right leg in a head-on collision, but he was a gentle giant.
- His devotion to his health and fitness. The man taught me alot.
- His work ethic. Russ worked from the time he was 12, beginning his work history as a dishwasher in a Waffle House in Calhoun, GA.
- His belief in mind over body. He taught me how to mentally rise above alot, and I credit my lack of morning sickness and my fast and natural childbirths to his tutelage (plus, it helped that he was by my side both times, cheering me on as I pushed our boys into this world).
- His corny nicknames for people he both liked and didn’t like. Some of those names were Janet Planet, Handsome Harris, and Anus. Clearly, he wasn’t fond of that last person, but until now, those names remained between us.
- The courage he showed after a dump truck hit him, landing him in the hospital in Athens, GA. Going from being an award-winning athlete to a one-legged man was hard on him; but together, we navigated two months in the hospital, months of physical therapy, multiple trips to Augusta, GA, for prostheses fittings, losing our business, becoming pregnant again, nearly losing our home… all in less than a year. One year after that horrible accident, he won a gold medal for bench pressing in the National Amputee Games.
- His determination to show people that differently abled folks can still do alot. His “alot” included skiing on one leg, becoming a master scuba diver, teaming up with a buddy for an epic 1500-mile wheelchair push from Miami to Virginia Beach, and playing wheelchair basketball… something he relished. He even had me climb a mountain with him in NC because he wanted to prove to himself he could do it with his prosthetic leg.
- The love he had for our sons and me, always taking pictures of us and saying to me, “I love you so much” or watching our boys sleeping and saying” I love them so much.”
- His pride in hearing me speak, whether at Toastmasters or in church.
- His sense of adventure and his love for the Caribbean, a place where we enjoyed time in several island nations.
Russ died one week before our ninth wedding anniversary. I held his Virginia Beach service on our anniversary and had the church play Dan Fogelberg’s “Longer Than,” one of Russ’s favorite songs and one that was sung at our wedding. This verse really hits me:
Longer than there’ve been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there’ve been stars up in the heavens
I’ve been in love with you.
I can’t see the screen very well right now because my tears are flowing.
I will always love you, Russ; and now, more than ever, I am determined to live the rest of my earthly life in the ways you encouraged me to live them. I hope that even through my numerous mistakes, you have been proud of me, and I have no doubt you have continued to watch over our sons and me and perhaps even our three granddaughters, whom I so wish you were here to enjoy.
Thanks for loving me and our boys and for taking such great care of us. Thank you for inspiring me. Thank you for believing in me and encouraging me.
I will always love you, and I will see you some day on the other side of this life.
Amy Walton is a yoga instructor, writer, and nonprofit consultant currently living in coastal Virginia. Having recently exited a nearly 25-year relationship, she is paring down and seeking God’s guidance in leading her to greater ministry opportunities. Connect with her at amywaltoncoaching@gmail.com.