Amber Merkle

died 8 years young

A chance encounter

A magic show, a little girl taught Trinity teen about the value of life

By Derek Thacker
DAILY Teen Board Member

"Wow! Can you disappear me, too?" This was one of many astounded, grammatically incorrect reactions I received one year while performing magic shows for kindergarten through sixth-grade students at West Morgan Elementary School. Mrs. Smith, a former librarian there, used to ask me to do these shows every October for National Magic Week. This show, however, was different.

Derek Thacker was touched by an old thank-you note from West Morgan Elementary School student Amber Merkle, inset, who died in car accident in May.

It was a crisp, fall morning. My former second-grade teacher, Mrs. Dukes, had brought her class to see the show. Mesmerized eyes watched as red bandannas flew through the air and cards vanished and reappeared in strange places. After a big finale, the children expressed their enjoyment with spirited applause.

Mrs. Dukes and I had been close when I was in her class, so she asked her students to write thank-you notes to me. I read the notes and appreciated them, then filed the manila envelope away in a box on my shelf.

More than a year passed, and May came. Warm breezes tickled new, green leaves hanging from trees on the mountain where I live. The din from my neighbor's lawn mower roared in my ears. A dog from a few houses down yapped at an imagined intruder. I don't remember why I turned on the television that day. Maybe I wanted to mask the sounds of the neighborhood, or perhaps I was bored. As I flipped the rarely used set on, I caught the end of a news report.

"An 8-year-old girl was killed by a drunk driver," the newscaster said. I didn't think too much about it. I put the report in the back of my mind.

The next day, our newspaper arrived. Removing the elastic band from the thick, Sunday paper, I read the headline: "8-year-old girl killed by a drunk driver."

I remembered the news story from the day before. The victim was Amber Merkle, a West Morgan Elementary student. As I read the article, a strange feeling of familiarity seeped into the pit of my stomach.

I thought back to the magic show. The picture of the little girl in the newspaper and on the television fit the age group of the students for whom I had performed. As I pulled out the dusty envelope and read the notes from the children, a smile spread across my face as I remembered theirs. Coming to the bottom of the stack, I was relieved that I hadn't performed for the little girl. Then, I reached for the last note. It stood out from the rest. While the other children had written their letters on the front of the notebook paper, this child had written hers on the back.

Dear Derek,

Thank you for coming to our school and doing magic tricks for us. I liked the part when you had the bandana, and you stuck the quarter in the bandana.

It was signed, "Your friend, Amber Merkle."

Though I never knew little Amber, I feel as if she was my friend. How I remembered her name from the notes I'd received more than a year before, I'll never know. Her death seemed like such a waste. It saddened me to know that she'll never know the joy of turning 9, getting a locker at school or going to prom.

It comforted me to realize, however, that I was able to help her experience the wonder of a magic show. I close my tribute to her with these words: "Your friend, Derek Thacker."

Derek Thacker is a 17-year-old, home-schooled senior from Trinity.