trib•ute:
a : something given or contributed voluntarily as due or deserved; especially : a gift or service showing
respect, gratitude, or affection
b : something (as material evidence or a formal attestation) that indicates
the worth, virtue, or effectiveness of the one in question.


This blog is our tribute to a man worth knowing. A man worth loving. A man worth remembering.



Saturday, December 25, 2010

Friday, December 25, 2009

As December 25th has been approaching, I've just been dreading it. My mind connects to things like dates and times, as probably most of your minds do. So I've known all along that I will think of exactly what I was doing at certain times that whole day. I'm sorry if this is wierd for anyone, but I feel like I need to write about this day. Writing it out, sharing, seems to me like it will make it easier.


The last really conscious memory I have of Justin is kind of silly. We were best friends with our neighbors, Jeff and Sara, across the hall. We had been hanging at their place, and Justin had gone to bed because he had to work in the morning, but I stayed to play cards. There were five of us hanging out. I ran home to grab something, and I saw Justin snoring away on the bed with our obese cat Goose nestled in his arms. It was so cute, I had to go back and sneak everyone from the other aprtment in to peak at him. As we were looking on, he rustled, yawned, looked up and said "What are you guys doing?" We all giggled and snuck out to let him go back to sleep.


Next, I have a flash of a memory of him tucking me in at 5:00 am, kissing me, telling me he loved me. That was the last time I saw him alive. And I just rolled over and fell back asleep.


He texted me several times throughout the day to tell me he loved me. He was excited because we had 3 couples and some of his guy friends coming over for the Blazer game that night.


I called him around 3:30pm to say hi, see how he was doing. Usually when I would call Justin at work, someone would answer, I would ask for Justin, and they would radio him to tell him I was on the phone. I could always hear them call him, "Justin Florek, your wife's on the phone." And then I could hear Justin reply in the background, over the radio, and shortly, he would be on the line with me. This time, when they radioed him, there was no reply. For the first time in five years, no reply. I remember thinking it was a bit strange, but not anything serious. They said they would have him call me back.


No call. But I was busy. I was cleaning, making food, etc. in preparation for our company. at 6:00 pm everyone began to arrive, and I was busy in the kitchen making margaritas. Around 6:25 I started to get annoyed because we were all waiting for Justin to get home so we could start the game.


At around 6:40 there was a knock at the door. That annoyed me even more, because I was elbows deep in limes, and why couldn't Justin just pull out his keys and open the door himself. I ran over and flung open the door. Not Justin. A police officer and another man. Asking for me. Seriously, my thoughts were "What in the world did I do?" They asked me if they could talk privately, seeing as my house was full of people. I took them out to the hall and downstairs in our little fourplex.


The next words I'll never get out of my head. "Have you heard from Justin? Nobody at Equa Chlor can find him. He is missing. They think he may have fallen into the salt pile." At first I thought it was a joke. How could that be? But instantly my mind went to the fact that he hadn't answered his radio earlier. My knees went weak. I knew Justin, and I knew it was bad. I told them I needed to sit down. I remember crawling up the stairs to my apartment. By the time I ot inside, I was drenched in tears and hyperventilating, with my house full of guests staring at me in bewilderment.


All I could think of was to call his mom. I tried. No answer. So I called his little brother. David answered. I could barely speak except to ask where he was. He was with the family having dinner. He gave the phone to Susie. All I could say was that Justin was missing and we needed to go to Equa Chlor. I remember her screaming, crying, not much else from that conversation.


My hands went numb, and I couldn't move my lips. I told the officer, and he said I was having an adreneline rush. He had two of my friends walk me around the block to calm me down. Then we drove to the plant.


I will never forget the sight of Justin's empty truck, windows frosted from the night chill. Empty. He hadn't left. He hadn't left me. The mind is a crazy thing, and I actually had entertained the idea that he had run away from me, from our life, and just disappeared. Seeing that truck made me wish my thoughts were true. The alternative was much worse.


The next 36 hours were a blur. Staring at the giant pile of salt. Seeing each worker come in to where the family was, sadness, fear in their eyes. Everyone wanted to find him, and nobody wanted to find him. All these ideas: "Maybe if we put some radios together to get feedback, we hear Justin's radio." Didn't work. "Maybe if we get a metal detector we can locate him in the salt pile." Didn't work. "Maybe if we bring in search dogs, they can scent him out." I watched above, from the catwalk, as the dogs searched and searched, finding hotspots, only to turn up nothing. It broke my heart to have Jim, Justin's father, next to me, saying through tears "Please, please."


They finally told us it could be days before they recovered Justin's body. And so I went home.

It was about 1:00 am Saturday morning when I went home. all I could do was put a pillow over my face and scream and scream, while my friends sat around me and cried. About an hour later, the plant called. They had found a video of someone walking on the salt pile, and needed me to confirm it was Justin. So back to the plant I went.


Of course it was Justin. On a mission, walking that walk. He walked off camera, and it occurred to me that I had probably just wintessed the last minute of his life. I stayed at the plant for the next 25 hours or so. They brought big machines in to dig through the salt, but the process was slow. At 3:00 am Sunday morning, they found Justin's stocking cap. An hour later they found his body.


And I went home and slept. I found out later that Justin's crew had insisted on carrying his body out themselves. To honor him.


I don't know why, but writing it all out and sharing it seems to help. I hope it hasn't hurt anyone in any way.





Wednesday, December 22, 2010

A Beautiful Tribute To Justin

Today was special, and sad, because we were able to place a tribute at the Equa Chlor gate for Plumey. It's the first time I have been back inside those gates since the night they told me they had recovered his body.

This is the gate into the plant. Behind it you can see a portion of the salt pile, where Justin lost his life.



Some of Justin's old coworkers, as well as some new plant employees, were able to come out and join us in putting up the poster and flowers.



The family, Heather, Karen, Jayla, Susie, Jim, Amber, and Peggy, with Justin's picture.



The Equa Chlor employees who were able to come out and share this with us.



I was so excited and happy, because all of the workers wear this sticker on their hardhats (see it in the pictures above?) in tribute to Justin (he would've especially liked this one because of the Seahawks).


A tough thing to do, going back and seeing that huge pile of salt. I can't imagine being one of the workers, having to do that everyday, especially right after it happened. But how kind of the plant to let us put Justin's picture up in memory (especially one with that offensive mustache!).


We will truly never be able to forget that smiling face.