Dear Ed, Betty, and Ben,

These words seem surreal as I type them, but, I am deeply sorry for your,
and my, loss.

On my first day at GWU, I met three people who would be friends with me
throughout college: Bruce Wham, Elizabeth Zych, and Pam Darnell. Each was
an absolute treasure to me.

I have many fond memories of Pam. I�ve given tours of the GWU campus with
her, I�ve thrown streams of toilet paper over buildings during homecoming
with her, I�ve cooked dinner for her, and I�ve been witness to that
indelible smile of hers hundreds of times.

If I had to pick a moment that exemplifies her glowing personality, it would
be a very dark time in my life. I had a car wreck near the end of my fall
senior semester that would force me to withdraw from the term and return to
Florida for treatment. I had my mail forwarded to my home on a regular
basis, and in the midst of extremely painful treatments to begin to walk
again under my full weight, I received a little card with a sticker on the
back and in bold, friendly letters, my name was inscribed on the front. I
opened it, and inside was an encouraging note from Pam, telling me that she
was praying for me and wishing me a speedy recovery. I kept that note on my
table, and though I could hardly get out of bed some mornings because of
intense pain, I would read her note, and others, and would get enough
encouragement to soldier through it.

When I returned to campus, I was a different person. I was still in a lot
of pain, and the severity of the wreck had continuing effects, including
insomnia and blackouts. Pam and I crossed paths again regarding the wreck
when I was asked to speak at Celebration week in 2004. She apparently heard
that I was on the roster to speak, and told me she would be praying for me
during my presentation. The night finally came, and I went up, gingerly, to
the stage. Public speaking regarding my personal life, particularly in
front of blinding lights, was apparently not my forte. I couldn�t see much
with the spotlights in my face, but as I spoke about the wreck, how I was
resuscitated, and how the recovery affected me spiritually, I looked out in
the crowd for her�and I didn�t see her.

I finished a speech that felt like hours, but, in reality was only a few
minutes. I found my way to an open seat, and sat through the rest of the
service.

I went underneath the stage after the night had finished to have a
conversation with someone who heard my testimony and wanted to speak to me,
and in the murky, dirty, and dark area under the stage, there was a small,
concentrated brunette, praying her heart out to God. At that point, it had
hit me�just was literally underneath me, holding me up, and praying for my
strength during my testimony. It resonated on a very deep level for me.

I talked to the stranger for a few minutes, and prayed with him. His life
story also involved a wreck, which ended the life of his friend and injured
him extensively. He had many questions, but few answers. I couldn�t offer
much, but knowing that someone else went through a similar experience seemed
to help him.

I found Pam afterwards, and hugged her, while letting her know how much I
appreciated her.

It�s hard for me to understand how a person like Pam can exist. I struggle
daily with anger, and bitterness, and pain, but those things never seemed to
overcome her love for others, and her love of serving others. We all knew
that she was sick, but it was never an issue with her. She made it so easy
to be around her, and I can rarely remember a time where I heard her
complain about any sickness or pain. She was such an amazing and wonderful
human being.

I�ll always regret that I never knew her better. The times I had with her
picking out a background song for a video project for class or studying for
an exam I�ll always remember, and love.

And I still have her get-well card on my table.

-Nathan Workman