Water Can Be Just As Thick as Blood
Region's Competitive-Swimming Community Rallies Around a Family Touched by Tragedy

By Donna St. George
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, July 23, 2007

On a two-lane road in Fairfax City, Carly and Olivia Aull were headed to swim practice at 4:45 a.m., the improbable hour when several thousand competitive swimmers in the Washington area arrive at their pools. Carly, 17, was at the wheel as they passed apartments, then a school, making their way along Jermantown Road.

Going too fast, Carly lost control, police said. The car slid sideways, slamming into a utility pole.

The crash that left 14-year-old Olivia dead -- and her older sister bruised, with an eye injury -- has in the past 12 days become a shared loss, reaching beyond the Aull family and their Greenbriar neighborhood, and in many ways spanning the network of swim clubs and teams that are part of the fabric of summer in the Washington region.

Swim families have sent flowers, written notes, made posters, cooked food and printed T-shirts -- "Aull for One, One for Aull" -- in a wave of generosity and support that says a lot about how community is created in an era when many parents work outside the home and family weekends revolve around children's sports.

With swimming in particular, the time commitment is so intense, especially in summer months, and the parents are often so deeply involved that families cannot help but feel connected. It can take 40 parents to run a summer meet, which often goes on for hours, leaving long lulls to gather on pool decks and bleachers and trade bits of family life.

When tragedy strikes, it is widely felt, and few in recent times have seemed more painful: One daughter gone and the other involved in the crash, which happened on the way to practice.

In this dark time, parents Luke and Mary Ellen Aull say they have been overwhelmed by the outpouring from friends, neighbors and swim families. Their dogs have been walked, their dinners delivered, their lawn mowed. At the hospital that horrific morning July 11, their first friends to arrive were swim coaches.

But concern for the Aulls has also come from strangers, and at night they pore over a growing stack of cards and letters. Many have come from parents who say things such as:

"You don't know me, but my daughter swam with your daughter . . . "

Or: "I have a son who drives to morning practice, and I have always worried . . . "

"You just never know how many friends you have until something like this happens," Mary Ellen said.

"When this happened, our swim family -- and it's a very big family -- these people just came out for us," Luke said.

Greg York, the sisters' year-round coach, said it is the kind of tragedy that feels universal. "You don't need to know Olivia, you don't need to know Carly to be supportive, because there are hundreds of Olivias and hundreds of Carlys at every practice, and it could strike any one of us at any time," he said.

Then there is the memory of Olivia herself: "Liv," a bright, high-spirited girl who was a Junior Olympic qualifier for her backstroke but also the upbeat social butterfly of her group. She was at every pep rally and sock hop and bowling party -- the kind of kid who, no matter how tired, laughed with friends and did belly-flops when practice ended.

Her parents recall Olivia as a "young" 14, a girl who so loved Christmas that they played holiday music at her funeral, who still had Care Bears and Hello Kitty trinkets and was just starting to wear makeup, who plastered her bedroom walls with photos of pop star Miley Cyrus.

"Olivia had all the personality in the world," said York, her coach at the York Swim Club, who was leading practice on the day of her death.

Next month, she would have started ninth grade at Chantilly High School, where a shed near the football practice field has been painted: "We Love You Liv" and "We'll Aullways Remember." Olivia had joined the cross-country team and had plans to join the Chantilly swim team in the winter.

There is also a deep well of support for Carly, the quieter, more serious sister, a distinguished swimmer on three teams and a dedicated student who was Olivia's guiding force, her mother said. "It's nothing but an accident," Mary Ellen Aull said. "It could happen to any of us."

Police say Carly Aull was driving a Nissan Altima "well above" the 30 mph speed limit as she approached the 3600 block of Jermantown Road that still-dark morning. Speed and driver inexperience were factors in the crash, said Officer Jeff Morrison of the Fairfax City Police. Carly had had her driver's license a couple of months, her parents said.

At the place on Jermantown Road where Carly lost control, just after a curve, there is little margin for error. The utility pole she hit is just beyond the paved traffic lane, with no curb in between.

The site is now marked by a small white cross that reads "Olivia."

Pre-dawn practice is routine for many year-round competitive swim teams, who use the pool in off-hours, when space is more widely available. In the Washington region, 8,000 youths are year-round competitive swimmers, and some of the summer leagues are among the nation's largest.

"You know it could've been your kid," said Steve Duesterhaus, a swim team official at the Greenbriar summer pool at which the Aull girls were members. "Just imagining what the Aulls are going through. . . . People want to do something. They so desperately want to do something."

Olivia's friends helped her family choose what to put in her coffin: a Hannah Montana CD, Harry Potter novels, "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" books, an Archie comic book, her favorite "Gilmore Girls" episode, peanut M&Ms, a Barbie doll, a Care Bear, a Maryland Terps jersey and a Ravens cap -- and her swim gear from the Greenbriar and York teams.

Because Olivia did not get to read the newest Harry Potter book, her family has decided to read it to her at her grave.

The teenager was buried this past Monday after a service that drew more than 400 people. Everyone was then invited to a reception at the Aull home, where swim families worked with friends and neighbors to organize food, drinks, tables, chairs and tents. The group set it up, cleaned it up, then drove away with 20 bags of garbage.

The swim family had been coming together for days.

Olivia's death came amid the summer season, when swimmers are at the pool almost daily, not only for practice and meets, but also for Friday pep rallies, pasta dinners and movie nights. For six or eight weeks, swimming can become more than a sport. It can become a way of life.

Word of the tragedy spread quickly. In Olivia's memory, several Virginia teams have donated to a scholarship fund administered by the Northern Virginia Swimming League.

At meets the day Olivia died, teams from 18 divisions honored her with moments of silence. Afterward, at 10 p.m., her summer pool held a vigil that drew 300 to 400 mourners. One parent brought hundreds of candles from her church. "It struck me that Olivia had 500 best friends," said Maureen Choudhury, a close family friend.

Three days later, when the Greenbriar team competed again, its opponents from Dunn Loring decorated a banner in Olivia's memory and wore green memorial ribbons on their shirts.

When it was Olivia's turn to swim that day, her team left the lane open to honor the missing swimmer. Everyone stood and clapped for the race, which was won by Olivia's close friend Kacey Norwood.

At the NVSL All-Star relays last week, four of Olivia's close friends competed in her memory, their backs done up in marker with the words "I Love Liv" and their forearms initialed with "OA" and "CA" to honor both Aull sisters.

The 200-meter medley relay team -- Kacey, Justine Ferrari, Leigh Siegfried and Maggie Shaw -- was at a disadvantage without Olivia's backstroke but happy to have qualified for the all-stars. The qualification event was the day of Olivia's death.

Now, on the evening of July 18, they charged through the water, thinking of their friend.

First Kacey, then Justine, then Leigh, then Maggie.

At the end, the time board showed 2:18:00.

They had broken their pool's record.