It was a warm day -- warmer than usual in January. I continued to drive down Highway 34, going west, and I wasn't sure why I was doing it. But as I reached Hampton, I was compelled to go north -- and I found myself in Polk. It was quiet, that Sunday, in the little town -- a sad quiet that for some reason I needed to hear.

I knew that I had to write a painful story that day, for the Monday paper. I needed to pay my own quiet respect of a girl I didn't even know, and yet somehow everyone knows. Somehow, she was everybody's sister, child, friend.

I didn't have a camera, but my mind was reeling with sadness and dread for having to put it into words. I saw the teenagers -- lots of them -- in their school colors of blue, white and red. They pulled into the parking lot next to the school, and slowly, one by one and in groups, they walked into the school arm-in-arm, hearts heavy and tears in their eyes.

I drove back to York, I guess, because I found myself staring at a computer screen. No notes in the world could possibly describe the nature of tragedy -- but I wrote the words that a young, vibrant girl from this extended community and the Crossroads Conference family was gone.

The next days were mixed with basketball games, ribbons in the Polk-Hordville colors, awards and recognition. They were filled with cheers and so many tears. Professionalism went out the window, as I put my camera down and cried with everyone else.

All these memories flooded back to me when our newspaper received a letter from a group of teenage athletes. It simply read, "This weekend will be a year since we lost our friend in a car accident, as she was driving to meet the bus for their first game of the CRC tournament. Her death has affected so many of our lives even though we mostly knew her through our school events -- but whenever Lisa would see us anywhere, she always took a moment to say 'Hi' and had that infectious smile. She was truly in love with life and I guess we can see why God thought He needed her on His team. Lisa may have been our rival on the court -- but in our hearts she was our friend."

Tributes from these young athletes, family members and friends appear on the page opposite this column. One year later, she remains in the memory and hearts of so many.

It's colder this Monday morning, but I can still feel the warmth of that day in January, one year ago. I remember wishing this family, and all these kids, didn't have to go through this -- but as the letter shows, the warmth of love and caring would get them through that day and many more to follow.

Warm days in January will come and go, but the young souls of people like Lisa Garrett will live forever. So will the love and caring of others, like her friends, family and the extended community of the Crossroads Conference -- one year later and for many years to come.