Apparently that was weird.
I turned off my phone.
Then I drove to the small office where the Lily & Noah Road Safety
Foundation had just received its incorporation documents.
The settlement could not buy my family back.
But I could decide what happened next.
PART 4 — WHAT $18.7 MILLION MEANT
People hear a settlement number and imagine a bank account changing
overnight.
Reality was more complicated.
My lawyers explained every allocation.
There were claims connected to Ethan’s estate.
Claims arising from Lily’s and Noah’s deaths.
My own claims.
Fees and case expenses.
Tax questions requiring professional advice.
Long-term planning.
I hired an independent financial adviser and an estate attorney.
I did not announce what remained personally available to me.
It was nobody’s business.
The foundation received an initial contribution large enough to begin
meaningful work but not so large that grief became an excuse for
reckless governance.
I insisted on an independent board.
Margaret joined as a family representative.
A pediatric trauma physician joined.
So did a highway-safety researcher and a nonprofit attorney.
I refused to control every vote.
Ethan had always teased me for reading instructions before assembling
anything.
“Someone wrote them for a reason,” I used to say.
