Mark Sterner is not a guy you would immediately peg as one of the busiest college speakers in the country. He never set out to be a speaker, and given the choice to roll back time and change his history, he'd probably rather be selling insurance like his brother.
But, that's not the way his history unfolded. He ended up with a tragic story that has taken him to more than 1,200 colleges, universities and high schools since I first met him in 1999.
Several years ago, Mark was getting ready to graduate college. It was his senior year, and like many kids from blue-collar circumstances, he was about to become the first person in his family to graduate college. It was a time of celebration. Graduation was in sight. Mark and four of his fraternity brothers made plans to spend their Spring Break in Sanibel Island, Florida, where one of their parents had a condo.
Sanibel Island wasn't much of a Spring Break location, so each night they'd pile into the Lincoln Town Car they had rented and they would drive to the nearest bar, looking for a little fun. Each night, they'd designate a sober driver, and for the first five nights, the system worked fine.
Their Spring Break was fairly typical – maybe even a little dull compared to those of their friends who had gone to Daytona or Panama City Beach. They drank too much in the evenings, and they got sunburned from falling asleep in the sun during the days. Personal video cameras were the new, cool thing at the time, and the men taped their exploits – from shots on the condo patio to lame dancing at half-empty bars. They were all incredibly bad dancers, and the alcohol didn't help.
This story plays out every year for thousands of young college students. They safely return to the final weeks of college, their livers recovering, with memories that will last a lifetime. That's not how the story ended for Mark and his brothers.
The final night of Spring Break, no one wanted to be the designated driver a second time. It was the final night, after all, and they wanted it to be memorable. Unwisely, they decided that the least drunk among them would take the wheel on the way home. That person was Mark.
After taping their exploits in a local bar, they headed home along the dark, two-lane Florida roads that led back to their condo. The alcohol and the young male bravado took over. Mark drove too fast, eager to see what the Town Car could do.
The next thing Mark remembers is waking up in a hospital, several days later. His body was badly damaged. Three of his fraternity brothers were dead. Police waited outside his hospital room to charge him with three counts of felony manslaughter. Instead of being the first in his family to graduate college, he would be the first in his family to go to prison.
Mark's story is the ultimate example of how one bad decision can alter the entire course of a person's life. Now a felon, Mark found himself grieving his friends, coping with guilt, and pondering his destroyed life from the sterile surroundings of a minimum security prison in Florida.
For many of us, we hear Mark's story and realize that it could have happened as easily to us. But for the grace of God...
Approximately 45 nights each semester, Mark gets up in front of audiences nationwide and shares his story. I've watched from the back of the room at least a dozen times. He shows video the men took during their trip. He shows pictures of the mangled Town Car and pictures of the brothers he lost. He doesn't preach, he doesn't give motivational messages like many who have picked up the shattered pieces of their lives. He simply tells students that they need to stay vigilant and consistently make good decisions. It's a simple, straightforward message. This happened to me, and there's no reason it couldn't happen to you if you aren't smart.
Each year, we get the most passionate emails and letters from students who have been touched by Mark's story. They talk about friends they have lost to impaired driving. They tell Mark that later that year they had a night where they thought about getting behind the wheel impaired, remembered his program, and made a better decision.
It's been a long, weird journey for Mark. Frankly, I don't know how he manages to get up each evening and share the worst experience of his life. I don't know how he deals with the occasional crazy who asks him how it felt to kill his friends. I don't know why he hasn't retired his suitcases and moved on to some other, more normal way of making a living. He certainly has other opportunities. It's not as if looking at the pictures of his dead friends every night is his only option. Most in his position would have done everything possible to distance themselves.
This coming week begins National Collegiate Alcohol Awareness Week (NCAAW). I thought of writing something about why you, as a student leader, should still care about promoting awareness and prevention of alcohol abuse. The tragedies caused by alcohol and poor judgment are real.
Instead, I decided to celebrate Mark. After a decade, he's still our busiest speaker, and probably the one on our roster I admire the most. The number of lives he's saved is countless.
He will be busy this NCAAW speaking to audiences in Texas, D.C., Alabama, Pennsylvania, and New York. Like Mark, we need to stay vigilant in helping young people understand the power of good personal choices. History need not repeat itself.