A family from New Jersey is heartbroken after losing their 6-year-old daughter, Lucy Morgan, in a tragic accident while on vacation.
The accident happened when Lucy was watching her family play badminton. During the game, a racquet broke during a swing, and a piece of metal flew off and hit Lucy in the head, causing a serious brain injury.
Lucy’s father, Pastor Jesse Morgan, shared the sad details on his blog, New Creation Living. He described how June 1 started like any other day on their family vacation in Limerick, Maine. But then everything changed, and he now believes his little girl is with Jesus.
The family quickly understood how serious Lucy’s injury was. Jesse explained on his blog that after the metal hit Lucy, she became unresponsive but was still breathing. His wife, Bethany Morgan, went with Lucy in the ambulance to a nearby hospital. Later, Lucy was airlifted to Maine Medical Center in Portland because they knew her life was in serious danger.
“When Lucy arrived at the hospital, she went straight to the operating room. Doctors removed part of her skull to relieve pressure from her injury. She went into cardiac arrest but they brought her back and finished the surgery,” Jesse wrote on his blog. “In the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU), we were told there was a very slim chance she would recover.”
Jesse Morgan shared that just a month before the accident, Lucy had expressed a desire to be with God. She told her parents she wanted to be saved and live with God. After a conversation with her mother, Lucy went to her room to pray.
“She prayed to God to forgive her and told Him that she believed in Jesus’ death and resurrection. What a gift,” he wrote.
Sadly, despite the medical efforts, Lucy did not recover from her injury. Jesse explained that the piece of metal had caused severe damage to her brain. Doctors informed the family that she likely would not survive.
“No blog post today. Lucy Lynn Morgan passed away this morning around 4 a.m. She now sees Jesus face to face. Thank you for all your love poured out to us,” Jesse posted on June 5, 2024, along with a picture from earlier goodbyes.
The day before her death, he wrote, “The lack of brain function over the past 48 hours shows that we are utterly devastated. If there is any good news, it’s that she hasn’t felt any pain during this time.”
“We will keep waiting on the Lord, getting second opinions, and looking for every possible option while crying out to God for a miracle,” he added. “However, as of now, our beloved daughter has been showing all the signs of brain death. There is a very good chance she will pass away and meet Jesus within 24 hours.”
In the wake of this tragedy, the family has received much love and support. Many people shared kind words about Lucy and her family on social media. Dan Cruver, a former professor of Jesse Morgan, spoke highly of him in a Facebook post.
“Jesse Morgan was a student of mine when I taught Bible and theology at Clarks Summit University 18 years ago. I remember many students, but some stand out because they frequently engaged with me after class and asked thoughtful questions. Jesse was one of those students,” he wrote.
To support the family, loved ones created a GoFundMe account, which has exceeded its original goal of $100,000 and is nearing a new goal of $130,000, with over $125,000 in donations so far.
Organizer Jill Anthony wrote, “This page is meant to provide the family with generous financial support – to help pay for meals while they are away from home, lodging for family, medical costs… whatever they need.”
Anthony also provided an update: “On June 5, Lucy went to be with the Lord. Please keep praying for the Morgans as they navigate the coming days, weeks, months, and years without their sweet Lucy.”
My Family Left Grandpa at the Hotel to Avoid Paying — They Didn’t Realize I Was the Wrong Grandson to Mess With
As the front doors slid open and my feet touched the tile, I spotted him—my grandfather—standing behind the counter.
His shoulders drooped, and his hands trembled slightly as he held a thick sheet of paper.
Just two months before, he had retired at 74, after spending 52 years working as a machinist. He’d never missed a day unless he was genuinely sick—and even then, he still called in to check on things.
Grandpa was the quiet, dependable type. Every birthday, he’d show up with a card and some money inside. He never missed one. Always giving. Never asking for anything in return.
So when my aunt, his daughter, suggested we do something meaningful for his birthday, my cousin Ashley jumped at the chance. Everyone agreed. The plan? A weeklong, all-inclusive beach resort trip. Ashley handled all the arrangements—booked five rooms, even reserved a suite with a private balcony just for Grandpa.
He was told not to worry about the cost.
So he packed his one suitcase, brought along his old fishing hat, and wore sandals for the first time in a decade. Off they went.
I couldn’t join until the final day—work obligations kept me in the city—but I booked a one-way ticket to help Grandpa get home. He hated airports. Said they made him feel disoriented.
When I arrived, the sun was out, and palm trees swayed in the breeze.
I walked into the hotel smiling.
That smile disappeared fast.
Grandpa stood alone. His suitcase was packed. The bill was in his hands. Everyone else was gone.
“They said everything was paid for,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He nodded. “That’s what I believed too. But this morning, they all got ready, said checkout was noon, and left for the airport.”
“I didn’t want to cause any trouble,” he added. “What matters is… they had a good time.”
I looked at him, then down at that bill. My fists clenched.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I stepped outside and pulled out my phone. I called Ashley. She answered on the second ring.
My voice was calm but cold. “Why did you leave Grandpa with a $12,000 bill?”
She hesitated, then laughed.
“We figured he could cover it,” she said casually. “He’s retired. Doesn’t support the family anymore. It was like… a thank-you trip. From him to us.”
“You figured?” I said, my voice tightening. “You figured it was fine to stick a seventy-four-year-old man with a $12,000 bill without asking?”
I stared at the road in front of the hotel, phone clenched in my hand, while laughter drifted over from the pool.
“Let me be clear,” I said flatly. “He’s not the one who looks foolish. You are.”
Inside, I could still hear Grandpa trying to explain things at the front desk, still apologizing for something he didn’t cause.
I went back in and paid the entire bill myself. The manager printed the receipt, and I asked for a detailed breakdown by room. She promised to email it within the hour.
That night, I called an old college friend who’s now a lawyer. Sharp, meticulous.
By morning, we had:
A full itemized invoice, with each relative’s charges clearly outlined.
Security footage from the lobby shows them checking out, no goodbyes, no hesitation.
Written confirmation from staff that Grandpa had been left behind and told he was responsible for the charges.
We drafted formal letters:
“You are responsible for the charges listed below. Payment is expected within 14 days. If not received, I will pursue reimbursement in small claims court for fraud, financial abuse of a senior, and abandonment.”
Each envelope contained the invoice with their charges highlighted in yellow.
Three days later, Ashley paid in full. No apology. Just a bank transfer with a sour-faced emoji in the memo. Her brother followed, then my aunt. One by one, the money came back.
In two weeks, all $12,000 had been reimbursed—except for Grandpa’s part.
I told the lawyer to leave that untouched.
Thanksgiving passed in silence. No calls. No invites.
Grandpa didn’t seem surprised.
But he’s different now—lighter, happier. He laughs more freely. In a strange way, that awful trip gave him something priceless: closure. A clean slate. A brand-new chapter.
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