Aric Hutchinson and Samantha Miller were beginning their journey as husband and wife when an unimaginable tragedy struck. What should have been the happiest day of their lives ended in heartbreak and loss.
Just hours after exchanging vows, the couple departed their wedding reception on Folly Beach, South Carolina, in a low-speed vehicle (LSV) adorned with sparklers. Operated by Aric’s relatives, Benjamin and Brogan Garrett, the street-legal cart was heading toward the couple’s accommodation, just two blocks away, when disaster struck.
A rented Toyota driven by 25-year-old Jamie Lee Komoroski collided with the back of the LSV at high speed. Data revealed Komoroski was driving 65 mph in a 25 mph zone and had barely attempted to brake before the crash, which occurred around 10 p.m.
Tragically, Samantha died at the scene from blunt force injuries, while Aric suffered severe injuries, including broken bones and a brain injury. He remains in critical condition. Benjamin Garrett was also hospitalized with serious injuries, while Brogan was treated and later released.
Komoroski, allegedly under the influence at the time of the crash, faces charges of reckless vehicular homicide and three counts of driving under the influence causing death. Each DUI charge carries a potential sentence of up to 25 years in prison. Authorities confirmed the LSV was properly equipped with lights and legal for nighttime driving.
Samantha’s mother, devastated by the loss, shared her grief: “She literally ran into my daughter going 65 miles an hour. Sammie and Aric were on the back of the golf cart, and she just whammed my child.”
Samantha’s sister, Mandi Jenkins, recalled the horrifying moment: “We were sitting on the balcony in our pajamas and heard the sirens. They kept going and going. When my sister didn’t respond to my texts, we drove to the scene, and what we saw was devastating.”
Komoroski refused to provide a breath sample at the police station. A warrant was issued for blood samples, and results are pending.
In the wake of the tragedy, Aric’s mother, Annette Hutchinson, created a GoFundMe campaign to cover medical expenses and funeral costs. She wrote: “Aric has had one of two reconstruction surgeries, numerous broken bones, and a brain injury. He has lost the love of his life.” The fundraiser has raised nearly $600,000 as of Wednesday, far surpassing its $100,000 goal.
Another campaign, started by Samantha’s sister Mandi, has raised $37,000 of its $10,000 goal to honor Samantha’s memory.
“Samantha was fearless, and that’s exactly how she lived her last day,” Mandi wrote. “She was so excited to start her life with Aric. You could feel the love on that beach.”
Our deepest condolences go out to Samantha’s family and friends. May she rest in peace.
Please share this story to help spread awareness about the devastating impact of driving under the influence.
I Found Tiny Childrens Shoes on My Late Husbands Grave Every Time I Visited, Their Secret Changed My Life
When Ellen visits Paul’s grave, seeking solace, she’s puzzled by the sight of children’s shoes resting on his headstone. At first, she dismisses it, assuming it’s a mistake by another grieving family. But as more shoes appear over time, the mystery deepens. Determined to understand, Ellen eventually catches the person responsible—and her life changes in an instant.
The first time I saw the shoes, I thought someone had made a mistake. A small pair of blue sneakers lay beside Paul’s headstone, neatly arranged as if left with intention. I figured a grieving parent had misplaced them. People do strange things when they mourn—I know I did. After Paul passed away in a sudden accident, I spent an entire week making jam that I knew I’d never eat. It was the only thing that made me feel like I was doing something, anything.
But those shoes were different. They didn’t belong, and I moved them aside before placing my flowers by Paul’s grave. It wasn’t until my next visit that I noticed something unusual: there were more shoes. This time, tiny red rain boots. Then, during another visit, I found dark green sneakers. It was too deliberate to be random. And it didn’t make sense. Paul and I never had children. I tried to convince myself it was a mistake—a grieving parent finding comfort in placing shoes at the wrong grave—but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
As the shoes multiplied with each visit, it felt like an invisible hand was pulling at the fragile threads of peace I had stitched together. Frustrated, I stopped visiting for a while, hoping that by staying away, the shoes would disappear. They didn’t. Instead, they kept coming. When I finally returned, six pairs of children’s shoes stood in a neat row beside Paul’s headstone, like a haunting tribute I couldn’t comprehend.
My sadness turned into anger. Who was doing this? Was this some cruel joke?
Then, one cold morning, I finally saw her. She was crouched beside the grave, gently placing a pair of small brown sandals next to the growing collection. Her long, dark hair swayed in the breeze as she carefully arranged them, her movements slow and purposeful.
“Hey! You!” I yelled, charging toward her, the flowers I had brought slipping from my grasp, forgotten.
She flinched but didn’t run. Instead, she stood slowly, dusting off her coat before turning to face me. That’s when my breath caught in my throat.
It was Maya—Paul’s old secretary. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since she abruptly left her job. She had always been warm and cheerful, but the woman standing before me now seemed burdened with a sorrow I recognized all too well.
“Maya?” I whispered, the disbelief heavy in my voice.
She nodded, her eyes red with unshed tears. Without a word, she reached into her coat pocket and handed me a worn photograph. My hands shook as I took it, my heart pounding in my chest.
It was a picture of Paul, smiling down at a baby boy cradled in his arms.
“His name is Oliver,” Maya said softly. “He’s Paul’s son.”
I stumbled backward, the world spinning as the weight of her words sank in. My husband, the man I thought I knew so well, had lived a secret life—with a child.
“You and Paul were…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Maya nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. But after Paul’s accident, Oliver started asking about his dad. I told him Paul was watching over him, and every time Oliver gets a new pair of shoes, he asks me to bring the old ones to his daddy.”
The shoes… they were a child’s way of staying connected to the father he had lost.
I wanted to scream, to demand answers from a man who could no longer give them. But standing there, staring at the shoes left behind by a little boy who would never know his father, I felt my anger start to melt into something else—something softer.
Maya looked at me with guilt etched on her face. “I’ll stop bringing the shoes. I never meant to upset you.”
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