'2,557 Days Since You Went To Heaven': Family Mourns LI Boy Scout Killed By Drunk Driver, Fights For Change

WADING RIVER, NY — It has been seven years since Wading River Boy Scout Andrew McMorris, 12, died after he was hit by a drunk driver in a 2018 crash while out on a hike with his troop in Manorville. But for his family and the many who loved him, the pain is eternally a heartbeat away.

His family celebrated Andrew's beautiful life with a the 7th Annual Andrew McMorris Foundation Gala Tuesday; the event raised funds for scholarships that will be awarded in their son's name.

But despite their vow to parent his legacy, the loss is ever-present. October 1 will forever mark the dark day that they said good-bye to the child who illuminated their lives and hearts with love.

"It’s been 2,557 days since you left this earth and went to heaven," Andrew's father John McMorris wrote on social media Wednesday. "There is not a day or moment we don’t think about you, sweet Andrew. The hole in our heart will always be there but we will continue to keep your spirit and memory alive."

On Tuesday night, John said: "We celebrated your life, raised money for scholarships and grants in your memory and fueled our mission to end drunk driving. We pray that our events continue to strengthen your spirit and extends our message to even more people than before. Andrew, we love you to the moon and back, times infinity. Please continue to be with us. You’ll never be forgotten."

The driver who plowed into Andrew's Scout troop, Thomas Murphy, of Holbrook, was found guilty on all counts in 2019 and received the maximum sentence of eight and one-third to 25 years in prison in 2020.

And it was an emotional day in July, 2023 when an appeal was denied for Murphy.

Andrew's mother Alisa McMorris read an impact statement that brought the courtroom to tears on the day that Murphy was initially sentenced.

On the last day of his life, September 30, 2018, Andrew came into her room with the dog, told her it was a beautiful day, and asked to open the window, she said. "I remember thinking, 'His voice is changing,'" she said. He got into bed for a snuggle, she said, and suddenly, he was her little boy again.

"Soon, he asked, 'Is it time to get up, Mom? Is it time?'" she said. "I've replayed that moment 1,000 times. I want to go back and say, 'No.' I want to hold him. I want to stop time at 7:46 a.m."

Later, the family went to church and then headed to the hike, where Alisa took a photo of her son by the Pine Barrens sign. The hike was a big deal, she said, and she wanted to photo for the Eagle Scout album she would one day compile.

"I didn't want to leave," she said. But the day was full; Arianna, Andrew's sister, had a Girl Scout Silver Award ceremony. "I said goodbye to my men. Then I asked Andrew if he was okay, if he needed anything, and he waved. That was the last time I saw him."

Then came the phone call. There had been an accident. Andrew was hurt, she said. "I said, 'Is he breathing?'"

Her husband told her to hurry, she said; Andrew was bleeding and his legs were broken.

She recalled the terror of rushing to pick up her daughter and try to find the site. Andrew was brought to Peconic Bay Medical Center to be stabilized and later to Stony Brook University Hospital.

But she heard the words she said no parent ever should have to hear: "He has no pulse." She screamed. "Come on, Andrew! Come on, baby! Please, Andrew!"

She should have known from the faces of the group of doctors, from the words, "We have exhausted all our options," she said. "My baby boy was brain dead."

They stayed with their boy, played his favorite music, she said. Whispering to her son, she said, "My sweet boy, I'm sorry I can't fix you."

Running into the room, streaked with his blood, Alisa said her boy was so still, he seemed to be sleeping. Later that night, his hands grew cold. "I told my husband, 'He's transitioning. We have to help him.' I told him to go be with God," she said, her voice breaking.

When her boy was gone, she told the doctors that she and John wanted to wash their son and place him carefully into the body bag. "I wanted to be the last person that touched him," she said. And then, as she had so many times, she bathed her little boy, crossed his hands, and leaned down to kiss him one more time.

She said she listened to his heart, to be sure, really certain, that he wasn't breathing before she let him go.

The nights now are filled with the unimaginable, the horror she can't escape, Alisa said, images of the crash, to a place where "no one can protect my boy." Those last moments haunt, she said. She asks the questions endlessly in her heart: "Were you scared? Did you need me? Were you suffering?"

Those questions will echo forever in her broken heart.

And that's why, John and Alisa said, the continue in their tireless mission to raise awareness about the deadly consequences of drinking and driving. They have fought for years for change in legislation to prevent another family from living forever with only memories — instead of celebrating the milestones, graduations, weddings that will never be, because of that one horrific day when a drunk driver took the life of their only son.

"We will not stop making sure everyone knows your story so no one else has to lose a loved one to the preventable crime of drunk driving," John said. "Andrew, thankfully your story has already saved so many lives and we pray that your spirit continues to do so. Mom, Arianna and I as well as everyone who loves you will make sure that the message not to drink and drive gets to everyone and anyone as much as possible."