Wreckage, uncertainty left by hit-and-run drivers

Christopher Laurent wanted to go into sports medicine and wasn't far from getting his degree in kinesiology at Cal State Fullerton. It would have been an impressive achievement for a young man who grew up without a father, and apparently didn't use that as an excuse to grow up angry or aimless. Everything about Laurent, 24, is past tense now, because he was killed Friday on the 405 Freeway in West L.A. when he was struck by a hit-and-run driver around 2:15 a.m.

Less than 48 hours later, another Orange County man was killed by a hit-and-run driver while crossing the street in front of his apartment building in Anaheim. David Rosewarne was 55 and had been married 31 years. He and his wife had four children, and Rosewarne's last act on Earth had been to eyeball his daughter's new car in a shopping mall across the street before walking back home around 7:30 p.m. Saturday.

We all have our views on why some lives get snatched so quickly and cruelly. Some think it's all part of a grand designer's plan; others think it happens because, in essence, it happens.

The what-ifs last a lifetime for the family and friends of the victims.

If only Rosewarne had lingered another minute at his daughter's car. If only he'd crossed the street in a different place. If only the hit-and-run driver had hit a red light a block earlier.

If only Laurent had taken a friend's offer to spend the night in his Sherman Oaks home instead of heading back to Orange County. If only he had stayed in his car when it was disabled. Another friend, Gabriel Iribarne, says Laurent probably left because he liked to sleep in his own bed rather than stay overnight.

Iribarne had known Laurent, a 2001 graduate of Aliso Niguel High School, since ninth grade and theorizes that he may have nodded off before hitting the median that set off the deadly chain of events. He'd seen him doze off before in the wee hours when the two were hanging out.

Aside from their cruel fates, something else links the two men's deaths -- their demise at the hands of hit-and-run drivers. What strikes me in listening to friends and relatives talk about the deaths is how similar their reactions are, specifically how it represents a hole in the story line of the person who died.

It reminds me of families of soldiers killed in battle. As painful as the details are, they always want to know.