On December 3, 2002, that morning started for Christopher S. Scales as any other normal day of the week.  He awoke before the alarm went off, went about his morning rituals, kissed my children and myself goodbye and left for work at 5 am.  That day for some reason I had awoken and watched Chris pull out of the driveway and radio into headquarter that he was in route.  At 7:30 am, the telephone rang as it did everyone morning, it was Chris making sure the children and I had awoken to get ready for the school day.  Our conversation was brief all the children hopped into bed with me that morning and did not want to get up.

After I got the children off to school, I set out to do my daily ritual, I went to the gym.  Chris usually called me everyday at 11:30 on the dot, not a minute sooner or a minute later.  That morning I could not get myself to leave the gym at 11:15, I started up the stairs in the gym and proceeded to speak to the girls in the gym.  They all thought it strange that I was still there.  I told them I did not know what was wrong with me I couldn't move.  After finally getting up from the bench in the locker room at 11:30, I left the gym.   I preceded to finish up some Christmas shopping, mainly decorative things, and went to my local area shopping center.  I never turned the radio on, my cell phone was shut off.  And just drove around for a long while, then about 12 noon I went to AC Moore, The Rag Shop, The Dollar Store, I must have went into each place three times, only to walk out with Christmas decorating ribbon.  I had a strange feeling the whole time but could not place what I felt.  Little did I know that the call I would receive at 11:30 that day would never come.  My husband was killed on the NJ Turnpike. approximate time of death 11:15, the same time I could not lift myself off the bench in the gym and move. 

When I finally arrived home that afternoon at 1:00, I was welcomed in my court by three Trooper cruisers .  Four Troopers standing at Attention, and my frantic father and girlfriend.  I will never forget that God awful feeling I felt when it finally sunk in,  I kept saying they were lying to me, Chris would never leave without saying goodbye or calling me, they told me they were sorry there was nothing anyone could do, the Tanker Truck laid on his body for an hour.  I remember be so paralyzed I couldn't walk, I tried to run away but someone came and got me.  All I could think about was my poor children, how would I tell them, they were too young to understand, my daughter was 7 at the time and they were only 6.  The next three months of my life went by in a blur only left the house for counseling went shopping at night so I did not have to see anyone, came home cried so many tears that I didn't think I had any left.  The gut awful feeling still remains a part of my life today.

I started the Trooper I Christopher S. Scales Memorial Foundation in 2004, in his honor and memory, he always liked helping and donating to people and so did I. I put everything I had in me to get this Foundation off the ground, we are a Non-Profit 501 3(c) Charity.  Funded by myself and Fundraiser's the foundation has hosted.  Our goal is to aid other Troopers and their families who need financial assistance.  We also reach out to other individuals who need assistance.

Thank you for taking the time to visit our Web site, you will see that with sheer will, determination, and great friends, you can accomplish anything.  This Foundation has helped me get up that hill that I kept sliding down.  My children are ages 13, and 12 now. I have learned to live one day at a time, and to keep shooting for the stars.  They brought me to where I am today.

Thanks Lisa