Caleb's Story

Caleb Christopher Zwiernikowski 

How do you describe someone so unique? He was compassionate, intelligent, quick to laugh, full of energy, responsible, selfless, and passionate. But those words are not descriptive enough. 

He was the kind of person who expected perfection of himself. In his younger years, I would see his eyes fill with tears if a ball got past him when he was goalie for the church soccer team. He was sometimes socially awkward, but in a lovable way. Caleb was home schooled until halfway through his 5th grade year. When introduced to the class on his first day of school, I was told by his teacher that Caleb bowed to the class. He quickly made friends, but he was usually drawn to the other “outsiders” - the girl who moved every few months because of her messed up family, the 6 foot tall 12 year old who didn’t quite fit in, the Atheist, they hyperactive goofball, etc. He was the kind of person that year after year, when the school had to pick someone to “represent them”, it was Caleb, giving guided tours of the school to government officials and being on camera, talking about why his school should be chosen for an award. Caleb would often see someone sitting alone and move his seat to talk to them, so they wouldn’t feel lonely. He was the first to volunteer to help his theatre teacher pick up props or go run errands or stay until midnight to work on lighting. 

Around age 16, he couldn’t understand how, almost overnight, he had many girls that began to like him. He asked me once, “Why do all these girls like me? What do they see in me?” I answered, “Caleb, you look them in the eye when you talk to them. You listen to what they are saying and respond. That’s a huge turn on to a girl.” He wasn’t trying to impress them; it’s just who he was. His dad and I would often get stopped by adults who briefly met Caleb, but they had to share with us how astounded they were by his maturity and communication skills. Every single person that spent more than 5 minutes with Caleb, was deeply impressed by him. 

Caleb was always drawn to science and problem solving. I remember at around age 10, we went through a revolving door. Caleb had to stand there for several minutes to try to explain to me how he thought the “physics of it” worked. You could place Caleb in any situation, such as giving him a tool to use or asking him to figure out why a computer program wasn’t working, and he would sit and figure it out until he had it solved. And loving every minute. At age 14, he began to think he wanted to pursue a career in physics or even… quantum physics. He could go on for an hour explaining quantum physics and loved the idea of the “unknown” side of science. He once wanted to learn computer programming, so he checked out a book from the library about it to read how. 

Caleb’s love for science was so innate. That’s why it shocked his dad and I when the road began to verge. In 10th grade, he took a theatre class, got cast as one of the lead roles in the Spring Musical, and as they say, “the rest was history”. Instead of being interested in engineering colleges, he began wanting to go to college shows and tour liberal arts schools. Theatre became his passion. He not only became one of the leaders in his high school theatre department, but he also became involved in a local children’s theatre community. He once explained to me that when you are part of a theatre family, you have a responsibility, convincing me that he had to go to any theatre friend’s performance, because “that’s what you do”. His love for all things theatre spread through our family. Everyone one of us became huge fans of the Broadway show “Hamilton”; the music became the soundtrack of every road trip. Two of his brothers caught the “theatre bug” and decided to begin being a part of our high school productions. Caleb’s excitement and passion was contagious. It brought him to life and broaden the lives of everyone who loved him. 

But something was changing during this time. Changing inside Caleb’s mind. It was like there was a seed; the seed of a poisonous weed. It sat dormant for probably much longer than any of us realized. I believe stress was the stimulus that watered that seed. Sometime between 8th and 9th grade, that weed began to grow, and it’s tentacles slowing began taking over Caleb’s mind, heart, and soul. During this time, Caleb changed from a geeky, free spirited kid to a young man who constantly worried about expectations and responsibilities. 

In 9th grade, Caleb was accepted into a dual credit program, where he attended college classes on a college campus with other “high achieving” high school students for most of his school day. He was very excited when he began, taking on extra responsibilities, such as being the Freshman Class President, in the program. A few months in, we noticed a change in Caleb. For the first time, he wasn’t keeping up with schoolwork. He began to distance himself socially from previous friendships and hide information from his dad and I regarding his stress level. This would be the first time Caleb would come to us and say, “I think something is wrong with me.” He began to do online research to find a reason for this change he felt growing inside him, thinking it may be ADD or depression. His dad and I would encourage him, telling him that he was just dealing with a lot of changes and facing stress for the first time. We would offer advice on time management and stress relievers. When he would say that his mind would freeze up when needing to write an essay or complete schoolwork, the only thing we knew to say was, “You just have to make yourself do it.” We begged him to quit the college program and go back to “regular high school”. He refused, stating that he would just “work harder”. Later, he would tell us that he didn’t quit because of the expectations he felt from his friends, teachers, and even us; his parents (that we said we wanted him to quit were empty words that rang hollow to him because he was convinced we would be disappointed in him anyway). We gave the best parenting advice we could think of during this time. Unfortunately, we didn’t do any research, or we would have realized that Caleb was expressing classic signs of anxiety and depression. That this issue was much bigger than something he could just “choose to change”. 

The other issue was Caleb was highly intelligent. As his Freshman year turned into his Sophomore year, Caleb became very good at hiding the signs. His grades improved, he got his first girlfriend, and he became involved in theatre. It appeared that he was improving, and I remember thinking that all these changes were hopefully disappearing. But Caleb had just learned to keep his struggles out of view. His counselor would later explain to me how people struggling with anxiety and depression, especially very intelligent people, will work so hard on a daily basis to put up their facade. They don’t allow people to see their true self because they are so ashamed and they don’t want to disappoint the people they love. So, every day, they hold up that facade, while it gets heavier and heavier. He said that you know they are losing the strength to keep up with it when things begin to change, such as not being able to sleep, not getting out of bed in the morning, avoiding physical needs like showering or eating, and forgetting important responsibilities. All these signs were there. Thinking back, I made excuses for the signs and just allowed myself to feel irritated at Caleb, thinking he had more control. I can honestly say that there were signs and even small things he would say to me now and then, that made me wonder, but I don’t think I really wanted to face how bad things were. Always hoping it would just get better. 

In November of 2016, Caleb’s Junior year of high school, we realized that this was all way more serious than we had wanted to believe. We found out that Caleb had been skipping school and at jeopardy of failing classes. We did what we thought was the best solution - got him professional counseling. It seemed to help for awhile. Caleb would come home and share with me the ideas and solutions they would talk about. He seemed optimistic. He made some big decisions that first month and appeared excited about the future. He started school in January and the first week, I could tell a difference with his “trying” to work harder and avoid distractions. But it didn’t last long. And again, I made excuses and got irritated, knowing Caleb could “do better”. 

Caleb made the choice that February 9, 2017, would be his last day here on earth. We would later learn that this was something he had been contemplating for a very long time (though he denied it whenever asked by his counselors) and that he began making more specific plans on how to take his life about a month before. What we don’t know is when the absolute decision was finalized. Two weeks before Caleb took his life, I went with him on a college tour. He talked excitedly about the college and how it was probably now his “top pick”. He did a silly pose in front of the water foundation and said he was going to do the same pose at every college we visited that Spring. So, it wasn’t final then. Three days before, he began rehearsals for the Spring Musical at his high school, texting back and forth with the director (his “second mom”) on ideas and suggestions. Did he know then? 

I can only assume what was going on in his mind that morning of Thursday, February 9th, from my closeness with Caleb and understanding of how his mind worked. I know that he felt like he was constantly making mistakes. I know that he felt like school was beginning to spiral out of control again and he couldn’t bear to face us and our disappointment. I know he that felt like he had let down a lot of people over the past few years, and he was hurt how many former friends acted like they hated him. I know that, even though he dreamed of a future in acting or theatre or teaching theatre, he didn’t really feel like he was good enough. I know that he really wanted to change and he felt like he tried, but nothing ever really got better. I think he was just so tired of holding up that facade, he believed all the lies in his head, and he just couldn’t keep going. 

So, on that morning of February 9th, he waited until everyone was out of the house. He had done his research, and the plan was set. Caleb drove 3 ½ hours across our state of South Carolina to Charleston. He parked his car in a parking lot, left his suicide letter in the front seat, and then walked 2 miles to cross the Arthur J. Ravenel Bridge going into Mt. Pleasant. Near the apex, he placed his phone, wallet, and keys down on the sidewalk. Eye witnesses say he was so fast when running, then jumping over the side. He didn’t stand there and contemplate his decision; it was already made. He dropped approx. 170 feet into the cold waters of the Ashley River. The 2:00 traffic on the bridge, whether it be the cars speeding by or the foot / bike traffic on the sidewalk, didn’t have a chance to respond before they realized what just happened. 

He left a note on the front screen of his phone that gave his name, where to find his car, and an apology. It was an apology on his phone to whomever just “saw what happened”. He left a suicide note in his car that was void of emotion, as if he had already shut that part of his brain off in order to not have to face the consequences of what he was about to do. He left text messages to a few friends; a heart to some and a sentence of apology to one person who he knew he had hurt in the past. He left no goodbye but just a shocked state to many friends, the best friend he was supposed to take to the prom, and his theatre director / second mom who had no idea he was even struggling. He left his side of the bedroom that he shared with his brother messy; a room that now his brother will sleep in alone for the first time in his life. He left two more younger brothers a reason to have to mature much sooner than they should have. He left a mom and dad who will doubt every day of the rest of their lives what they could have done differently and how they could have saved him. He left an emptiness, a heavy emptiness, inside each person who knew and loved him. 

Caleb was unique. His dad will tell you that “Caleb was just too much for this world”. Even though he is my child, there was really something extremely special about him. He has left such a huge impression on so many people. His life will forever touch those that knew him and continues to touch even people who did not know him. His love and light will burn on forever. 

WE LOVE YOU CALEB!