By Doug Forbes

It was a beautiful day. It was a soulful day. It was a joyful day. And it was a devastatingly sad day. It was our Rally for Roxie.

This was the day that Elena and I publicly memorialized our beloved 6-year-old Roxie Mirabelle Forbes—our love, our light, our “sweet pie.” Roxie died from a preventable drowning at Summerkids camp in Altadena on June 28, 2019. That was the day we drowned with her.

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Some drownings do not prove fatal. Ours was a near emotional and psychological drowning from which we have survived and from which we will effectuate change so that no parent, no family, no community has to endure what we now endure.

Elena and I held our first board meeting the night before the rally. Nine of us sat about our table to determine a way forward so that parents and guardians and communities and even children themselves eventually have an end-to-end water safety solution—not just swimming lessons, not just protective equipment, not just educational tools, not just legislative resources, but all of it in one fully integrated model that will save lives for generations to come. And all of it will be crafted in Roxie’s honor. Go get ‘em, Rox!

Our board is brilliant, passionate, individualistic and realistic. Elena and I are are honored to have their leadership, vision and love. They are already making a difference.

On rally day, we arose at the crack of dawn. What a beautiful dawn it was. Powder blue sky. Crisp fall air. The smell of coffee and Night-Blooming Jasmine. Friends mulling about our house, readying themselves for the event-to-be. The only thing missing was a 44” blondie with a smile that would melt any and all hearts.

We packed the remaining gear into our vans and cars and arrived at Pasadena’s San Rafael Park for setup. Elena and I were greeted by volunteer after volunteer, each with a smile, a warm hug, some with teary eyes, but all with a disposition that reassured us “every little thing was gonna be alright” (Marley). Even if it wasn’t alright at one moment or another or another.

Posters were hung about. Balloons bobbed high above. Display tables were plotted. PA equipment staged. Food concessions were quickly at the ready. Bundles of toys, balls, plastic-fantastic fly-planes waited for attention. And before you know it, the community transformed a park into a wholly magical playland.

After the majority of setup was settled, Elena and I snuck back to our house with a small group who would help us gather our nerves, breathe deep, pop a little champagne and prepare for the inevitable twists and turns we would soon face.

Then off we went, a short walk to San Rafael Elementary where we would approach a growing wave of disquieted faces and sorrowful embraces with those whom we have not seen since that fateful day a few months before. This was real. This was our new life.

Roxie’s champion cheerleader principal Rudy Ramirez offered his usual bounty of beautiful energy, but he was also stifled at times by a growing sense of loss that he finally admitted to repressing as all of us gathered before him and around him. You are loved to the moon and back, Rudy.

Elena and I offered up a letter to him. It was written as if Roxie were still alive, standing beside him, looking up in admiration but also tugging at him with her own trademark sneaky smiles that he knew all too well and described off the cuff with aplomb.

Rudy read the entire letter aloud. He also offered some profoundly poignant sentiments of his own.

Elena and I spoke about how the greater Pasadena community’s support got us out of bed and out of our own tormented way, day in and day out. We promised that the event would not be anchored in the angst of our child’s preventable death. We wanted families and children to honor Roxie by finding their way toward some sort of fun, however they could manifest such a thing. After all, though this was a memorial of sorts, it was also a celebration of a little girl who lived to love, shine, share and show us adults how to shed the protective shields that we too often yield from the shadows of our own inescapable, inevitable insecurities.

The glorious Fabienne—Roxie’s music teacher at Pacific Oaks Children’s School—led the crowd on its way from the school through the neighborhood to the park. The beat of various earthy percussion instruments set tempos by which we sang Roxie’s faves: from Bob Marley to the Beatles and a host of children’s classics in between. To this day, the hum of the earth along that 15-minute march still echoes in my bones.

All videos courtesy of Malinda Miller

The rest, quite frankly was a blur. Mayor Terry Tornek graciously made an eloquent opening speech about our responsibility as citizen advocates. Elena and I addressed the gathering crowd about how we adults must hold ourselves accountable, regardless of the circumstances. We did not drown Roxie. But we did chose to send her to the perennially popular Summerkids camp where chaos ruled the pool that day in June, but also where those in charge had long since abandoned their duty to keep children safe under any and all circumstances. We did not ask enough questions, or perhaps we did not ask the right ones. Elena did her very best. But I don’t feel I did mine. And I will never live that down.

We also asked attendees to read a poem in unison. I wrote “Without and With” during a particularly dark day, when I realized the gravity of how, though Roxie will always be “with” us, she will no longer be among us. Elena also inspired this poem, She is truly the best partner one could ever ask for, “with” her boundless compassion, her unconditional giving and her inimitable care of Roxie. It was a sight to behold. She and Roxie were a masterpiece to behold.

Assemblymember Chris Holden also spoke. His great heart matches his great height. He and Senator Anthony Portantino will be on a wild ride with us as we change legislation to ensure California day camps require licenses to operate in a definitively safe and sound manner. Mr. Holden also expressed interest in joining our board as an honorary member who can bring change in any number of ways within and beyond the district he serves.

When all remarks were done, children were left to bounce around in mini bubble pools, follow the rhythmic sway of delightful Polynesian dancers, paint rocks as an homage to Roxie—rocks that will be placed throughout the San Rafael Elementary School playground—and leave spirited sidewalk chalk messages for their lost friend.

Roxie is gone from this earth. Make no mistake, Elena and I are in pieces. In fact, we are in nearly unbearable pain. But every day, we promise to pick up a few of those pieces, stitch them together somehow and put as much of ourselves back into place as we can in order to honor our community as they honored us on October 12, 2019. We will not let you down. We cannot let you and your children down. It is the very least that can be done.

Love, Doug and Elena

Photos courtesy of Shirley Huang/Pasadena Now

Photos courtesy of Gregory Burns