Move to No BAC:  Zero Tolerance For DUI

DUI Poems

Calling All Angels

Gary Selby, Jr., was just eighteen—muscular, strong, and tall,
With big brown eyes and dark brown hair, but his smile was best of all.
Some people called him a gentle giant, with laughter, charm and wit.
People always greeted him everywhere he went.
He loved his younger brother. They used to wrestle and fight.
He loved to help his mother, and he was her delight.
Gary raced in motor cross, played Pop Warner football, too.
He was an avid Raiders fan, athletic through and through.
Gary had a host of friends, a passion for life and fun.
You could hear the beat of his great big heart...And his song had just begun.

Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Who’ve loved him long and well.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Hear the tolling bell.

One bright October day, when the sky was clear and blue.
In Vacaville, California, there were family things to do.
Gary and his family attended a football game.
His mom worked the concession booth. Some of Gary’s friends were there.
Before he left on his trip, he shook his brother’s hand,
Picked up his mom and kissed her and hugged dad man-to-man.
“Please be careful,” said his mom, “I wish you’d change your plans.”
But Gary assured her he’d be all right, as she kissed him once again.
He said good-bye to each of them on that fateful day.
Their eyes were on him all the while as he turned and walked away.
“Good-bye, my dearest family; Good-bye, little brother,
Good-bye to you, my wonderful dad; Good-bye, my precious mother.”

Calling all angels, Calling all angels.
The Selby’s will need you soon.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels,

Beneath the autumn moon.

Gary and his friends drove to Reno, Nevada, about three hours away,
They watched a BMX bike race, hung out and enjoyed the day.
By morning he was taking two girls to their homes,
The sun had not yet risen and all the streetlights shone.
They were in Troy’s Pontiac, traveling Highway 80 West that day.
Unknown to them a Renegade Ford was heading right their way.
The Ford was going the wrong way and traveling very fast.
It almost hit a tanker truck filled with poisonous gas.
Cars ahead were swerving; Gary’s friends in their truck did, too.
But Gary, just behind them, had no place to get through.

Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Please hover near.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
The final moment is here.

Headlights upon them, Eyes filled with fear,
A head-on collision, No time to veer.
The crunching of the metal, Cars slid and spun.
Smoke in the chilled air, The deed was now done.
A dreadful silence, Not even a cry.
Were they still living? Did anyone die?
Soon sirens sounded. There was help on the way.
Paramedics searched the cars, wrote what they had to say.
They found Gary in his seat, just behind the wheel.
They checked him for any sign of life as he sat bleeding, unconscious, and still.

Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Come and hold him close.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
You who loved him most.

At five o'clock they pronounced him dead and cut him from the car.
They then removed the injured. The hospital wasn’t far.
The other driver was wedged in. He could not move at all.
And around him hung an odor, the strong smell of alcohol.
He had been drinking and driving and this was no accident.
He’d made a choice; he’d taken a life. His crime was evident.
Everyone survived but Gary, the Selby’s much-loved son.
He was taken to the coroner where an autopsy was done.
He died from blunt force trauma. “He went quickly”, the coroner said.
A teen with so much left to give, with most of his life ahead.

Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Soon they will hear the news.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
You have no time to lose.

The funeral was on a Thursday in Gary’s small hometown.
Where everyone was grieving beside the fresh mound.
The grounds keeper at the cemetery saw his mother visit each day.
She said, “There’s a hole in my stomach and in my heart that will not go away.
Our family is forever torn apart. We will never be the same.”
And she wept for him a mother’s tears and softly spoke his name.
There is no poem adequate to describe their despair.
How much they missed their firstborn son. How they longed to have him there.
His dad had planned to race with him. Now the dream had died.
He thought about the brand new bike his son would never ride.

Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Come and ever stay.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Come dry the tears away.

The drunk driver, when out of the hospital, was charged with DUI.
Several counts, involuntary manslaughter, for he’d caused a man to die.
His trial was set but he made a plea, “Guilty,” he said to the court.
As he faced his sentencing, it was agreed, there would be no bail to report.
Gary’s family had been working to see that justice was done.
The driver was sentenced to forty years. Gary’s cause had won!
“We’re happy our efforts have paid off ’though we’ve been torn apart.
It’s finished in the courtroom but never in our hearts.”
“I didn’t want a life for my son’s life,” said Gary’s dad in his pain,
“I wanted this man to never harm another soul again.”

Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Stay close and hold them up.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Tell them to never give up.

The drunk driver served less than a year, then escaped and disappeared.
He hasn’t been found to this very day, and THIS is the NINTH year!
Gary’s Auntie Holly has kept up the fight to see justice done.
She’s Calling all angels, Calling all angels, Until this fight is won.
It was a senseless murder. It was a preventable crime.
If that driver had been responsible, Gary would not have died.
Someone sober should have been at the wheel.
No one ever has a right to drink, drive, and kill.
Help us get the word out. THERE’S A CRIMINAL AT LARGE!
Come join in the battle. Help us lead the charge.

Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Calling you all to join in.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels,
Let’s see that justice wins.

This man is a fugitive, and he must be found.
We want him on Most Wanted. He should be in prison now.
Calling all angels, Calling all angels, Do all that you can do.
Just remember Gary, AND BE AN ANGEL, TOO.

In memory of Gary Ray Selby, Jr. (18)
(March 9, 1974 – October 4, 1992)
Selby Memorial Page (

© Alcohol Free Kids, 2001-2002. All rights reserved. Questions about the use of this poem should be directed to Holly Bayol, Gary’s aunt [e-mail: pepper1998(at)].

Visit the web site of Gary's Aunt Holly to learn how you can advance Holly’s campaign to re-capture the driver who took Gary’s life.

Please do not copy a poem without first receiving permission from the poem’s author. Then, be sure to add the author’s name, copyright date, and a link to or the author’s e-mail address or web site to your copy of the poem.

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