Janet Carroll believes things happen for a reason.
Relying on her faith in God, she holds to this view even though some things are terribly painful, and the reasons for them can be nearly impossible to grasp.
That’s how Carroll, a longtime Santa Barbara resident, has coped with the tragic death last year of her roommate, 26-year-old Allison Meadows.
“Allison is, was and always will be an important part of my life,” Carroll said. “We both believed that God had crossed our paths because we needed each other during that period of our lives. And it’s true.”
Meadows was killed June 6, 2012, in a “car-surfing” incident on East Valley Road in Montecito that also left her friend, Lindsay Keebler, seriously injured.
Lanie Tyrone Richardson, 29, of Santa Barbara, the man behind the wheel that fateful morning, has pleaded no contest to voluntary manslaughter in the case, and is facing 14 years in prison after he is sentenced early next year.
Despite the pain of her loss, Carroll felt compelled to attend nearly every one of Richardson’s court hearings.
“I wanted to be there for Allison’s mom, and for Allison,” she told Noozhawk. “I wanted to be there for her friends.”
The bond between the two women, a generation apart in age, began in late 2011.
Carroll, 50, met Allison through an older son who lives in a house adjacent to her cozy home on Santa Barbara’s Eastside.
They got acquainted when Carroll, Meadows and another friend, Danielle Hollander Will, participated together in the Heart + Sole AIDS Walk.
“We hit it off immediately,” Carroll said. “There were just so many things that we had in common, even though her age was in between my two (grown) children.”
By early 2012, Carroll had decided to take in a boarder, and Meadows was in need of a place to live.
They became roommates on Feb. 1, 2012, just four months before the accident.
Although the two were separated in age by many years — and Carroll hadn’t had a roommate for a long time — “Allison and I, we had zero problem, which just amazed me,” Carroll recalled.
They settled into a pleasant routine at home, enjoying each other’s company but each pursuing her own interests and friends.
Carroll recalled that Meadows gave her the nickname, Frommy — a blending of friend and mom.
Flash forward to June 5, 2012, a Tuesday night.
Meadows, Keebler and two friends had returned home after going out to dinner at Something’s Fishy on Lower State Street.
“Lindsay and Allison wanted to go back downtown to their favorite hangout and play some pool, because Lindsay loved to play pool, and so did Allison,” Carroll said. “And they knew all the people down there at Whiskey Richards, and so they decided to go down there and (the other two) didn’t want to go.”
Meadows and Keebler told Carroll that they planned to take a taxi to the bar, since both would be drinking.
“The last thing I said to Allison was, ‘I love you,’” she said. “We always said I love you, when someone left the house. We always just said it.
“That’s something I just loved about her. It wasn’t just words; we meant it.”
That was the last time Carroll would speak to Meadows.
The next morning, Carroll awoke to a quiet house and an uneasy feeling.
“I knew something was up,” she said, “because when I got up in the morning, at like 8, the coffee hadn’t been touched.”
Carroll thought maybe the two women were sleeping in, or had decided to stay at Keebler’s apartment.
Her sense of concern was raised when a California Highway Patrol officer rode his motorcycle down her driveway. He stopped and told Carroll he was investigating an accident.
“My first thought was, I don’t remember an accident being around here,” Carroll said. “But then when he said their names, the first thing I said to him was what happened? What’s going on?”
The officer slowly took off his helmet and suggested Carroll sit down.
“I hope I never have to have that feeling again,” she said. “But when he told me to sit down, and watching his body language, it was like the life went out of me, because I didn’t know what he was going to say back.
“And his next response was, they’re both at the emergency room at Cottage Hospital.”
Carroll anxiously waited for the rest of the story.
“And he says Lindsay, they’re working on her, but I’m sorry to tell you that Allison passed,” she recalled. “And I’m like, passed what?
“And I’m like, what, she died? I was in such shock, and I just started shaking.”
The officer explained that the two women had been brought to the ER by two men.
“And he kind of described the condition they were in, and said they found them on the side of the road, and it appears to be a hit and run. And I think I actually said B.S.”
As the investigation unfolded, it was determined that Meadows and Keebler apparently were looking for thrills as they rode on the hood of an SUV while the driver made repeated passes over a rise on East Valley Road east of Sheffield Drive known as “the bump.”
On the final run, at a speed authorities have estimated at 70 mph, the two women were thrown from the vehicle and slammed into the pavement.
CHP investigators eventually determined that Richardson and another passenger, Conner Clowers, 29, were not the “good Samaritans” they originally held themselves out to be.
Richardson, who had a history of driving under the influence and other offenses, eventually was booked into Santa Barbara County Jail on suspicion of second-degree murder and a slew of other serious charges. Clowers was never charged in the case.
In the weeks that followed, Carroll went through a period of intense grief and anger.
She remembers at one time “sobbing uncontrollably in the backyard. I collapsed to the ground like never before.”
Carroll began to question: “What can I do? What’s my purpose in all this?”
Eventually she came to believe that she was meant to be there for Meadows.
“It was the first time in a long time that she felt like she had peace in her life,” Carroll said. “Maybe my whole role in all this was to provide her a home in the last months of her life.”
Sitting in the backyard of her home on a recent sunny morning, her dog Max by her side, Carroll discussed her feelings toward Richardson, who will be sentenced in January.
“I don’t have hate in my heart for Tyrone,” she said. “But I can’t say that I have completely forgiven him for his part in her death.
“His choices that evening, and as the driver of the vehicle, he caused her death. Facts are facts. And the fact is, he allowed them to ride on the outside of the vehicle.
“He chose to drive on a suspended license. He chose to drink, take drugs, and drive that night.
“It was Tyrone’s foot on the gas pedal.”
Carroll also reflected on where this painful odyssey has brought her in her life.
“I have done a lot of soul searching, praying and asking why,” she said. “It has taken me several months to accept that it was God’s will. We are still here to carry on.
“Part of that is keeping Allison’s memory alive. It’s not hard to do, she had such a profound impact on so many people … She always looked for the good in people. She genuinely cared about people.
“She was one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. Perhaps that is part of her legacy, the positive impact she had on so many.”
As Carroll shares her story on a shaded patio adorned with images of butterflies, two finches flit about in a cage.
It’s another example of something Carroll believes was meant to be.
Two days before Richardson entered his no-contest plea, one of the birds showed up — literally — at Carroll’s back door.
The tiny bird seemed determined to enter her home, and ultimately found its way inside. She rescued it from her cat, and bought it a companion and a cage.
She named the bird Alli. Its companion is called Grace.
— Noozhawk executive editor Tom Bolton can be reached at tbolton@noozhawk.com. Follow Noozhawk on Twitter: @noozhawk, @NoozhawkNews and @NoozhawkBiz. Connect with Noozhawk on Facebook.