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One family hopes their tragic loss can help save others

  • Published
  • By Capt. Amy Sufak
  • 21st Space Wing Public Affairs
With a knock on his door late one evening, 1st Lt. Kevin Lombardo's entire life changed.

"One of my sergeants stood outside my trailer door clutching a note. My heart skipped a beat. He said I needed to call home now, something was wrong," the lieutenant said. "When I heard the sound of my wife Billie's voice, I knew it was serious."

While deployed to Iraq, Lieutenant Lombardo, an operations officer for the 21st Security Forces Squadron, learned his 3-year-old twins, a boy and a girl, were being rushed to the hospital after climbing into a kitchen cabinet, prying open a child-resistant prescription bottle and swallowing heart medicine.

"Knowing the twins were in comas and I still had a two-day journey home was the hardest thing for me," he said. "I couldn't be there for my family."

It was a difficult task to get home from Baghdad. The lieutenant and his fellow Airmen loaded a Humvee with weapons to safeguard against roadside threats; they traveled the dangerous route in the war-torn country to board a 2 a.m. jet. It took five connecting flights and 36 hours before the anxious lieutenant finally stepped foot in America.

He arrived 16 minutes after his little girl had died.

"No one ever expects something like this will ever happen to them," Lieutenant Lombardo said. "It just didn't seem real when I was told she was gone."

Dec. 27 had been a typical day at the Lombardos' home. Just two days after Christmas, all four children were in and out of their rooms, watching television and playing with new toys.

Mrs. Lombardo walked into the kitchen and her daughter Chloe told her, "Mommy I sick." The mother of four glanced at the clock -- 12:30 p.m., time for lunch. With one of her toddler twins resting on the bed in a nearby bedroom and Chloe sitting quietly at the kitchen table, she began making sandwiches. Chloe suddenly passed out at the table.

Lexie, the Lombardos' 10-year-old daughter, called 911. Chloe went into convulsions. Mrs. Lombardo found a half-spilled bottle of medicine and knew then that her other toddler who had been resting on the bed was lethargic from also swallowing medicine. The terrified mother waited desperately for help to arrive. Firefighters and an ambulance arrived within minutes and transported the twins separately to the hospital. Friends quickly arrived to stay behind with Lexie and her 7-year-old sister, Lidia.

In the hospital, Chloe's tiny body could no longer fight the poisonous medicine. What little strength she had left seemed to transfer to her twin brother who miraculously survived the accident.

At 12:29 p.m. Dec. 29, Chloe Bella died.

The hospital nurses let her mother and grandmother give her a bath and wash the long chestnut curls of her hair. The other children got to hold her hand. For the next 14 hours extended family arrived to grieve their loss.

"When I finally saw her she looked like a perfect angel," Lieutenant Lombardo said.

The day before the memorial service in their Cleveland hometown, the family viewed her tiny body in the coffin. Peering into her open casket her twin brother said, "Coco's sleeping."

The priest who a few years earlier baptized the twins, presided over Chloe's funeral.

The family also held a memorial service at the Peterson chapel. The responding fire and rescue crews came as well as Chloe's nurses from the hospital. The nurses gave Lieutenant Lombardo a handmade paper box that contained a perfect replica of his daughter's hand they had made from a plaster mold while preparing Chloe's body for burial.

The Lombardos shared their story to help others avoid the heartbreaking loss they experienced.

"This happens every day in America," Lieutenant Lombardo said. "They tell you to keep medicine out of reach of your children, but, really, it needs to be locked up. Now, my son has to grow up without his best friend, his twin sister."

According to the American Association of Poison Control, poison centers handle an average of one poison exposure every 14 seconds, totaling more than 2 million exposures in the United States annually.

The association reports that most poisonings involve everyday household items such as medicine, cleaning supplies, cosmetics and personal care items.

Mrs. Lombardo has found strength in sharing her message of securing household poisons. Standing in front of a locked wall cabinet filled with all of their household cleaners and medicine she said, "I tell people I don't even know they need to lock up their medicine. Kids are curious.

"Through the story of her death, Chloe is saving the lives of other children," she said.