Friends remember life of slain social worker

Friends and family attended a memorial service Saturday at Trinity Episcopal Church for a social worker described as thoughtful and noted for her work with foster children.

Heather D. Coulter, 24, Lawrence, died Monday, Sept. 24, 2002, from injuries suffered in a car-pedestrian accident on Sept. 18. Coulter’s parents, Richard and Mary Ruth Coulter, and dozens of mourners silently entered the church for the service.

Those who shared their memories of Coulter painted a picture of a selfless woman who would do anything for those she cared about, especially the children she worked with at The Farm Inc., a foster-care service.

“People meant everything to her,” said Paige Worthy, a Kansas University sophomore who knew Coulter through a mutual friend.

Coulter was devoted to the children with whom she worked, Worthy said, and she would do things “normal people just wouldn’t think to do,” such as make cookies for her friends near final exam time.

“I didn’t know her as well as I wanted to know her,” said Worthy, from Prairie Village.

During the service, the Rev. Raymond Hartjen Jr. described Coulter, who graduated from St. Mary College in Leavenworth and volunteered at Headquarters Counseling Center, as a person with a can-do attitude who made good choices in her life.

Her death was a result of poor choices made by others, Hartjen said.

Ashleigh N. Juola, 17, Lawrence, has been charged as a juvenile with involuntary manslaughter and as an adult with driving under the influence of alcohol in the accident that led to Coulter’s death.

Juola is accused of hitting Coulter with her car the night of Sept. 18 as Coulter stood beside her stalled vehicle at 19th and Iowa streets, police said. Coulter was taken to KU Med in Kansas City, Kan., where she died several days later.

A hearing has been set for Nov. 15 to determine if Juola, currently under house arrest, should also be tried as an adult on the manslaughter charge.But hearings and legal battles did not appear to be on the minds of mourners, who shared tears and memories over a potluck lunch.

As he read an essay on life and death that his daughter wrote after Sept. 11, Richard Coulter choked on several words.

“I am not sure what more I could do in my life right now than to live my life fully,” he said, quoting his daughter as she wrote about how she would spend her life if death were imminent.

“The biggest part of me knows that I would probably keep things the same as they are now.”