For his burial, his brother gave him a gold chain. His father gave him a diamond ring. His mom contributed the teddy bear that played music in the crib when he was a baby.
When she looks through class pictures given to him by friends, Laura Hunter thinks about the wasted potential. "He touched a lot of kids. The notes say, 'Thanks for helping me out that night,' or, 'Thanks for listening, even if it was 2 a.m.'"
His younger brother, Nathan, still suffers, she said. "They were real close. It's been a bad three years for him. He's struggled with school. I don't think the school system understands."
Nathan just made it through his 16th year, longer than his brother ever lived. It was a kind of milestone, Laura said. "He just turned 17, and boy, that was tough. We about smother that kid, and he's very protective toward me."
She's adamant about the need for ATV restrictions. "It would help if they couldn't be ridden anywhere except where they should be, not on residential streets or highways, and always with helmets and protective gear.
"ATVs are motorized vehicles and pretty powerful. There needs to be age limits, and parents and owners of these things need to be accountable. So do the companies that sell them."
Reading about deaths of other children on ATVs makes her angry, she said. "In West Virginia alone, I don't know how many deaths I've read about since Robby. You already feel angry, alone, guilty and confused. Now you have to deal with the fact that the very vehicle that killed your child ... is killing other people's children, brothers, sisters, cousins, friends — and no one seems to care. No one seems to do anything to stop it.
"Children are dying on these vehicles. They think they are invincible. They have no fear. They are children, and we need to take care of them."
To contact staff writer Sandy Wells, use e-mail or call 348-5173.