Mother in crash fled memories

Nina Nelson, the woman injured in an auto accident in Eastern Montana that killed two of her children and critically injured a third, had fled Spokane to cope with traumatic personal memories stemming from Sept. 11, 2001, her husband said Wednesday.

Thomas Nelson said that his wife told him from her hospital bed that she had been ready to come back to Spokane after driving nearly 800 miles Monday when she fell asleep at the wheel. The family’s van careened off the freeway and was hit by a train near Wibaux, Mont., along the North Dakota state line.

She left because “she just needed to get away,” said Nelson, who had reported his family missing Monday night. “She just needed some time on that day.”

In a groggy interview with Montana Highway Patrol investigators, the 33-year-old said that she left Spokane about 11:50 a.m. and stopped at a Wal-Mart to buy toys for the trip, said Capt. Joe Dow. There was no luggage – just a diaper bag – in the van, Dow said.

The 1995 Mercury minivan was hit by a train hauling 114 loads of coal early Tuesday, officials said. The van traveled about 670 feet before it was hit on the right side, which was where the two now-deceased children were seated.

According to BNSF Railway spokesman Gus Melonas, the train and the van were both eastbound when the van veered off Interstate 94, over a road shoulder, through a right-of-way fence and onto a railroad access road before ending up on the tracks.

One-year-old Finnerty Nelson and his 5-year-old sister, Lianne, died at the scene.

Conor Nelson, 3, remained in critical condition Wednesday at a children’s hospital in St. Paul, Minn. Nina Nelson was in fair condition at a North Dakota hospital, officials said.

The 32-year-old grieving father was in St. Paul, Minn., on Wednesday by his son’s side.

He said Conor suffered a neck fracture, a broken arm and a broken leg but was conscious.

“He didn’t really say anything when he saw me,” Nelson said. “But he smiled.”

As Thomas Nelson tended to his son, he explained why Sept. 11 is a difficult day for his wife.

Sept. 11, 2001, was the first time he and his wife were able to see their daughter, Lianne, who had been born a day earlier – three months premature – and had a low chance of survival.

“That same morning we learned about the terrorist attacks,” he said. “That day sucked for pretty much the whole United States.”

Thomas Nelson didn’t know why his wife was gone on Monday when he called police that evening and reported his family missing. When they last talked, she was leaving their South Hill home to run errands, and he was headed to work.

Conor, the 3-year-old surviving son, who has a form of autism, was due for a weekly physical therapy appointment, said Nelson, who later learned that the appointment wasn’t kept.

Lianne and Conor attended the preschool program at Lincoln Heights Elementary School. Principal Mike McGinnis said the staff has been devastated by the loss.

“Our hope is that Conor gets better and comes back to us, but it sounds like he might have a long road to recovery,” McGinnis said. “This is kind of a tragic start to the school year, but we’ll get through it.”

Nina and Thomas Nelson both were born in Spokane.

Thomas Nelson went to live with his grandparents in California while he was growing up but returned to the Inland Northwest when he was 19 years old, he said.

Nina Nelson graduated from Saint George’s School in 1991, school officials said.

Court documents show she was convicted of a 1997 arson after she started a fire at her father’s Spokane home. Her defense lawyers attempted to use an insanity defense, but Nelson was found competent after being examined by a doctor from Eastern State Hospital. She was sentenced to 14 months in prison.

The Nelsons married in the late 1990s in Coeur d’Alene, and he took his wife’s last name, Thomas Nelson said.

Nelson was beside himself about the loss of his two children as he talked about his life with Nina Nelson.

“I wish I hadn’t taken life for granted so much,” he said. “I never thought anything like this could happen.

“It’s not the enormity of this, it’s the little things,” the father said. “I won’t get to see what they could have been.”