Three teenagers climbed into a green Hyundai around 5 p.m. Wednesday. They started down Street Road, a dusty, dirt path between here and heartache.

A few minutes later, the car went off the road, hit a tree and came to rest on the opposite shoulder. State Police said speed and driver inexperience may have been factors.

The teenager behind the wheel, 19-year-old Edmund Moore Jr., suffered minor injuries and was released from Albany Medical Center Hospital on Thursday. The girl in the passenger seat, 18-year-old Ashlee Overbaugh, remained in stable condition at Albany Med.

Their friend, 16-year-old Ryan Slingerland, was in the back seat. He was from Knox. He was not wearing a seatbelt. He was pronounced dead on the scene.

His friends and family gathered at the crash site Thursday afternoon. They carved RIP into a tree the car had slammed into. They piled broken car parts in the spot where the Hyundai came to rest. They laid flowers on the broken parts. They gathered at Ryan's favorite park in the evening. They hugged. They cried. They released balloons into the sky.

And they remembered Ryan like this:

He was the youngest of six children. He was born more than a month premature and weighed only four pounds. He grew up to be bigger than all his siblings.

His relatives had called him Ry-guy since birth.

When he was 2, his parents dressed him in black slacks and a white dress shirt for Thanksgiving. He sat on a stool that afternoon with his feet crossed and leaned against a wall. He told his Aunt Doreen Santa Claus was going to come that night and bring him presents.

He gave good piggyback rides and hugs. He would run up to friends and put his arm around their shoulders. Then he would start to skip.

He was called chipmunk by his friends because he had chubby cheeks.

He liked rap music. Especially Lil Wayne.

He loved hanging out with friends in the park in Altamont. His favorite bench was in the shade near a stone wall.

He had been trying to do backflips for years. He would always under-rotate and land on his stomach. He never once got hurt. He landed on his feet for the first time a few days ago. Then he went to his favorite bench in the park and did a backflip off of it to show his friends.

He was a junior at Berne-Knox-Westerlo High School. He didn't like doing homework or studying. But when motivated try in school, he almost always got the answers right.

He liked playing video games rated M for mature. One of his favorites was Ninja Gaiden.

He made friends laugh by running around with his pants pulled down below his knees. He had white, hairy legs.

He talked to a friend on instant messenger less than an hour before he died. He called her Little Angel.

He would have turned 17 on Oct. 20.

He smelled good. No one knows if he used cologne or an especially fragrant soap. They think it may have been natural.

He would sneak up to friends and poke them in the cheek. Then, when they looked at him and pointed back, he would lick their finger.


He liked playing a game called woodchip tag near the playground. It was like regular tag, except you couldn't step in the woodchips surrounding the swings and slide or you were out.
He liked to draw and play football.

He recently jumped off a playground slide and ripped his pants. Then he did it again to show his friends how it happened. His pants ripped more.

His friend Autumn Waterhouse started talking in a funny voice when they were hanging out a few days ago. No one laughed except Ryan.

He asked his friend Joshua Cameron to buy him a piece of pizza last week. Joshua bought him two slices of pepperoni. That was the last time they were together.

He died on his father Michael's 46th birthday.

Earlier this week in school, he bet a group of friends he could jump onto a 4-foot high table in the technology room. They said no way. He did it. They never saw him again.

He was about to ask a pretty, brown-haired girl named Danielle Padula to be his girlfriend. He told friends so. She was going to say yes.

He fell asleep on the couch at home Monday night. His dad woke him up and led him into bed. They spoke for the last time that night. Dad said I love you. Ryan said it back.

David Filkins can be reached at 454-5456.



Calling hours

Calling hours are 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Monday at the Fredendall Funeral Home, 199 Main St., Altamont.