A young man dies on a winding country road, and the shock of his death reverberates through the small town where he grew up.

It stabs deep into his large family and then reaches all kinds of people throughout town, from the boys he once played T-ball with and the girl who gave him his first kiss, to the retired principal and the police chief who's worked in town longer than the young man's lifetime.

At 18, Joseph T. Conlon III was fresh off the graduation stage at Scituate High School and thinking about what he wanted to do with his life. He had a car. He had a girl. He had a large family and many friends.

"There was so much more he wanted to do, so much more he wanted to say, so much more to live," said his father, Joseph T. Conlon Jr. He stood by the blackened rock dam where his son died, and he wiped his tears with the edge of his T-shirt.

In Sunday's wee hours, Joseph was driving far too fast on narrow, tree-lined Route 116, the police say, and when the road veered gently in one direction, his car kept going straight.

His sedan shot nose-first into the boulders damming swampy Betty Pond and then spun around. A few minutes later, a friend drove by and recognized the crushed car.

Rescue was called first. And then, word spread at the speed of a text message that Joe Conlon was dead.

Dozens of teenagers showed up at the scene that night and into the day. Some dug out the debris from the young man's car and assembled some of the pieces onto the rocks by the candles. Someone set his framed prom picture against a rock and laid a black rosary over it. They found the cracked Nissan emblem from his car, and they placed it on the brim of Joseph's black baseball cap, with the letters NB for "nosebleed," his nickname for being so tall.

At 6-foot-7, Joseph was his friends' gentle giant, a boy remembered for his kindness, and he was especially protective of anyone who was being picked on by others. Joseph had his own struggles, and his graduation this June was a hard-won moment that made his family proud, said his stepbrother, Ron Kandzerski.

Joseph's father and mother, Rhonda Nightingale, had split long ago and remarried, but they settled just a mile apart in town. The three brothers and three sisters in both families stayed close, Conlon said. The youngest brother called Joseph "Too Small Joe." His 81-year-old grandfather, the original Joseph Conlon, was the boy's close companion.

When Joseph wanted a car, older brother Nick Charron gave him his old 1993 Nissan Altima, Conlon said. Kandzerski showed him how to work on it and customize the car. Joseph installed speakers, added chrome wheel covers, and tricked out the lights, his father said. "He loved that stupid car," Conlon said, his voice hoarse.

Some friends said that Joseph had been at a local house party with his girlfriend late Saturday night and early Sunday. Something happened, and Joseph drove off alone.

The police are still piecing together the moments before the crash, said Police Chief David Randall. They know he was traveling fast, Randall said, but the investigators are trying to determine why he didn't slow down before the curve.

In an instant, Joseph was gone. The place where he died is marked by melted candles, the odor of automobile oil and a large wooden cross signed with "I love yous" from friends and relatives.

"It's a tough thing. I still don't believe it," said 17-year-old Chris Panarello, who said he has known Joseph since they played T-ball together. "I still believe he's going to walk out here."

Family, friends and neighbors gathered Sunday evening for an impromptu candlelight vigil at the crash scene. On Thursday, a funeral will be held at 11 a.m. at Trinity Episcopal Church, on Danielson Pike; calling hours will be from 4 to 8 p.m. Wednesday at Winfield & Son's Funeral Home.

At Sunday's vigil, there were so many people filling the clearing by the pond that the police arrived to handle traffic.

"The town is in mourning," Randall said. "It's bad enough when you lose anybody, and bad enough when you lose somebody young. This is someone who was from town - the whole town's upset about it."

Six years ago, another teenager died in a crash not far from this corner. Chris Panarello's twin brother Nick, a senior, said he remembered how the death of 18-year-old Margaret Cook affected the high school students.

"It's a big thing in Scituate," he said.

On Monday, even townspeople who didn't know Joseph stopped to pay their respects. A truck driver stood in silence. A young man in a McDonald's cap knelt and prayed.

Friends came by to relight the candles. Talking about Joseph brought them some comfort, said Panarello.

But for Joseph's family, the sight of all those people who loved him was also painful.

"He had all that in his life," Kandzerski said.