07/02/2026
One year. One whole entire year.
Three hundred and sixty five days.
An entire year has passed, and somehow it still feels like yesterday.
There are moments in life that divide your world into “before” and “after.” July 2, 2025, is that day for us. Before that morning, DJ was here. He was laughing, working, making plans, living his life like any other 24-year-old. After that morning, nothing has ever been the same.
At 11:54 AM, my phone lit up with a notification that a tow truck driver had been hit on the side of I-287. I can still remember exactly where I was. I remember the feeling in the pit of my stomach before I even knew who it was. I immediately started texting my family. Everyone started calling each other. We were all trying to figure out what had happened. Then came the silence that none of us will ever forget. No one could get ahold of DJ.
That silence became every family’s worst nightmare.
At 11:35 AM that morning, DJ was doing exactly what he loved to do. He was helping someone. He was out on the side of the road doing his job, a job that so many people take for granted until they need help themselves. His emergency lights were activated. He was in his safety vest. He was following the law. HE WAS IN THE SHOULDER. He was doing everything right.
Yet someone failed to do the one thing they were required to do.
Move over.
Slow down.
Pay attention.
Instead, in a matter of seconds, a young man with his entire life ahead of him was violently struck on the side of Interstate 287.
We all rushed to Morristown Medical Center, refusing to believe what we were hearing. We waited. We cried. We prayed harder than we have ever prayed before. We searched through every piece of footage we could find, desperately trying to understand how something so horrific could happen. We begged for a miracle. We held onto hope with everything we had because giving up on DJ was never an option.
Then, at 6:09 PM, our hearts were shattered forever.
DJ was pronounced dead.
Twenty-four years old.
Twenty-four.
How is it possible that someone so full of life, so hardworking, so kind, so selfless, could simply be gone?
There are no words that truly describe what that moment felt like. It felt like the world stopped spinning. Like the air had been ripped out of our lungs. Like time froze while everyone else somehow kept moving. A family lost a son. Siblings lost a brother. Friends lost someone they considered family. Coworkers lost one of their own. The towing community lost one of the best.
And all because someone didn’t move over.
This wasn’t just a tragedy.
This wasn’t just another headline.
This wasn’t “an accident.”
This was preventable.
Every single day for the past year, we’ve lived with the reality that DJ isn’t coming home. His truck is still. His voice is silent. His chair is empty. His laughter is gone. Every birthday, every holiday, every family gathering, every milestone has had one person missing. The pain doesn’t disappear after a year. It doesn’t get easier. You simply learn how to carry a heartbreak that never goes away.
People often ask how we keep going.
The answer is simple.
Because we have to.
Because DJ deserves better.
Because no other family should ever have to receive the phone call that changed our lives forever.
This past year has not only been filled with grief, it has been filled with purpose. We have stood before legislators. We have shared DJ’s story over and over again, even when it hurts to relive every detail. We have advocated for stronger Slow Down Move Over laws. We have fought for safer roads. We have fought for every tow truck operator, police officer, firefighter, EMT, utility worker, DOT employee, and every single person who works inches away from traffic.
And we are not done.
We will never stop fighting for DJ.
We will never stop fighting for stricter laws.
We will never stop fighting to make our roads safer.
We will never stop telling people his story.
We will never stop saying his name.
Now, one year later, as we continue fighting in court, we pray for accountability. We pray that the person responsible for taking DJ’s life is held accountable for the choices that were made that day. Nothing will ever bring DJ back. No verdict will erase the pain. No sentence will fill the empty space he left behind. But accountability matters. Justice matters. Because DJ’s life mattered.
He was not just another tow truck driver.
He was not just another statistic.
He was Daniel “DJ” Ortiz.
He was someone’s child.
Someone’s brother.
Someone’s best friend.
Someone’s family.
Someone who mattered.
Today, we ask everyone reading this to do one simple thing.
The next time you see flashing lights on the side of the road, think of DJ.
Think of the family that has spent the last year trying to put the pieces of their lives back together.
Think of the hospital room where we prayed for a miracle.
Think of the phone call no family should ever receive.
Think of the funeral for a 24-year-old who should have had decades left to live.
Then move over.
Slow down.
Pay attention.
One decision can save a life.
DJ, there isn’t a single day that goes by that you aren’t missed. We wish more than anything that this day never happened. We wish we could hear your laugh one more time, see your smile one more time, hug you one more time, tell you how much you are loved one more time.
Your life changed ours forever, and your legacy continues to save lives.
We miss you beyond words.
We love you beyond measure.
And we promise you this…
As long as we have a voice, we will use it.
As long as there are roadside workers risking their lives, we will continue demanding change.
We will never stop fighting for you.
We will never stop saying your name.
Justice for DJ isn’t just a hashtag.
It’s a promise.
Forever 24.
Forever loved.
Forever missed.
Forever our reason to fight.
We’ll drag the chains from here … 💛⛓️🖤
