Christi Jean Doerflinger

I first met Christi when I was in second grade at New Prospect School. I had just moved from Detroit, Michigan, and was the new kid in town. Growing up, I was used to moving from house to house, so stability was something I didn’t have much of. Despite that, Christi, her sister Alisa, and I became friends at NP, though it was for only a short time. Shortly after, my family moved back to Michigan, and I remember missing Christi as a friend.

Fast forward to sixth grade—my family moved back to Lawrenceburg, and I started attending New Prospect School again. I was so excited because I remembered Christi and Alisa, and picking up our friendship felt so natural. I can still recall us playing dodgeball at P.E. outside at NP. We were always taller than the other girls, so needless to say, we weren't the last ones picked on the teams!

While in school, Christi was always a bit quiet. After we graduated from eighth grade at NP and transitioned to high school, like many of us, we seemed to lose touch amidst the hustle and bustle of high school life. But then, I remember Christi and her family starting to attend New Prospect Baptist Church after I had been saved in 1989. I’m not sure when exactly they began attending, but I know that as soon as we reconnected there, our friendship picked up right where it had left off. It was easy, comfortable, and fun. We enjoyed participating in ladies’ events and Sunday school together. Christi was always reserved, but she had a strong faith in Christ that she openly shared.

When Christi had her accident, I made it a point to visit her as often as I could. I even took her shopping in Nashville several times. Christi loved to shop! We would stay out late, laughing and talking, coming back home with the van packed. What I remember most is that she always shopped for her children first and foremost. I don’t recall her buying much for herself, except for a few purses. She loved purses—her collection was quite the sight! She also loved Christmas time. For a few years, we made it a tradition that I would help her decorate your Christmas tree. She had such great taste in decorations and clothes, and that beautiful red hair of hers—it was her signature. No matter what, she always made sure her hair looked perfect.

She was always so kind and complimentary, telling me how much she liked my clothes or my hair, always making sure I knew how much she appreciated me. She never took anything for granted, and she was always so thankful for anything I did with her or for her. I remember driving her around in her van with the ramp—was it a Toyota? I think it was. Christi was very good at remembering the important things I shared with her. Months later, she’d bring up things I had told her in passing, showing just how good of a listener she truly was.

Over time, Christi began to withdraw a bit, and while it was hard, I knew it wasn't personal. She was simply processing everything that had happened. I remember when she changed her phone number and moved, but I didn’t give up. I kept trying to reach out, and eventually, I found a way to contact her. As always, when we reconnected, it felt like no time had passed at all, and we picked up right where we left off, despite having gone through a couple of years without seeing each other.

No matter where Christi moved, I always found her. She was such a devoted mother, and it was clear how much she loved her children and her family. I know that all of you miss her deeply, as do I. But even though she is no longer with us, our loss is Heaven’s gain.

— Angie Clayton

Where do I even begin? My mom, Christi, was so much more than just a mom to me. The Webster Dictionary might define "mom" as a female parent or mother, but my mom exceeded that definition in every possible way. She was our provider, always making sure we had nice clothes, money in our lunch accounts, and even snack money for school. I have vivid memories of her getting ones from the bank, and my grandfather ensuring my sister and I had a couple of dollars every morning for our snacks.

My mom had so many qualities that made her unique. She loved cooking and was an avid runner, always full of energy and zest for life. The beach was one of her favorite places, and she had the most beautiful red hair you could ever imagine. There was a time—either in 2016 or 2017—when she decided to go blonde. Bless her heart, it wasn’t quite her style, but she thought she rocked it. And honestly, that was enough for her, so we all went along with it. Fortunately, she soon returned to her signature red hair.

She was a classy lady, always well-dressed, with her makeup on point, and her jewelry complementing every outfit perfectly. Her choice of perfume was always on the mark. My mom presented herself with ambition, purpose, joy, kindness, and respect for everyone she met. She was active in her community and church before her accident and continued to support various organizations after. She was a lifetime supporter of St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, the Boys and Girls Club, and many other notable causes.

One of my mom’s favorite pastimes was sitting outside, basking in the sun. She could easily spend three or four hours outside with her playlist playing, sipping a drink, and snacking on Ritz crackers with peanut butter. She loved watching the birds and enjoyed the view of the lake from her backyard. Another thing she took great pride in was her flowerbeds. Before her accident, she had a beautiful garden full of Hostas, Monkey Grass, a Weeping Willow, and her beloved red Knockout Roses.

After the accident, my mom displayed such resilience, dignity, and joy. She had everything stripped away in an instant but still found peace and purpose. She encouraged everyone around her—her kids, friends, and family—to always strive to be the best version of themselves and make a positive impact in the world. Two quotes she often repeated were: "The smile on my face doesn’t mean my life is perfect. It just means I appreciate what I have and what God has blessed me with," and "Just be a good person, love who you can, help where you can, and give what you can."

My mom was the best mom anyone could ever ask for. She loved deeply and would help anyone, no questions asked. She especially adored the holidays, but Christmas was her favorite. She loved decorating the house and shopping for gifts. You never knew what she was getting you, but you could always count on it being something special. Family time was everything to her. She cherished having us all together under one roof, and her grandkids held a special place in her heart. Kyler, in particular, was her best friend. When he would stay the night, he always convinced her to let him sleep in her bed. The laughter that filled the room was the purest sound. Their bond was truly one-of-a-kind, and it hurts knowing he lost such a special person at such a young age. He talks about her almost every day and tells his little brother Krew all about their Gaga.

My mom’s favorite color was lime green, and I think her favorite song was "Tennessee Whiskey" by Chris Stapleton. But she also loved Toby Keith, Tim McGraw, Faith Hill, and other modern country artists, as well as classic rock. One of her favorite movies to watch was Pretty Woman—she could watch it a hundred times and never tire of it. She had her set routines—talk shows, soap operas, game shows—and never missed an episode. If she had a doctor’s appointment, she made sure the DVR was set to record.

Summer was another season my mom adored, especially when we grilled out. She loved a juicy cheeseburger and always wanted her hot dogs just a little bit burned. I miss our late-night chats, shopping trips (even if we were always the last ones to leave), sightseeing outings, and, of course, our trips to Olive Garden.

The saying "You don’t know what you have until it’s gone" rings so true. Even though I had a tight grasp on how blessed I was to have such an amazing mom, the present without her feels unbearable. But, knowing that she is no longer in pain, no longer suffering, and is able to run free, does offer some comfort. All I can do now is cherish the memories we made and look forward to the day we’re reunited.

Until then, I’ve made it my mission to ensure that fewer families go through the same challenges my mom and our family faced. Her legacy will live on in the love, kindness, and resilience she taught us all.

— Noah Doerflinger

Oh my goodness, where do I even begin?
I absolutely loved Christi. We were such good friends during our time working together at Jones Apparel. I have so many memories with her. One that stands out was the year I came over to her house around Christmas to help her wrap gifts for you all. You (Noah) must have been around two years old then. Christi was always so put together and took such pride in her appearance. I was younger at the time, and she loved hearing my wild and crazy weekend stories every Monday. We’d laugh and catch up – it was a little ritual we had.

One day in particular, she was having a really tough time, so we decided to just drive around and talk. We ended up on some back roads in the West Point area, not really sure where we were. This was before everyone had cell phones, so we found a payphone and called our friend Sherry, who also worked with us at Jones, because we knew she lived out that way. When we told her where we were, she panicked and told us to lock the doors and get back to Lawrenceburg immediately; we’d unknowingly wandered into a rough part of town.

To make things even more ridiculous, I needed to pee, so we pulled over on the side of the road. Just as I stepped out, a vehicle turned around and started following us. Turns out, the guy thought we were messing around on his farm! I was just trying to go to the bathroom. We laughed about that story for years. It was one of those classic, only-with-Christi kind of moments.

After her accident, we kept in touch through texts, calls, and Facebook. I even went over and painted her nails for her once. She’d been through so much, yet she still carried herself with grace. Christi was a very private person, but she would open up to me and Sherry sometimes, sharing little pieces of what was going on in her life.

I always admired her. She has the most infectious laughs, and I adored her beautiful red hair! I couldn’t believe it when she went blonde for a bit! That was just so her – always full of surprises.
She truly meant a lot to me.

— Kimberly Smith Green

For the longest time, she (Christi) was the “cool aunt”. The one who made everything feel a little more exciting and a lot more fun. I remember one time; she picked me up from my dad’s house and took me to Shoe Carnival for the very first time. I thought it was the neatest place ever. That day, she bought me a pair of Adidas slides, and I wore them everywhere like they were the greatest shoes in the world.

She always had the best hair—big, styled, and full of personality, just like her. When I was about four or five, we were living with Gernie and Pawpaw in Lawrenceburg. One day, I watched her in the big basement bathroom, getting ready. I can still picture her standing in front of the mirror, spraying what seemed like half a can of hairspray to hold all that hair up. It was a whole process, and I was in awe.

She loved when I did her eyeshadow. Sometimes, she’d ask me to go shopping with her, and we’d spend hours browsing and laughing. She was the kind of person you could talk to for hours—unless she happened to fall asleep mid-conversation, which happened more than once.

I miss those days. I miss her random texts checking in on us, especially about Max. Time has a way of slipping by unnoticed, and it hurts to admit how often I let life get in the way of spending more time with her. She meant so much to me, and I wish I had more of those little moments back.

Time really is a thief.

— MaryBeth Tidwell

I absolutely adored Christi. While I cherished the moments when I got to pamper her, what I truly miss the most are our conversations—the stories we shared, the laughs we had, and the quiet moments of connection that made our friendship so special.

Christi talked often and lovingly about her children and grandchildren. You could hear the pride and joy in her voice every time she mentioned any of you. Her love for her children and grandchildren was deep and unwavering, it was clear you all were her entire world.

She would sometimes reminisce about her life before the accident, reflecting on the things that brought her joy, especially decorating her home. She had such a creative spirit and loved turning a space into something beautiful. We also bonded over our favorite foods and shared memories of cooking, something she used to really enjoy.

More than anything, I just miss her. She had a way of making even the simplest conversation meaningful. We shared so many laughs together, and I always tried to check in and remind her how much I valued her, not just as someone I cared for, but as a true friend.

— Gretta Littrell

I first met Christi through our mutual friend, Melanie Barnett. The two of them were incredibly close, and it was through Melanie that I had the pleasure of getting to know Christi. We also ended up working together at Jones Apparel, though we were in different departments, our paths crossed often.

What I remember most about Christi is how genuinely kind she was. No matter the day or circumstance, she always treated me with warmth and grace. She had this beautiful, radiant smile that made you feel welcomed, and it’s that smile I still picture when I think of her.

Even after her accident, Christi continued to inspire me. She smiled through the pain, showing a strength and resilience that was nothing short of remarkable. She was a shining example of perseverance, and her courage left a lasting impact on everyone around her.

Christi's love for her children was at the very core of who she was. Her kids were her heart, and she would have done absolutely anything for them. That kind of love, unwavering and wholehearted, is what truly defined her. She was a wonderful person, and the love she had for her family was the greatest expression of who she was.

— Tonya Brewer