Fatal Christmas Day crash on Smith Hill in Salisbury

By Joe Kelly

In even the smallest town, you may not get to know all your neighbors. But if you’ve lived in Norfolk at any time in the last 20 years, had school-age children or simply went for a swim at Tobey Pond, there’s a good chance you’ve met at least one member of the Nelson family.

Vicki and Joel Nelson were both teachers decades ago in West Cornwall when they married, moved to Norfolk and before long found themselves parents to Westley, Gabriell, Marcela and Avery. While leading a brood of four meant much of the year was spent juggling school and after-school schedules—their own and the kids—a more relaxed pace in the summer allowed time for a favorite family pastime: long, sunny afternoons at Tobey Pond. It was there that Westley perfected his talents as a naturalist while Gabby, Marci and Avery acquired the skills that would ultimately give them their first real jobs. For years, there was always a Nelson in the lifeguard chair at Tobey Pond.

College, careers and romance would pull at the threads of a close-knit family, but everyone always found time to come back to Norfolk, including this past Christmas. Gabby took time off from her job at Trinity College as associate director of the Center for Urban and Global Studies, while Marci got a break from working as a medical oncology nurse at Yale New Haven Hospital, and from her studies for a doctorate in nursing at the University of Saint Joseph in Hartford. 

The girls joined their parents, Westley and their little brother Avery, now celebrating his first full year in the workforce. After graduation from Eastern Connecticut State University in 2022, Avery landed a job at Stadium System, the sports equipment retailer and restorer in Canaan. 

Christmas Eve was all about dinner, games, dancing and laughing. On Christmas Day, Avery left around 2 p.m. to meet  friends and give out presents. But an hour later, the car Avery was a passenger in, traveling east on Route 44 down Smith Hill in Salisbury, crossed the road near the intersection with Twin Lakes Road and hit a tree. Avery, who had just turned 23 the month before, was pronounced dead at the scene. The driver was taken to the hospital with serious injuries.

His family remembers Avery as a born storyteller, spending hours with his brother, Westley, spinning elaborate tales. He loved nature and wore the same, homemade “Where the Wild Things Are” costume on Halloween for five years running. A beautiful singing voice led to roles in numerous school plays. He had a knack for magic—a 12-year-old Avery once held a party of teenagers in thrall performing magic tricks. 

It was said Avery knew how to fix anything and if he didn’t know, he figured it out. He built the first of many computers at 16. He studied biology in college, but his tech skills were self-taught. At Stadium System, the company quickly discovered Avery’s talents, appointing him IT coordinator and putting him to work on their inventory and online ordering systems.

The service took place on Saturday, Dec. 30, at the Church of Christ, Congregational. The church was filled upstairs and downstairs. The Rev. Erick Olsen presided. Liz Allyn played the organ. The family came in after everyone was seated. Joel read a poem he had composed after seeing the site where his son died. Westley sang a tribute to his brother, a cappella. Avery’s sisters remembered what it was like to be little girls with a baby brother. Friends played music. Seated in the crowded pews were nearly a dozen fellow video gamers. They had competed with Avery online, conversed in chats, but never met. Now they wanted to say good-bye.

In the weeks that followed, the family received scores of condolences—and were struck by how many of them sounded a similar theme: How Avery was such a good listener. How he was so present. How when others felt low, Avery had a talent for lifting them up. ”I’ve been all around the world and met a lot of people but I without a doubt have never known a kinder soul than Avery’s,” said one.

Pictures flooded in from all over. Many showed Avery over the years at  family gatherings, charting the path of a little blond boy becoming a young man, often dancing with his mother.

Avery was that lucky son with a deep connection to his mother. His family and many friends all commented on it. How he wore his heart on his sleeve, unembarrassed to be hugged or to hold hands. They said he was always that way. The last thing he said as he left the house on Christmas Day was “I love you, Mom.”

The crash that took Avery’s life remains under investigation.