In a small Florida town, the unthinkable has happened — not once, but twice. A family now lives in the long, echoing shadow of two heartbreaking losses, both occurring under circumstances too tragic to fully comprehend.
Tracey Nix, 67, a retired school principal and grandmother, was sentenced to five years in prison after her 7-month-old granddaughter, Uriel, died in a hot car in November 2022. It was a horrifying repeat of tragedy for the Metcalf-Schock family. Less than a year earlier, in December 2021, their 16-month-old son, Ezra, drowned in a pond while also in Tracey’s care.
The day Uriel died was oppressively hot — nearly 90 degrees. Tracey had taken the baby with her while Uriel’s mother, Kaila, was at a hair appointment. After lunching with friends, Tracey returned home. But she never took the infant out of the SUV. Hours later, it was a family member who found Uriel unresponsive in the backseat.
During her sentencing, Tracey’s voice cracked with guilt and devastation:
“I forgot. I truly, terribly forgot. I wish I could go back. I’m not trying to excuse it — I’m just so, so broken.”
Her words, however raw, did little to soothe the pain of her daughter and son-in-law, Kaila and Drew Schock, who stood in the courtroom, trembling under the weight of their grief.
Kaila, through tears, spoke of the unimaginable agony of losing not one but two children — both while under the watch of someone she trusted more than anyone.
“The thought of what my daughter must have felt in her final moments… it destroys me.”
Drew, his voice shaking with emotion, added:
“Twice. This happened twice in our lives. How do we survive that?”
Ezra’s death in 2021 was ruled a tragic accident. According to reports, he had wandered into a nearby pond while Tracey was asleep. Prosecutors didn’t move forward with charges then, citing a lack of evidence for criminal negligence.
But Uriel’s death changed everything.
Tracey was initially charged with aggravated manslaughter, a charge that could have led to a 30-year sentence. In the end, a jury found her guilty of a lesser offense: leaving a child unattended in a vehicle — a third-degree felony. The judge, while acknowledging her sorrow, emphasized the gravity of her actions.
“This wasn’t an isolated mistake,” Judge Brandon Rafool stated. “Remorse and sorrow are not the same.”
Kaila addressed her mother directly — a daughter caught in an impossible place between love and loss.
“I still love you. I didn’t want to make this choice. But I had to. And it doesn’t mean I don’t carry you in my heart.”
Drew, standing beside her, added quietly:
“Our surviving son will grow up never knowing his brother. Never knowing his sister. That is the legacy we live with.”
Tracey’s husband, Nun Ney Nix, testified on her behalf, painting a portrait of a woman unraveling in silence — a once-vibrant educator now consumed by isolation and grief. But for the court, and the grieving parents, that anguish couldn’t outweigh the permanence of what was lost.
This tragedy has sparked renewed urgency around the dangers of hot car deaths — a horrifying phenomenon that continues to claim young lives. Since 1990, over 1,100 children in the U.S. have died in hot vehicles, most of them accidentally left behind. In 2023 alone, 40 children died this way.
Experts warn it can happen to anyone. Dr. David Diamond, a neuroscientist at the University of South Florida, explained that our brain’s “autopilot” mode — the same one that lets us drive home without thinking — can dangerously override even the most important thoughts.
“We’re wired to forget, even the unimaginable,” he said. “That’s what makes it so terrifying.”
Organizations continue to push for safety measures: always check the backseat, keep personal items near the child’s seat, and lock cars when not in use.
Tracey Nix’s sentence may mark the end of a legal chapter, but for the Metcalf-Schock family, the pain lingers — an open wound no ruling can heal. Two children, gone too soon. Two small lives, ended in the span of a year.
Uriel and Ezra are now memories — cherished, mourned, and impossible to forget. Their story stands as a haunting reminder that even a momentary lapse can change everything.
