My brother was my hero, the person I looked up to the most in my life. He had impeccable character, more than anyone I have ever known.  My brother was my best friend, my hero. He was one of those incredible human beings that was smart, athletic, a dynamic Christian, fun and an all-around humble nice guy. He had flawless character in each and every aspect of his life. He was honest, kind and exhibited integrity in all that he did. He was Valedictorian of Yukon High School in Yukon, Oklahoma, All-State Baseball Catcher, Academic All-Stater, Second Team All-American, Player of the Year for the Oklahoman, Player of the Year for the Coaches Association and the Jim Thorpe Player of the Year, just to name a few. He had high aspirations to play college baseball, pro-baseball and eventually be an orthopedic surgeon. All of these goals were within reach. He was heavily recruited by Division I schools, and pro baseball scouts had planned on drafting him on June 4th. He was a guy that everyone loved and could relate to, not a cocky athlete or an unapproachable intellectual; he was amazing.

You might notice that I keep using the words “had” and “was.”  My Mom and I received a phone call on June 3, 2002 that changed my life forever. This person, my brother, whom I looked up to more than anyone in my life, was driving his best friend and girlfriend home from work and was involved in a serious accident. It was 1:22 on a beautiful Monday afternoon, the Christian song “When the Rain Comes” was playing on the radio; it was just a normal day.  As he was showing his girlfriend an easier route to get home, suddenly tandem wheels broke off of an 18-wheeler and came hurtling toward them at a high speed. My brother had just seconds to react and turned the wheel where his side of the car would receive the entire impact. The car spun violently out of control resting near a concrete wall; a second 18-wheeler behind his car went into a jackknife but, luckily, was able to stop. My brother, my hero, was killed instantly. His girlfriend and best friend received minor injuries and were able to open their car doors and get safely out of the car. My brother had to be removed with the Jaws of Life. My brother was credited with saving both of their lives… some commented that he was “blocking to the very end,” since he was a catcher. The newspapers called him a hero, but he was my personal hero every day in my life.  The life I knew ended that day.  We had an incredible close-knit loving family that was extremely happy. We were all shattered. We were all changed forever. I never knew that I could experience a pain so deep. The memorial service the night before my brother’s funeral brought 500 friends that told story after story of the tremendous impact he had on their lives.  Over 2000 people attended his funeral.  I read from my brother’s daily devotional in front so many people who loved him. 

That day in June, I lost the person whose character I most admired, the person that I loved the most, and for me, this was a life-altering event. Through all of my grief, I made a conscious decision to not let this destroy me. My brother led such an incredible life in his short 18 years, and I knew I had to honor him and God with my own life. Through my daily tears, I became a better person, better student, better athlete, better Christian, better friend. I constantly had to remind myself that my brother would not have wanted his death to ruin my life, even though it easily could have. I chose the tougher path of living a life that would help others and be an encouragement and inspiration to those around me. My brother, my hero, prepared an incredible foundation for me that made my high school years easier.  This life-altering event of losing my hero in my life became a tragic building block for the rest of my life.