The Miracles of Nigels Death

That morning started as any other morning had. The sun was out and it was a beautiful hot day in Central Oregon. June 2003, Friday the 13^th. We live in a town of only 150 people and a town of "family". One hundred fifty people in a town that is only 8 blocks long, yet we have two stores, two restaurants and two hotels. The nearest town is 47 miles away. No cell phone will work. No television reception. No radio stations. Yup! Country folk and proud of it! If you come to visit, you actually step back in time, nestled in the beautiful Painted Hills and high desert.Rain? What's rain? 

Our son Nigel was one of 40 or so high school students and the school year had ended only a week before. Anxiousness was in the air as the kids prepared for their summer vacation. Nigel turned 15 just 2 months ago. In our town where no one locks their doors and everyone leaves their keys in their cars. Where 99% of the town is heavily armed and protective and every adult is a mom or dad to ALL the kids in our community. One of the many blessings of this tiny piece of heaven is that these kids just don't get into trouble very often. The main reason is because these are just plain good kids who don't get into trouble AND because they know the whole town is watching them. 

Nigel had run the gamut on most everything you could imagine as far as being a teenager. A great kid always a smile on his face. A superb practical joker, a 4.0 student but wouldn't think twice about mooning you or giving you a wedgie, no matter who you were.

We had our very trying times with the most strong willed and yet funniest and most loving teenager you could ever lay your hands on. Nigel was brought up in the church and baptized at age 10. Yet, as we all do at one time or another in our Christian walk, Nigel became more interested in school, sports, video games and girls, than church. But the last two months of his 15 year life, Nige took a marked interest in his Christian walk again. He looked forward to bible study at our kitchen table every Monday evening and youth group on Thursdays at the Baptist Church across the street. Most of all he loved Sunday services with Sandra, myself, Granny and Grampa at the Assembly of God. The changes Nigel made on his own accord in the last two months were tremendous and went unnoticed by no one. It was almost as if God was nudging him to get his affairs in order. And he did. 

Nigel and I and our friend, Jesse Powell were sitting on the front deck of our home on this Friday morning. Nigel (who I firmly believe would have been a very successful stand up comic) said to Jesse and me: 

"Man, I was so bored last week, I shaved my butt".

To which Jesse replied:

  "Well crap Nige are you nuts? It's gonna be all prickly and itchy and everything when it grows back!"

Nige didn't miss a beat saying:

  "Naahhh...  I just keep shaving it."

Jesse and I busted a gut laughing. How were we supposed to know that in 8 hours, he would be gone? 

Nigel had a weekend job in Portland for the summer working for our good friends, Tom and Margi Russo. Tom ran a business called "Tommy's Toys". They were event suppliers of fun games such as Sumo Wrestling, Velcro Wall, the Bouncing Castle and such. On Thursdays we would take Nigel to the bus stop in Prineville which would take him to Portland. He stayed with our friend Marky Mason and took the local TriMet to Tom's events for set-up and tear-down. Tom paid Nigel very well and Nigel loved working for Tom. They were a darned good team. Thursday, June 12^th, Sandra, Nigel and I started for Prineville so he could catch the bus. We had gotten about 15 miles out of town when the engine in our car froze up. No going to Prineville today. We managed to get back home and call Tom to tell him that Nigel wouldn't be there this weekend. Not a problem. Tom said he could just come next weekend since Tom was pretty much booked all summer. Nige was disappointed, but was still excited about going next weekend. 

My wife Sandra belonged to an all ladies entertainment group called the "Fairlanes". There are two lead singers and Sandra is one of four dancers. The Fairlanes perform 50's music at small events but the 13^th, today, was a big day for them. They had been booked for a show in John Day Oregon for the huge BMW rally. Everyone had been so excited about this "big gig" and was looking extremely forward to it. Sandra had been excited for a week. But today, for some odd, indescribable reason, she was on the couch all day; completely exhausted; with no hint of why. We were supposed to be in John Day by 6:30 pm for set-up. We would have to leave Mitchell by 5 o'clock. 

I'm the Sergeant of the Wheeler County Sheriff's Posse as well as Wheeler County Search and Rescue and had, at that time, been for about a year. My best friend is Bob Hudspeth; Deputy Sheriff and husband to Christy who is the lead singer of the Fairlanes. Bob and Christy had left for John Day earlier this particular afternoon to scout out the stage and find out about the sound equipment. Sandra couldn't get up and get around...she just wanted to sleep. This of course would mean that we would be late for John Day. Nigel woke up in a great mood and went to a friend's house. They had breakfast and also planned their day. After Nigel and Jessie and I got up from our front porch, Nige asked if he could spend the day with his best friend Jake Williams, AND he wanted to take his dirt bike, put it in Jessie's truck, and go riding out on BLM (Public) land. Giggling, I told him absolutely not.

          "Why?"

"Because, although you're a good rider, you've never ridden without me. I don't want you or all three of you to get hurt out in the middle of nowhere and no way to go for help". Of course the begging and bargaining began, to which I kept saying no. They finally gave up and I walked them to the gate, Jessie's truck awaits!  Now since I was on the Sheriff's Posse, I heard a little rumor floating around our tiny town that most of the kids were going to have one heck of a party out on the BLM road. (In other words...out in the middle of nowhere.) So I ask Nigel where he is going to be while we are gone. "I'm gonna be at Jakes". And Matt might come over and hang out". Matt was also one of Nigels very close friends.

"So, you're not planning on leaving town,right?"

"I'll be at Jakes, Kief" he stated with that stop worrying look and grin. "We're probably gonna hang out around town and go back over to Jakes and play video games."

Not a problem. I wasn't worried because, 1: Nigel was very much against drinking, drugs and smoking,and, 2...like I stated earlier... there's WAY too many adopted moms and dads in this town. Doreen Williams was Nigel's second mom. We call her the "Crazy Aussie Woman". A fantastic sense of humor with that great Aussie accent. Married to Gary, she is a stay at home mom of three while Gary is in the Marines overseas. Nigel and Jake, I think, were somehow connected at the hip at birth. I've never seen two kids so close. They adored each other, and never had to say it. Nigel adored Doreen and we adored Jake. Jake was always welcome at our house and Nigel at Doreen's. Every once in a while, because of their practical jokes and constant ribbing, Doreen would have to whap Nigel up side his noggin and visa versa for us and Jake. The worse thing we could do as parents was to ground them from seeing each other. I think they'd rather be on bread and water for a year. I'll never forget one morning when Jake stayed over for the night, they both came running into our bedroom clad only in shorts. Like Lewis and Martin, they stood at the end of our bed and said:

          "Hay!  Guess what?? We learned to do the Macarena dance!"

And I'm thinking to myself, big woop... I'm tired! So they proceed to do the Macarena dance at the foot of our bed. Now, you know the part of the dance where you put your hands on your hips and turn around?... well... here's these two little white butts staring us in the face.The best T-shirts for these two?...

"Good Morning...Let the stress begin!"

Humming birds on speed. Since Sandra was so exhausted, we of course, were late leaving for John Day. Really late. We loaded everything that she would need for the performance in the truck. I always take my police radio with me where ever I go, but today with us being so late and John Day being so far away and out of my jurisdiction, I left it in the house. We started off and went about 20 feet, when something very strong inside me said: "Go get the radio." So I did. On our way out of town we stopped at the Bridge Creek Cafe to get a couple of sodas for the trip. I went inside as Sandra was still exhausted. Doreen was there and said:

"I just saw Matt and Nigel headed out of town in Matts yellow truck."

I told her that they probably were headed to Matts house to play video games. Again, I wasn't worried. Matt was 16 and like one of our own and had been driving his new bright yellow Ford Ranger for a few months.

 Sandra and I headed east towards John Day. We were chatting a little, but she was still tired. We had gone about 20 miles when my radio went off. We were only about a mile from Picture Gorge. The gorge gets so deep that our radios won't receive or transmit. I pulled over to the shoulder to listen. Scratchy and barely audible all I could understand was "Motor Vehicle Accident on Highway 207 at mile post 20." Sandra sat silent for a few minutes while I was trying to make heads or tails of the call. She finally said:

"Kiefer, you cant save the world and we're going to be late. There are plenty of people in town to take care of the call."

Then it hit me in my gut like a wrecking ball. In my minds eye, all I could see was Matt and Nigel and that yellow truck full of kids headed to the party out on the BLM road. Highway 207, mile post 20. The BLM road is at mile post 22. The "secret" party.

More scratch, more inaudible speech. And then, "Be advised that Air Life has been dispatched to the site."

          "Kiefer! We need to get going." Sandra said.  Not wanting to panic her I said:"Sandra, I'm worried about Nige". She got an odd look on her face and said:

          "Then turn around."

I spun out a 180 and headed back towards town, running about 100 mph with my bright lights on and my emergency flashers. As we drove in the oddest silence I've ever experienced; I knew for a fact that it was not only Matt and Nigel in that yellow truck, but in my mind I saw our entire town full of boys scattered all over the road. I wanted to throw up. My mind is racing. I'm on the radio, calm but adamant:

"35-16 to dispatch."

Nothing.

"35-16 to Mitchell Ambulance."

Nothing.

"35-16, I'm headed in that direction."

Nothing.  Sandra grabs my right arm and says:

          "Oh my God!"

The coordinates had just hit her.We were in that silence that no one can describe.  A black hole. I'm worrying for nothing. It's not Nigel. It wasn't Matt's truck that Doreen saw go by the cafe. Bob's in John Day. How do I get in touch with him? Wheres Jake and Eric and Justin and Billy and Nolan and Tyler and Alex and Jason and Keith and Nick and Cornbread and Levi and Ryan and Patrick and Roy and Henry and Dustin and Herb? Nothings wrong. All the kids are ok. I'm imagining things. Wheres Bob? Nigel's at Jakes. The drive from Painted Gorge to town took a week in slow motion and at the same time it took 3 seconds.I made the right turn onto Highway 207 at about 60 mph. My police radio was silent. Still at 100 mph we passed the BLM road at mile post 22. I glanced down the dirt road on my left. Nothing. Mile post 21 passed like lightning. Then, there it was. In the field on our right. The bright yellow Ford...upright.

Panic, denial and then relief.

The truck is upright!  Sandra is saying over and over like a skipping record:

          "Oh God, no!"

The road is full of cars...all that I recognize. Our town family. The ambulance is there. Roy Gordon is directing traffic. From the truck before we come to a stop, I can't see anyone in the field.

Partial relief.

Bumps and bruises and maybe even a broken bone or two. 

I come to a screeching stop right in front of Roy but I can't remember the look on his face.

I tell Sandra to wait in the truck. I jump out and yell at Roy while I'm running across the road:

          "Do NOT let her out of the truck!"

So many people.Tunnel vision.  At almost 50 years old and with a bum leg, I cleared the 5 strand bob-wire fence .When I land, I see Nigel on his back covered with a blanket from the waist down. Our volunteer EMT's are working on him.  Carol Sweet looks at me, her face gray:

          "He's gone Kiefer."

"Bullshit" I said.  Nigels shirt was off.  A small rug burn type injury on his chin. A tiny cut on his stomach and above his left eye. Otherwize...nothing. Mike Keys is performing CPR on him. Mary Cannon is breathing for him. I lie down on the ground next to him on his left side and I press my mouth to his left ear.

"Son, I'm here. Mom's here and you're going to be ok. Just hang in there Nige!  You're gonna be ok."

 

I look up at Mike Keys. He's the palest of white. He knew Nigel very well and I thought he was going to have a heart attack. I was very worried about him so I decided to take over.