On Wednesday morning, the 26th day of April, in the year 2000, It Happened. Sometimes, I still have trouble believing it. In some ways I am still too wounded and shocked to write about it clearly. But it seems necessary that I write it now for the web site because so many people want to know more. It is an awful story but filled with great love and consolation, too. At least it is for me. And even though I have the gift of a strong faith and have felt blessed and lifted by the love and prayers of so many, there are days I just don't know how we can go on. But we do. Ken and I have a great love for each other, and Willie is at the heart of that love.
Always.
The day It Happened, Will and his friend Patrick had skied and then hiked along a ridge from the top of the Summit Chair at Alpine Meadows to a cornice above a very steep chute, which leads into Estelle Bowl. Dropping from the cornice into the chute, about 12 feet, Will’s ski came off as he landed. He fell and slid, into rocks, quite a ways below. Patrick dropped into the chute after him, picked up the ski, and skied down to Will. Two patrolmen, had just opened the run, and were below. I heard that one had fallen, also, but sustained no injury. They were on the scene almost immediately and radioed the helicopter which flew him to Washoe Medical Center, in Reno, just minutes away. We were told it was hard to see into the chute while still waiting on the ridge above, where Patrick was when Will fell. Anyway, Dusten and John, Will’s good friends from Chiemsee, were not there that day. But later, in May, they returned to the site, and tried to piece together what happened. They found his sunglasses in the rocks. Dusten told us what he and John thought had happened, when Ken and I went to the site with him in June. Hopefully, others will write us with more information or corrections.
Ken and I began our journey to Washoe shortly after WilI’s. I teach art at the elementary school here in Dunsmuir and was called from my 10:45 class. Ken, Will’s dad was calling from his teaching job at the high school, about a mile away. He sounded shocked and upset as he told me Willie was hurt very badly. He had fallen while skiing at Alpine Meadows and had been airlifted to Washoe Medical Center, in Reno. We met at home where Ken called the hospital and was told that a cat scan had been done. The doctor said he had severe head trauma but also that he saw no need for immediate brain surgery. There was also a compound fracture to his left femur. He was stable but critically injured. We were on the road to Reno in about 1/2 hour.
We went the same way, through McCloud and Susanville, as we had traveled a few months before to visit Willie in King’s Beach, Lake Tahoe. As we drove, many wonderful memories came to me of our last days together in Tahoe. We had come down right after Christmas when there wasn't much snow at all. We still had a great time. Just like when we visited him in Germany in the summer of ’97, he was anxious to show us his life, and a good time. We skied together, and as he did in Europe, he had a party for us. It was just fun , as many of you know, to be near him, and we loved meeting his friends. After we got back home to Dunsmuir, whenever we talked on the phone, all spring, Will kept saying, “ Come back down! Now there's snow; you didn't really see what it was like with only a few runs open.” He was having a ball and wanted to share it with us, too.
Although we’ll always regret not going again to Tahoe, we had had much of the autumn with him in here in Dunsmuir. After being gone from us for 6 years in Europe, the first three in the army, the last three working at Chiemsee, we loved having him home. We hoped he might make Tahoe his home for a while longer.
We had been such a close and happy little family when he was young. It was great to recapture some the joy of having him near to do the ordinary, everyday things. He cooked for us, with pride, and made it more fun to do all the usual things like golf, getting wood, even working on cars. If he took off for distant lands again, we felt so glad for the time we had him home and we were proud of the man he had become. But, like you, we wanted so much more.
So throughout the long drive to the hospital, all these thoughts were woven around with the terrible fear. We just didn't even know how bad he was hurt. Would we even make it there before he died? I prayed the rosary in silence and Ken drove well and steady; I don't know how.
We had a cell phone that we borrowed from Bob Morris, Ken’s superintendent and our true friend, who helped and cared for us the whole time. He called us in the car (we could not reach the hospital) to say that he had contacted Washoe, where Will was now in the Intensive Care Unit. He confirmed the report that we heard before and said Willie was still stable. Washoe is the trauma center for the whole region and very close to Lake Tahoe. It is an amazing place and the best place for a severely injured person to be.
There is no doubt in my mind that Will received the best care possible, and that every effort was made to save him.
When we got to the hospital, we waited in the I.C.U. waiting room. There, we saw Patrick, who was skiing with Will that day, Ryan and John , Will’s Tahoe roommates, Jen, Bill and Kelly, Keri, Bob, and many others. Lindley and Elizabeth, Mae and Colin, Afrack, Jason, Bradley, Stephanie and Jim, Josiah and Susan, Kevin, Pam, Jan, Lynne, Kelli, Danielle, and Alisse, came later. Although I tried to keep track of all the visitors, to tell Will when he woke, I just couldn't. Times and dates also slip away, so if anyone can clarify anything, please do write us.
In a daze, we soon went in to see him. He was unconscious and
looked very bad. The left side of his face received the great impact.
His head and face were bruised and swollen, but there were no large
cuts. He wore a neck brace. Tubes went to his lungs and stomach.
Many wires. His dad and some others fainted. Somehow, Will’s appearance
did not affect me too badly. Just glad he was alive and stable, I
was able me to stay long periods at his bedside, able to be there
all night at first and last , and allowed
to help a lot.
However, I was incapable of a lot of the practical details of life, and Ken wonderfully, took care of those, as well as the calls and updates. (There were hundreds.) We do apologize for any misunderstanding caused by the updates. As I said before, the first cat scan did not show everything, and as the knowledge of the severity of the damage grew, we did our best to tell you all we knew. We felt a great need to emphasize whatever “good” there was to hope for. When I finally got on the machine (we wrote the updates together and Ken usually recorded them,) those were the facts as we knew them. I am sorry they gave some people too much hope. I wanted that hope, too. Ken thought I should record one, and just the fact that I did it, I think, gave hope to many. Again, I am sorry. It was so hard. The last part of my message, that the worst thing, still, was his severe head injuries, was ignored by many, or just not understood.
Practically speaking, I don't think we knew at all what to do or even what to pray for, except the strength to accept whatever happened. In the beginning we of course prayed only that he would live.
It was our dearest wish to take him home, and care for him forever. If he never spoke, or moved, so be it. We wanted our boy with us, even if he became a baby again. We could heal him with our love and God’s. We called it “our new life,” and we hoped desperately for it.
After we had been there a couple days, Ken was staying with Will
longer. Although Will was not
conscious, he read to him and played music softly. There's not much
“soft” music Will liked, but Kelli, who worked so hard for us and
for Will, had brought some Reggae that he liked, among other things.
We all tried to create a good mood for him. Since Will was the most extroverted
person imaginable, we encouraged visitors anytime the staff would allow
it. I believe that Will was helped a great deal by your presence,
and I know it helped his father and me. The nurses helped us
feel at home and allowed anything that would not interfere with the
care of their patient . We were encouraged to be part of the work, the
healing if was to be, the dying, too.
Our I.C.U. nurses, Karen, Cindy and Tina, had a most wonderful grace
and skill in the doing of this hard, hard work. It wasn't
just the difficult nature of taking care of the severely injured
patients in the Intensive Care Unit that we admired. It was also the extraordinary
care and compassion which they brought to their dealings with the suffering
families. I can't imagine how we would have managed if our nurse,
Karen hadn't gotten us a room at the Ronald MacDonald House, where we spent
all but the first two nights. It is truly the “House that Love Built” for
parents and families of critically ill children, and the “living angels”
who serve there will never leave our prayers. We also will never
forget in thanks, our
nurses, and all the excellent staff at Washoe.
The doctors, ( the team of trauma surgeon, neurosurgeon, and orthopedist,)
saw us often. As I look back, I can see they tried to tell
us it how bad it might be, from the first. (Well, not the
orthopedist, who fixed his leg well, so that Will “wouldn't be mad
at him when he woke up.”) The trauma surgeon and the neurosurgeon
were speaking truly, but our minds would just not accept their words,
would not compute them. The extent of the damage had not appeared
on the scans or other tests exactly, only that he was not responding
well at all. The nurses patiently tried to translate, to help us.
And finally, the horror of the terrible damage done by What Happened became
real.
A terrible stroke had occurred and began to look massive on the cat scan on Friday. Then, the doctors said there was only a 1% chance that he would survive with ability to think, move, or remember. He would be paralyzed. The left side of his brain was mostly dead, appearing white on the cat scan.
I need to say now that this account cannot convey the agony and mental confusion that we felt. It was so hard to accept, to believe. I think my dear friend Mae had known from the beginning, because she had lived with a brother who had been brain damaged in a bike accident when he was young, although not so severely. She had come the second day and stood at Will’s feet and wept.
She was thinking of us all and “our new life,” which she had seen destroy her family. Her parents. But we are different, we said, and it will be our joy to care for our son, forever. And many therapies and advances have been made since then, and besides, there is no other choice.
So we had made the complete commitment to accept whatever came to us.
We thought until Monday that a 1% chance of him not becoming
completely brain dead was our best hope. It made us glad to know
they had not given up on him and, on Monday evening, the trauma team
was going to do the tracheotomy to get rid of the breathing tube
that went into his lungs. That would be more comfortable for him,
although the doctors said any pain was “below consciousness.”
Only, as a mother, I saw my son's body, and I saw pain. I was
glad he would not have the tube and his face harshly twisted by it. The
wound from the compound fracture would be cleaned at the same time.
And that would be all they could do
for a while.
So on Monday evening, we all, Willie, Ken, Doctors, Nurse Karen, and I , went to another floor to the operating room. Ken and I were left in a little waiting room near it. We began to wait for what should have been an hour or so while they did the tracheotomy and cleaned the leg wound. Ken left for a moment and I was alone. Suddenly, the doctors returned with Karen. They had just completed another cat scan and the damage was “100 times worse” than they had suspected. Ken returned and together we heard the rest. There was literally no hope. They did not expect him to survive beyond the night. They all suggested we make him, and ourselves, as comfortable as possible and prepare for him to leave us. We had been through an emotional preparation that this might be in store for us on the Friday before. After the tears passed, and the shock that lets you function somewhat sensibly took over, we began the last part of our journey.
Back in Will’s room, that Monday night, an electric candle glowed. The chaplain, Noel, had brought it. Deacon Bob had left me a Bible. Will had already received the sacrament, Anointing of the Sick, from Monsignor Bolling, the afternoon he had arrived. The room was decorated with balloons from Eric D., pictures, cards, notes, a T-shirt with a message from T.S. and K.H. at Alpine, hats, and other mementos, from so many. Pam DiSalvo from Squaw, who came often and offered much help, had brought a very good CD player with nice speakers so we had music at times and no more visitors. A bed was brought in side by side to his, but not as tall. We could lie close and hold him. His father stayed late and I stayed all night.
The curtains were closed to visitors for the first time all week, but if someone had come I would have let them in. He was “Everybody’s Friend,” after all. That was the caption under his photo in high school.
I prayed a lot and sang a little, as I had all week: a song he made up when he was 4 about Deadwood South Dakota, “Beautiful Boy,” by John Lennon, “Come Back to Me,” a song from church, and others.
As we had all week, we held his hand, put lotion on his face and body, wherever he wasn't hurt. Much of him still was whole and beautiful. We bathed his poor broken head, less swollen now, and oozing much less.
He looked a lot more like himself, I thought. We kissed him and prayed for him, and for us all. I never stopped praying for guidance and I still don't. I just hope to be quiet enough to let myself be guided--sometimes a hard thing.
They were giving him more morphine so his hands relaxed a little. Although the “strong grip” and the “posturing” (or reaching) movement encouraged some of the visitors, and us at first, we had been told what they really meant, a prelude to the completely comatose state. On Tuesday morning, they removed the tube from his lungs and he breathed on his own until he left us at 5:40 p.m. We spoke to him and held and kissed him as he died. It was a huge blessing to us that, as he began his life in this world, so he left it, with us near, and all of us surrounded by immense love and peace. It was Tuesday at 5:40 p.m.
Our friends and neighbors, Ron and Donna La Rue and their son, Jeremiah, were with us. They arrived on Monday just as we received the worst news and they helped us so much. Afterwards, Ron led us in prayer. I stayed as the nurses began to disconnect Will from the remaining tubes and wires. He was bathed a bit, and shaved a little. He looked almost like himself, the swelling was so much less. He quickly became very pale.
We declined to take a picture, ( although I now regret not cutting a lock of that dear curl on top of his head) and we went to meet the people from Alpine Meadows and from Squaw Valley who had been waiting to see us in a conference room nearby. This had been planned in advance before we knew the worst. They had come to see him and bring the results from the benefit the ski areas had held. I guess still in shock, we received them as best we could. These two resorts came together in an incredible outpouring of love and support for Will and for us. It really helps to know Will spent his last days in the company of such fine men and women. The benefit had raised a great deal of money for which we are immensely grateful. They also brought stories and pictures and good wishes which were written out on paper banners. These, we treasure.
We returned one last time to Will’s room with his friends. We said farewell to him and to them and began the rest of our life.
Thank you to all who cared, and thank you Willie, for everything.
April 30, 2000
Donor List
Please help us thank the following donors:
Squaw Valley USA
Alpine Meadows
Captain John's
Eggschange
Ike Simmons
Jake's on the Lake
Java Sushi
La Petit Pier
Lakehouse Pizza
Lanzas
Pizza Junction
Plumpjack's
Porter's Ski and Sport Shop
Renegade Productions
River Ranch
Shane McConkey
Spendel Shanks
Squaw Valley Outfitters
Squaw Valley Sport Shop
Sunnyside Resort
Sunsets on the Lake
Tahoe T-Shirtery
Tahoe Water Adventures
The Truckee Hotel
The Resort at Squaw Creek
To Treats
Truckee River Rafting
Shakerman
Rosie's
Tahoe City Golf Course
Grazie
Naughty Dog
River Street Inn
Pacific Crest
Dave's Ski and Snowboard
Bridgetender
Kelly Tyler
Anne Saltmarsh
Jared Power
Lanza's
The Boulevard
Old Range Steakhouse
Spindleshanks
Garwoods
The Palmore family would like to thank all the donors
and also all who worked selling tickets and planning
the event.
We know Ike, Pam, and Kelli were very involved, but
there are many others who should know, also, that when
nothing in the world could help us, you did.
