A Shooting Star

This Week's Song - Please Come to Boston - by Dave Loggins - The 1974 classic has been recorded by many artists. It was Jacob's favorite. I kinda like it too.

Michael Young would take a second job in the two weeks leading up to the 4th of July. In those days, money for things like fireworks was scarce, but his children loved fireworks - especially Jacob. So, Michael worked at the fireworks stand, and Jacob got his fireworks.

When he was in first grade, Jacob was unable and unwilling to focus at school. He loved mischief and his red bicycle. He was always in motion, a kid and then a young man with a fire inside.  He lived and loved fast. He was whip smart and when he reached the right age he could weld anything that needed welding. Jacob Young was curious - about things and people. He could talk to a wall. He didn't have any quit in him, and he came by it honestly. But, I often don't meet someone until tragedy strikes.

Happy 4th!

I met Jacob on an overcast winter day in 2009. I stood beside his hospital bed which rested in his grandmother's house.  There was a table for his medicine, a lone chair, a television and another bed. I'd read his medical records, the long cold words on CT and MRI reports that translated to ruin. "Hi Jake, I'm your lawyer." His head was turned away, his hand drawn beneath his chin. Among the dark locks of hair was a severe depression in his skull. He cut his eyes at me and moaned, indicating disapproval. "Jake!" admonished his mother, Kelley, much in the same way she had when he was a little boy. On this day he apparently didn't want a lawyer in his room. Who does?  The vestiges of his youthful vitality, the fire of 24 years, smoldered beneath the bed-ridden and broken kid before me. His injury was profound. I expected hopelessness. I got something else. Looking back, I can't believe they even let me in the door. Jake would come to tolerate me. I'd come to love him and his remarkable family. 

"Jakie Boy," as his mom called him, had been a fun-loving, fiercely loyal friend. He was fearless in everything he did. His little brother, Josh, was in awe of Jacob. Jacob simply never met a stranger, regardless of age, race, gender or stature in life. He was protective of the weak. Ask Owen, the boy with Autism who went to school with him. Loyal and protective. Sometimes our best qualities end up hurting us. In the prime of his life, Kelley and Michael Young's beautiful baby boy suffered a traumatic brain injury that would've killed most men. He'd come to the defense of a friend in a dark parking lot. Things escalated. The result was the end of life as Jake had known it. It was the end of life as the Young family had known it. However, light finds its way into the dark places. The Youngs are pure light.

Michael Young looks like he just walked off the Appalachian Trail after five months of isolation. His thick black hair, peppered with streaks of gray, comes to his shoulders. A beard with the same colors is broad and hits him in the middle of his chest. He is soft-spoken and one of the kindest people I've ever known. He is a quiet man. "We were just too young," says Kelley when asked about her marriage to Michael. They'd been teenagers when Brandy came along and didn't give up on the marriage until after Jacob and then, finally, Josh arrived on the scene. People mature. People change, Marriages crumble, but as I continued to represent this family over the next few years, it became increasingly clear there was an obvious respect and love that existed between Michael and Kelley. They were married to other people, but the romantic love of youth transformed via mutual respect and a common interest in bringing up children the right way. Regardless of what you call it, there was no missing it. Jacob's accident seemed to strengthen that bond and, in fact, bring the entire family closer together. Pure light.

Jakie Boy

Kelley and Michael didn't care what the doctors thought once they got past those first weeks. Talk of nursing homes and eminent death didn't set well with Mama Bear. It didn't set well with anyone. They moved Jake to Mamaw's, and settled in to a new life letting love lead the way. For the next five years they split up the time and work it took to not only keep Jake alive, but to show him every minute of the day how he was loved. Kelley slept in the twin bed next to Jacob's when it was her night. Despite holding down a full-time job, she'd make the trip every Monday, Wednesday, Saturday, and every other Thursday night to her ex-husband's mother's home to sleep next to her son. "Mamaw" opened up her house, and they should've put in a revolving door. Only love walked in. With her ex-husband down the hall asleep with his wife, Renee, Kelley would rise every 2 hours to change her son's position in the bed to avoid bed sores like the one he got during his initial hospitalization. Once Jakie Boy got home from the hospital, something the doctors said he'd never do, his big sister, Brandy, quit her job to take care of him every single weekday. "Can't" isn't part of the Young vocabulary. Everyone grabbed an oar and started rowing. Renee, Michael's wife, and her son helped. Jacob's niece would lay in bed with him and signal to the family when she sensed a problem. Don't tell the Youngs Jake won't leave the hospital. Don't tell them he won't live a year. Don't tell them he belongs in a nursing home. Don't tell them he can't feel or communicate. When it wasn't Kelley's night, it was Michael's. Jacob didn't go two hours without touch or love. The care was around the clock. 24 hours a day. Seven days a week.

For 5 years.

Jacob Young was never alone. Never.  He never went a day without someone telling him they loved him. Kelley would lie in bed with him and pray, tell him he was so handsome, tell him what was going on in the rest of the family, and shave her baby's face. She joked that Michael had forgotten how to use a razor, so she shaved him. Brandy would manually exercise his legs and change her little brother's diapers. Brandy would tend to his daily living needs and watch television with him.
 During one of those long days of caring for her brother, Brandy came across the movie Cold Mountain, a love story, based on the beautifully written novel by Charles Frazier. The movie featured Jude Law and Nicole Kidman. In the heart-wrenching final scene, Brandy turned to see a solitary tear rolling down Jacob's face.

They took Jake to the beach. The logistics and planning would rival the operation known as Zero Dark Thirty. His toes were put in the sand. He smiled. It was worth it. It would be his last trip to the beach, but every one of the family members pitched in.

typical birthday

Time caught up to Jacob. Kelley was the last to arrive. Michael insisted on life saving measures and to withhold a 911 call until his mother arrived. As they stood by their boy Michael and Kelley professed their gratefulness to the other for parenting their children. The longest road had ended. Their hard work was done.

Kelley has a photo of Jake in the back window of her car so that she can see him in her rearview mirror and imagine he is riding along with her. If you sit on Mamaw's front porch you can see Jakie Boy's headstone in Hopewell Cemetery where a celebration seemingly takes place once a week. At night, when he feels the need, Michael can look out from the porch and see a solar powered angel light where his boy rests. If you pass by the Maryville cemetery on Jake's birthday, Christmas or any special occasion, especially the 4th of July, you will see a big group of family and friends milling around, laughing and sharing stories. You may hear fireworks and see balloons floating above the tree line. Kelley, Mike, Brandy and Josh are usually there, as are Renee, and Mike and Kelley's grandchildren, friends and anyone else who wants to celebrate. Don't tell them Jacob is dead. They'll smile knowing you are wrong. It is not only powerful to be loved. It is powerful to give it, and in the giving, it never ends. This week, the fireworks ignited by flame arced brilliantly into the night-time sky, exploding into a beautiful display of light. I'm miles away, but I thought of Jacob Young and his remarkable and loving family as lights ignited the sky above me.  Happy 4th!