It was a weekend that had a little bit of everything…disappointment, ecstasy and shock. The Ketchum Warriors ended their season Friday night when they fell in a close contest to Commerce in the class 2A Regionals. An exciting game with all the highs and lows which can only be manufactured in a high school, high stakes contest. Then it was on to Stillwater, Oklahoma, home of our beloved Cowboys.
With grandson Jordan Fleming in tow, we headed to historic Gallagher-Iba Arena to watch the Cowboys take on the number one ranked Kansas Jayhawks. Even though the good guys were only five and one half point underdogs, I would guess few outside of the Cowboy locker room thought they had much of a chance to defeat the team many consider the favorite to win this year’s national championship.
The hometown favorites played lights out basketball and led the mighty Hawks by as much as 19 points during the second half. And in site of the slowest five minutes to ever tick off a game clock, the Cowboys prevailed in one of the year’s biggest upsets in college basketball. As those final seconds melted off that slow moving game clock, Jordan, whose “Orange Blood” has been certified, turns to me and says, “PaPa my weekend just got better.”
The next morning this happy band of Cowboy fans headed back to Grand Lake. We delivered number one grandson back to his parents, said our goodbyes and headed to the Grays Hollow compound in time to catch the evening news. Lots of Olympic coverage, comments on our unseasonably cool temperatures and a short clip on a plane crash in Bristow that had claimed two lives which had yet to be identified.
Plane crashes didn’t used to get my attention, but over the years that has changed. Since so many of my pals are or were pilots, I now at least try to absorb the details and possible causes. I didn’t think much more about the crash until my cell phone rang the next morning. Before I even said hello, the caller ID revealed it was Hugh Hollowell and I knew it was way too cold to be talking about a golf game. Hugh was the messenger with the worst possible news. One of the youngsters in the crash in Bristow was the son of long-time Grand Lakers Art & Sylvia Couch. I was stunned, shocked and reminded of something I have written about over the years and will believe until I go to the grave……..Parents aren’t supposed to outlive their children.
It’s been so long since I first met Art that I can’t even remember the circumstances, but you can bet we were sippin’ our beverage of choice and cussin’ and discussin’ whatever the weighty issues of the day were. I’ve never met a finer man. Art Couch is about humility, generosity, honesty, commitment, loyalty, family and any other word you can think of to describe the best of the best. It was never lost on me that a guy brought up in the rough and tumble construction business, where working hard and playing hard went hand in hand, always called his dad, who was W.N. Couch and founded W.N. Couch Utility Construction Company, “Daddy.” And while I don’t know Sylvia nearly as well as I know Art, I know if he picked her, she has many of the same qualities.
It’s beyond reason that a tragedy of this magnitude would take their son Allen’s life at the tender age of 38. Services for Allen have been set for 11:00 am, Friday, March 5, 2010 at St. Pius X Catholic Church, located at 1727 S 75th E Avenue. I only met Allen on one occasion….it figures it would be at a chamber meeting considering how supportive W.N. Couch Utility Construction Company had been towards the organization. Allen leaves behind a wife and three young children.
I’m a simple guy and during times like these I can’t help but ponder why things like this happen. And while I have my reasons, like surviving Vietnam and a bout with Lymphoma Cancer in 1984, to be buoyed by my faith, I can’t help but wonder how I would feel if I were a member of the Couch family at this very moment. Dealing with a tragedy like this is beyond comprehension.
My observation over the years is that the real grieving process doesn’t set in for a while. All the activities required in a situation like this as in arrangements; the notification of family and friends and other details have loved ones operating mostly on adrenalin. Once that drug has worn off and the stark reality of what lies ahead has set in, the weight of finality of the situation has to become almost unbearable. We ask ourselves an ongoing question about what we can do to help our good friends and there is no good answer.
A situation with no appropriate explanation!
See Ya Around the Pond.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
