Jason Bryngelson

The day it happened was the same as any other day. I was cooking dinner. Jason asked me to call him when it was done and went up stairs to his room where I could hear the clanking of his weights, which was nothing unusual. I asked Duane to call Jason for dinner. He called and got no response so he went upstairs to his room. Next I heard him yell at me to “Call 911, Jason is having some kind of seizure.” The nightmare had started, the hell that we were going to be living had started. I kept thinking to myself, “He’s a young, strong kid. He hasn’t been sick at all. I know it’s serious, but he can pull through this.”

Let me tell you who Jason was. He could light up a room with just a smile. He could make you laugh no matter what mood you were in. He would keep after you until you did laugh. So many times I would be upset at him for something and he would keep pushing at me until I couldn’t help but laugh.

He was one of the most giving people, with what he had and of himself. If anyone asked him for help with anything, he was always there.

Jason has a sister, “Chris.” She is 12 years older than him. She always felt the need to protect him. Being her little brother she would always tease him and try to make him mad. The day came when he was taller and bigger than she was. She started with the teasing and he picked her up and tossed her onto the couch. The teasing stopped that day.

Jason and his dad, Duane loved Halloween. Every year, all those different costumes, never knowing what kind of weather they were going to be facing. It could be cold and raining, but that didn’t matter- out they went. What they would do for the all important “candy!”

Jason was always big for his age, but he had such a calm and quiet personality about him, unless he was on the football field all was different. People would always come up to us and ask us how could such a quiet, polite and respectful kid be such a beast on the field, we had no answer.

He tried other sports. He played basketball for a number of years, but when he first started football you could tell he loved it. Jason played for about eight years both offense and defense. He would come home with so many cuts and bruises on him from practice I was afraid to take him anywhere. I was afraid that people might think I was abusing him. They were his “war wounds” as he called them. As we were driving to his first high school game he would be playing under the lights, I remember him telling me, “Tonight I get to play under the lights, if after the game I die I would be complete and happy.”

The other thing he found he liked as much as football was lifting weights. It made him a better football player. His last couple of years of high school, if he wasn’t playing football he was in the weight room lifting weights.

After school was done and football was over, Jason seemed a little lost not knowing what he wanted to do with his life. A friend introduced him to an Army recruiter and, after talking to him, decided he wanted to join the Army. On February 22, 2010, the day Jason was supposed to sign the final paperwork, he passed away. We still don’t understand everything that happened. It also seemed like the doctors didn’t know what had happened.

The day it happened was the same as any other day. I was cooking dinner. Jason asked me to call him when it was done and went up stairs to his room where I could hear the clanking of his weights, which was nothing unusual. I asked Duane to call Jason for dinner. He called and got no response so he went upstairs to his room. Next I heard him yell at me to “call 911, Jason is having some kind of seizure.” The nightmare had started, the hell that we were going to be living had started. I kept thinking to myself, “he’s a young, strong kid. He hasn’t been sick at all. I know it’s serious, but he can pull through this.”

The next morning we found out the doctors wanted to have a discussion with us. Once everyone was there they came in and told us that the Jason we knew was gone, his body was being kept alive by machines. They ran numerous tests and they all came back showing no brain activity. All we could do was cry in disbelief, this should not be happening. Less than 24 hours ago he was standing in front of me talking to me. I thought, “this is my baby, he’s not supposed to go before me. He’s so young and had so many plans for his future.”

We returned to his room, knowing that we had to make a decision about keeping him alive with the machines or turning them off and letting him go. I have never made a more difficult decision in my life, but we needed to do what was best for Jason, so we decided to turn the machines off. He was given a shot for pain. The doctor explained it was given to all patients coming off life support to make sure they’re in no pain at all. I remember how quiet it was in his room. It wasn’t long after the shot was given that they started to back off on the machines until they were completely off. He was gone, I held on to him crying, asking him to open his eyes and come back to me. I’d lost my baby, my son. I didn’t know what to do next. I was completely lost.

The following day, Jason’s very first football coach and good friend came to the house (Jason had kept in touch with him for years after playing for him). He started to inform us about the Concussion Legacy Foundation and the work they do along with Boston University, the testing for brain injuries and trying to find ways to make sports safer to play. He explained to us that they had never had a donor of Jason’s age that had played football as long as he played—Jason always played a lineman, whether it was offense or defense, he was always a lineman. Being a lineman helmets would be crashing almost every play.

We always knew Jason wanted to be an organ donor, but because he had multiple organ failure, most of his major organs could not be used. We were saddened by this but we understood. When we were told about the institute and the work they do we knew right away that this would be something Jason would want. Any way he could help to make the game of football safer—the game he loved to play safer for kids and adults—he would jump at the chance.

Memories…you have good ones and you have bad ones. You find that you remember the good and the bad just float away. You take all the good memories and lock them away in your heart, because that’s all you have left.

Jason touched so many lives and had so many friends. I know we only had him for 19 years, but I thank God every day we had those.

As parents we spend years trying to teach our children the right values in life. You know how they are at home, but how are they are outside the home? We were always told over and over about how polite and caring he was to others, and always so respectful. We know we had one of the best sons anyone could ever ask for. We will always be proud to say we are Jason’s parents.

Being his mom I will sit alone and talk to him knowing he hears me feeling the love in my heart staying strong and growing with every conversation.

He will always have a special part of my heart forever.

We love you for all time,

Mom and Dad

Barrett Callaghan

Son, brother, loyal friend, athlete. Barrett Callaghan had many titles and lived his life with love and compassion for those around him.

Barrett loved sports and was an incredible athlete from an early age; his family even calls him “sports obsessed.” Sports were his life, and he was interested in many of them: baseball, football, basketball, and golf. His level of sports knowledge was unmatched, and he was an athlete for years.

Barrett played baseball from the age of five through the end of high school and he played on his high school’s basketball team during his freshman year. Golf was also a favorite of his and he accomplished his goal of a “hole in one” the year before he passed.

One of Barrett’s favorite sports was football and he fell in love with it at a very early age. As a kindergartner, he watched his older brother play and begged his parents to find a team for him so he could start in first grade. At the age of seven, his football career was launched. Being one of the smaller boys on the team, he quickly discovered using his head was his biggest asset. He played football through high school, where he was a standout player and teammate.

Besides athletics, Barrett, affectionately known as “Bear” and “Bearbo,” was known for his big heart. His love for his family was indescribable and he truly enjoyed gatherings, holidays, and vacations and attending Chicago White Sox games together. His family described his motto as “When in Need, I’m There.” Barrett was the kind of person that protected underdogs and always stood up for anyone in need. He was a loyal friend who always had the back of anyone he knew.

As time went on, his family noticed changes in his demeanor. He had mood swings and moments where he was out of character. His temper was quick and his sleep schedule was very erratic. It didn’t take long to notice that what was happening to him was out of his control.

Barrett struggled with his mental state for years. He went away to college for a couple of years but couldn’t finish. Coming home and attending a local college was his next step.

These changes scared Barrett and he often was embarrassed and remorseful for things he had said or done. His mother recalled a conversation where he begged her, saying, “Mom, please make it stop.” His desperation to figure out what was going on in his brain led him to discover for himself what he was battling. Barrett suspected he may have CTE, and his mother had thought the same.

Barrett passed away on September 26, 2021, in a car accident when a wrong-way driver hit him head on. He was 25 years old at the time and only 10 days shy of turning 26.

Barrett’s family, parents Rich and Jan, and siblings Richie, Mary Caroline, and Catie, donated his brain to the VA-BU-CLF Brain Bank, where he was diagnosed with stage 1 CTE by researchers. His diagnosis was not a surprise and the symptoms he experienced are common among individuals suffering from CTE. His mother said the disease robbed him of his education, ability to hold a full-time job, and his independence.

Even as Barrett’s personality changed, his family recalled that his heart stayed the same and his compassion and love for those around him never wavered. One of his last gifts was to his Aunt Julie. She celebrated her birthday over Labor Day weekend while still recovering from a recent major surgery. Though big outings were still a little overwhelming for her, Barrett insisted they go to a White Sox game together and she agreed. The game did not disappoint, and she said Barrett was the only one who could have convinced her to go. In his final days, Barrett’s profound love was a reminder to his Aunt Julie to always live life to the fullest, just as he always did.

Barrett once said, “In life, I don’t care to make money, I want to make a difference.” That was something he achieved in his lifetime and will continue to do so: his brain donation will contribute to numerous research studies with the goal of identifying CTE in living persons and eventually finding a cure. His story and legacy will continue to live on and impact current and future athletes for generations to come.

Joseph Chernach

 

 

Joseph Chernach traveled to his next journey on June 6, 2012. With his Forest Park Trojan and Green Bay Packer jerseys, his difficulties and struggles with depression finally came to end at the age of 25.

Joseph was a competitive and talented athlete from an early age, playing summer baseball, wrestling since the age of six and throughout high school, a pole vaulter in track, and pop-warner, JV and Varsity football in high school. He won many medals and trophies from grade school through high school.

He was the Michigan High School Upper Peninsula pole vault champion, Michigan High School state wrestling champion, named all U.P class D defensive back, all State class D defensive back, MVP of football along with senior athlete. He was proud to play in the Michigan High school state football finals in 2004 with the Forest Park Trojans.

His greatest accomplishment was graduating with high honors from Forest Park High School in 2005.

He also attended Central Michigan University in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan with plans to graduate with a degree in Physical Therapy.

Joseph was baptized at the Northfield Lutheran Church, Hixton, WI, and confirmed at the United Christ Methodist Church in Crystal Falls, MI. His Facebook page reflects his religious views as “God Loves Me.”

Joseph was fun, active and lived for making people laugh and his sense of humor touched many. He was a fan of the Michigan Wolverines, Milwaukee Brewers and Green Bay Packers. He loved to fish and deer hunt in Wisconsin on the family farm.

Joseph leaves behind many family and friends, father Jeffrey Chernach, mother Debra (Fred) Pyka, brothers Tyler (Michelle) and Seth, sister Nicole, step-sister Samantha, Grandmother Lolly, nieces Braylee and Layla and the Forest Park Class of 2005.

A yearly scholarship has been set-up in his memory.
Joseph Chernach Memorial Scholarship
Forest Park High School
801 Forest Parkway
Crystal Falls, MI 49920

In Joseph’s final few years, he suffered with depression and unable to overcome all the struggles and difficulties with life. CTE was destroying his brain until he could no longer go on with life here. Looking at his headstone in the cemetery is very heartbreaking knowing he is gone. We will never see him graduate college, marry, become a father, and live a happy, healthy and successful life.

We will always wonder what he would have accomplished in his lifetime and we know he will be waiting to see us all again, until that time comes, we are left with the devastation of losing him and living our lives without him. We are all grateful for having him in our lives for almost 26 years. Until we meet again, our love goes with you and our souls wait to join you.

For almost 20 years, the NFL covered up and denied evidence to the connection between brain damage and football. How many people have died from this brain disease whose families are unaware? How much progress could have been made for research, a cure, and the safety and health of everyone had this evidence been made public 20 years ago?

I have contacted the news media, local congressman, senator, representative, the National Federation of High schools and the White House with my son’s story and concerns with sports, head trauma and CTE. The safety and health of our children are at risk. I hope someone will finally listen.

We love you and miss you Joseph and we’ll all be together again one day soon.

We are grateful to the Concussion Legacy Foundation for the research and diagnosis to finally give us the answers to what caused Joseph’s depression and early death. Joseph never played college or pro-sports and we do not know of any concussions during his middle or high school years. This is the report we received from Dr. Ann McKee at the BU CTE Center in December 2013:

“Fixed tissue samples were received from Sacred Heart Pathology Department, Eau Claire, Wisconsin on 9/6/12. There were no obvious abnormalities. However, microscopic analysis of the tissue revealed considerable pathological tau deposits as neurofibrillary tangles throughout the frontal brain regions. There were also very severe changes in the brainstem, with numerous tau neurofibrillary tangles in the locus coeruleus, an area of the brain thought to play a role in mood regulation and depression. The changes in the frontal lobes and locus coeruleus were the most severe I’ve seen in a person this age. These findings indicate Stage II, possibly Stage III (with Stage IV being most severe) CTE and are particularly noteworthy, given the young age of the subject.”

Read more about Joseph and his story from his parents and BuzzFeed News.

Steven Dudowitz

Jim Proebstle, author of Unintended Impact, sat down with the family of Steven Dudowitz to gain insight into his life and legacy.

Steven Dudowitz: A Tragic Story

The story begins

As an outstanding offensive tackle for Lincoln High School in Brooklyn, NY, considered to be the perennial favorite football program in New York City, Steve’s journey is different. After graduating, “the Dude” as he was called, continued playing at Geneva College (formerly Beaver College) in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania. At 6 foot 1 inch and 200 pounds, Steve was not your stereotypical offensive tackle and was put on the coach’s watch list for players who were too thin. He worked his way up to the second string, only to develop knee problems, which was his undoing for playing football his sophomore year. According to Boston University’s School of Medicine Clinical Report, Steve experienced six concussions, but no one really kept track of how many times you got your bell rung back then. With today’s knowledge of the damage incurred by repetitive nonconcussive blows to the head and the lack of sideline safety protocols for concussions in the 70’s, it’s hard to estimate the extent of impairment done to the brain.

A successful career interrupted

Steve developed a thriving career in the securities industry starting in 1979 in a classic style. He started in the mailroom. For the next 37 years Steve continued to assume additional responsibilities through job promotions, company changes and various mergers. The dedication and compassion he showed to those who worked for him was unparalleled. Yet, the fairy tale story wasn’t quite what it appeared to be. Control issues presented themselves. An under the radar substance abuse and alcohol issue contributed to a substantial weight gain to over 300 pounds. The corporate move in 1999 to Switzerland was partly designed for him to get back on track, as he seemed lost and unfocused by those who knew him best. In parallel, his first marriage came to an end.

In 2001, he met Juliette. They bought a house in 2003, had their only daughter, Stephanie, in 2004 and made it official by getting married in 2009. Along with Alexia, Juliette’s daughter from a previous marriage, they began a new life—no drugs, no alcohol—yet the job stresses continued to mount. His personality started to unravel, moments of extreme irritation and anger boiled over as an apparent loss of control led to OCD mannerisms in the strangest of circumstances. Erratic behaviors continued to worsen over time with noticeable memory issues in his mid-fifties. Steve closed down and began spending hours on end in his man-cave, by himself. His participation in the marriage was stunted and initial requests to see a psychologist were categorically rejected. Everything bothered him.

Mysterious changes

In October, 2014, it seemed as if Steve’s brain just flipped. Maybe the new company merger had an impact, but judgement and fault-finding became a normal part of many discussions, almost always over trivial events. Memory issues increased. Lifelong friends were dropped for no apparent reason. Juliette was struggling to understand what was happening with Steve with the sudden increase in financial challenges, credit card irregularities, spending splurges, strange disinhibitive behaviors, depression, anxiety, divorce threats, impulsivity, and explosive rages. Everything was coming at Juliette rapid fire with no reasonable explanation—the wheels were off. He was becoming more difficult to deal with as their lives took different paths. Juliette made up her mind to stick by Steve but he was no longer himself and she just didn’t know what to do. He was making comments about being in a bad place, about not knowing what’s wrong and, in general, about feeling strange and different. It was at this time that he agreed to finally go to seek therapy. Maybe he wasn’t having a mid-life crisis. Maybe he was sick.

It was during the movie, Concussion, with Steve and their daughters, Stephanie and Alexia, that Juliette made the connection with chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) and Steve’s quickly devolving circumstances. Steve responded by looking at Juliette as if she were crazy..

Taupoathy: Closure… maybe

Steven had his heart attack on 5/12/16 and died on 6/13/16 while in hospice care. Juliette decided to contact Patrick Kiernan at Boston University School of Medicine CTE Center in order to donate Steve’s brain for research. The family received a different diagnosis from what they expected, however. The Clinical Report identified a neurodegenerative diagnosis called tauopathy. Related to CTE, tauopathy is somewhat different based on the unique deposition of neurofibrillary tangles. The unique findings in Steve’s brain opens a new door for future research as other cases are discovered. It would appear that the destructive path of concussions is not limited to a single answer (CTE) that could be made into a movie. The family is entering a new and frustrating world in search of more answers to connect the dots between Steven’s life and his untimely death.

Copyright © 2017, James Proebstle

 

Troy Ellis

Warning: This story contains mentions of suicide and may be triggering to some readers.

Troy Ellis had a big presence and an infectious personality. He was very handsome and charismatic. The boy could dance too, and he was the life of the party. He was often told how much he looked like Channing Tatum. Troy thought he could play Channing’s younger brother in a movie. He would say, “If I was given a dollar for every time someone told me I looked like Channing, I’d be a millionaire.” He was fun, energetic, lovable, and loved by many. He recited lines from movies on a regular basis, especially from the movie Forrest Gump, which always produced lots of laughs.

Troy Boy was a natural athlete, showing his abilities very early on in his life. He couldn’t even walk yet but was always reaching for a ball of some sort. When he was two years old, he received a baseball and glove as gifts. He slept with them and called it his “glub.” His older sister, Lauren, was also very athletic. I knew, as well as their father, that we were going to spend a great deal of our lives watching them play sports. They were talented and eager to compete. They made each other better and there were fights along the way. Both were voted “Most Athletic” by their peers in high school. His sister was his hero. Troy was Lauren’s best person and stood up for her when she was married.

Troy played soccer, basketball, baseball, and of course, football, which he started in the fifth grade. He played for the storied Massillon Tigers in Massillon, Ohio. Football is close to godliness in Massillon. Troy loved the game. You are somebody when you are a Massillon Tiger. Little kids looked up to him and wanted his autograph. He was a three-year starter and never missed a game, playing cornerback, wide receiver, and punt returner. He was second team All-Ohio his senior year and was on the All-Stark County Team. He played in the Big 33 game in Hershey, Pennsylvania in 2006. He was a one-man highlight reel his senior year against Cincinnati Elder at the Cincinnati Bengals stadium. He had five interceptions in this one game (a record for the Massillon Tigers) while also recovering a fumble and returning it for a touchdown. He was named the game’s MVP.

Troy was known as a hard hitter and received the Bob Cummings Hardnose Award his senior year as voted on by members of the Massillon Tiger Booster Club. Former NFL player Chris Spielman also won the same award in the past. Troy received many accolades in the sports he played and he earned them all.

As his mother, I always thought baseball was Troy’s best sport. He was a four-year varsity starter in high school, the first at Massillon since 1975. He played second base and then shortstop. He played for the Stark County Stars in summer ball. A local reporter said, “Troy is the epitome of a leadoff hitter.” He went on to play shortstop at a junior college, Olney Central College in Illinois, for two years. While at Olney, he played a game at Busch Stadium. He also played Class A ball in Kentucky and played for the Canton Terriers.

Troy had a son, Ashton, who was 10 at the time of Troy’s death. Troy and Ashton’s mother were no longer together, but he would get Ashton nearly every weekend. He enjoyed teaching him about baseball, football, and basketball. He installed a basketball hoop in his basement for Ashton. They would go fishing, golfing, roller skating, and played laser tag. He also shared his love of music and dancing with his son. Several years ago, Troy bought Ashton a pair of LeBron’s shoes in a large size that he has yet to grow into.

Troy was employed as a third generation plumber and pipefitter out of Local 94 in Canton, Ohio. His coworkers loved working with him. He also helped coach a middle school girls’ basketball team and was often known to lend a helping hand to others.

Troy had multiple head traumas from a young age. He fell out of a wagon and hit the back of his head on the cement floor. He fell off the side of the basement steps. He rode his bike down the deck steps. The front wheel came off of his bike and he fell face first into the sidewalk. The worst head injury was when he fell out of a tree at age eight and had a brain bleed. That was the worst day of my life, until the day he died. He was in the ICU for three days and in the hospital for a week. In time, he recovered and was cleared to continue playing sports. Additionally, he took a nasty pitch to the left side of his face while playing college baseball.

I would say around 2014 is when we started noticing changes in Troy’s behavior. He was very forgetful, erratic, angry, and engaged in risky and impulsive behavior. He started to struggle with life in general, including with money and getting in trouble with the law. He had relationship issues with family members, friends, and with women. In hindsight, I don’t think he was capable of settling down due to the CTE. I was so worried about him all the time. By 2020, the only thing predictable about Troy was his unpredictability.

In the early morning hours of December 26, 2021, Troy was believed to be the person who started a fire at his girlfriend’s home. The house was destroyed but fortunately no one was home at the time. Several hours later I received a call to go check on him. I did and he was distraught like I had never seen him before. He would not let me in the house. Shortly thereafter, he shot himself in the chest. As he was being loaded into the ambulance, he told me he was sorry. I could not see where he had been wounded but asked him if he was OK. He said, “I’m gone.” He told the paramedic to tell me he was sorry, that he loved me and this wasn’t my fault. He made the paramedic promise to tell me. Troy died three hours later. We did not get a chance to see or talk to him again.

The Massillon Tiger Community honored him after his death. Bracelets were made and sold with his football number on them and engraved “#28 Forever T.E.” Baseball hats were made with his number, as well as jerseys with a picture of Troy on the inside of the back of the neck. This way, Troy could “have their back.” Family members started a crowdfunding and all of the funds are being held for his son. The person at the mall who made the hats said, “We have made so many of these hats in memory of Troy Ellis. He must have been someone very special.”

I need to emphasize that I am not attempting to glorify Massillon Tiger football. I’m simply telling a true story about my son and his history of being a Tiger. Massillon football fans tend to over glorify their players. The kids are put on a pedestal and it’s just too much at times. The players in this program are more revered than those at most college programs. Many players have gone on to college and it has been a big letdown for them. I look at football through a totally different lens now.

After Troy’s death, his brain was donated to the UNITE Brain Bank, where researchers diagnosed him with stage 1 (of 4) CTE. Had I known more about CTE, I would never have allowed him to play football. I have learned so much more about CTE and the devastating consequences it brings. I would never advise anyone to play football, or any sport suspected of causing CTE. His glory days turned into his gory days because of CTE. Simply put, the glory days were not worth it. I strongly urge parents to do their own research into CTE and make wise choices for their children, including supporting CLF’s Stop Hitting Kids in the Head. I certainly wish that I had. It’s too late for me now.

Troy said to me, later in life, “Football is a violent game, played by violent men.” After he passed, we were told that Troy had shared with others that he had “demons in his head and he was scared for himself.” He also said there was something wrong between his ears. He never shared that information with us.

We are all devastated and continue to carry a heavy load of grief, and the guilt that comes along when a loved one takes their own life. We love and miss him constantly.

Suicide is preventable and help is available. If you are concerned that someone in your life may be suicidal, the five #BeThe1To steps are simple actions anyone can take to help someone in crisis. If you are struggling to cope and would like some emotional support, call the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 to connect with a trained counselor. It’s free, confidential, and available to everyone in the United States. You do not have to be suicidal to call.

Are you or someone you know struggling with lingering concussion symptoms? We support patients and families through the CLF HelpLine, providing personalized help to those struggling with the outcomes of brain injury. Submit your request today and a dedicated member of the Concussion Legacy Foundation team will be happy to assist you.

 

Andrew Erker

The morning of January 11, 2017 started out just like any other morning. Andrew got out of bed early to send me off to work with a big hug, kiss, an “I love you” and his typical, “Whatever you do today, just be a good person.”

Andrew’s number one priority in life was to be a good person regardless of the circumstance. He never failed to live up to that standard he set for himself. I would always receive a text late morning just to check in and see how my day was going. Not hearing from him at all that day in January made me a little uneasy. Driving home from work that night I knew in my gut something was very wrong. Andrew died by suicide earlier that day in our home.

This horrific tragedy came as a massive shock. Surely that wasn’t him. It didn’t make sense. Andrew had such a love for family, his friends and me. His enthusiasm for life, nature and wildlife was unmatched. He would light up a room with his smile. Andrew was the most selfless man I had ever known. His intentions to make everyone happy and be a better version of themselves were as pure as they come.

Something in his brain was not right that day and hadn’t been for a long time. Andrew was not the type to complain or ask for help. He refused to burden or worry anyone. He wanted to do it all himself and was determined to do so. I believe he suffered internally for longer than I knew or could ever imagine. Andrew’s sense of humor was one of his best qualities. He was constantly making everyone around him smile and laugh. For as long as I knew him he would joke about football messing up his brain. He believed it made him “stupid” even though he was thriving at work and nothing about his daily life made it seem like he was missing a beat. Joking about it I believe was his way of trying to tell me something wasn’t quite right without making me worry. When Andrew and I started talking about having a family his number one rule was that our kids would not play football. It was becoming clear to me that he was truly worried about the toll football took on his brain.

Andrew and I met at a bar in Kansas City in 2014. I was 22, still in nursing school and he was 27 living in Lincoln, Nebraska. He was home for a weekend and out with friends when we met. From the moment I met him I knew he was incredibly special and early on we both knew it was meant to be. He moved back to Kansas City the following year and we were married in April of 2016. Nine months later he was gone.

Andrew played tackle football from the time he was a child through his college career at Kansas State University, where he played safety. Andrew was not the biggest player on the field, but he was tough and known for his hard hits. I believe Andrew suffered several undiagnosed concussions during his time playing football. He told me about several games he didn’t remember after playing in them and times where he just didn’t feel quite right after games.

A few months before he died, I started noticing the forgetfulness. He couldn’t recall certain conversations or plans we made. Towards the very end of his life he became more irritable and his patience was diminishing. Although his anger seemed to be heightened in the last couple weeks of his life, I do feel as though his emotions were fairly well controlled. It seemed as though Andrew was somehow able to mask many of the typical signs and symptoms of CTE.

Andrew’s family and I decided right away to donate his brain based on his football history and his recent behavior. Andrew was always helping others so when donation became an option I knew he would jump at the chance to try and help save someone else’s life. Boston University was an obvious choice for us, and I could not be more grateful for how we were treated and supported during this incredibly difficult time. I felt as though Andrew was respected and appreciated by the researchers from the UNITE Brain Bank from day one. Seven months after he died, Andrew was diagnosed with Stage 3 (of 4) CTE. We were all shocked to see such advanced disease in a 30-year-old.

I want people reading Andrew’s story to understand the dangers and possible effects playing tackle football as a young child can have on your brain and your life. I want people to know that CTE can happen to anyone with a history of repeated head impacts like Andrew had. Choosing to put your child in tackle football at a young age could end up destroying their life and leaving their loved ones completely devastated. I know Andrew would have much rather sacrificed his football career for his life than his life for his football career.

I feel incredibly lucky to have fallen in love with a man who I know fought like hell against an uncontrollable brain disease to protect his friends and family.

__________________________________________________________

Suicide is preventable and help is available. If you are concerned someone in your life may be suicidal, the five #BeThe1To steps are simple actions anyone can take to help someone in crisis. If you are struggling to cope and would like some emotional support, call the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 to connect with a trained counselor. It’s free, confidential, and available to everyone in the United States.

Are you or someone you know struggling with lingering concussion symptoms? We support patients and families through the CLF HelpLine, providing personalized help to those struggling with the outcomes of brain injury. Submit your request today and a dedicated member of the Concussion Legacy Foundation team will be happy to assist you.