By Bryan Painter
Bryan Painter
GUTHRIE — We hear about it unfortunately way too often — a child dies.
Sometimes it's the result of a crime, sometimes an accident, sometimes an illness, sometimes suicide.
Regardless, it's hard to take.
When I see these stories I often think of one young man —
Tyler Blount.
He was so full of life when I met him. I couldn't have comprehended him losing his life so quickly.
He would have been 25 last Wednesday. I'm so sorry I have to use those words "would have been.” And I'm so sorry so many of you have to do the same when speaking of a child, family member or friend.
On a June night in 2000 in Enid,
Tyler Blount whipped under a saddle bronc horse at the
Oklahoma High School Rodeo Association Finals. He was kicked in the head and suffered fatal injuries.
I admitted to his parents, Pat and
Vicki Blount — as I have to other parents who have suffered the horrible loss of a child — that I hope I never go through what they've experienced. Does this anger them? No, it's honest. Each time, a parent has replied something to the effect of "I hope you never do either.”
However, the reason I do these stories is to remind us of who the person was in life and why he or she should be missed and not forgotten. But I also tell the stories shared by family and friends in hopes the stories will help others who have or will suffer such a loss.
That's what this column is about.
It's not to say that the way Pat and
Vicki Blount of Guthrie have gone about mourning is the only way or the perfect way. It's their way.
I met the Blounts weeks before the tragic ride and was at the rodeo where Tyler was injured and at the hospital where he died.
I knew him for a short time but have thought about him for years. So I thought I'd ask his parents about how they've dealt with the loss of their middle son.
"If people mourned the same, it probably wouldn't be good,” Vicki said.
"I went into myself and mourned. When I was down I could go to him.”
However, her husband got busy with activities, including the creation of the
Tyler Blount Memorial Foundation.
Pat said in looking back, what he was trying to do is what men often do: "I tried to fix it.”
He realized he couldn't fix it — this wasn't a vehicle or appliance.
"It doesn't have to tear a family apart,” she said. "I saw stats that 70 percent of marriages in this situation end up in divorce. So I share. Nobody knows how I feel more than my husband.”
But that doesn't mean she relied on Pat alone. On this Easter Sunday and every day, Her faith in God is extremely important.
"You have to dig down and find strength and know that God will be by your side,” she said. "And you think, maybe something good will come of it.”
Now while Vicki pinpoints dates as her roughest times, Pat said his toughest days are more general.
"You have that moment, and you don't get to pick it,” he said. "My moments are more when I'm by myself. It's when I'm riding in the pasture by myself.”
However, the Blounts realized that this tragedy affected more than just their family. And because of that they had some tough decisions to make.
Tyler's friends came around not long after his death and asked Pat to come to the International Finals Youth Rodeo in Shawnee.
He decided to go, one, because they asked and they were hurting and two, because he felt he needed to go to a rodeo.
"I needed to go to a rodeo and see someone buck off a horse and get up and go home,” he said.
Don't misinterpret that to mean that solved all the hurt.
In fact, he asked
Clyde Frost about that. Frost's son
Lane Frost was killed at age 25 after riding a bull in Cheyenne, Wyo., in July 30, 1989.
"I asked Clyde, ‘When does it stop hurting?'” Pat remembers. "He said, ‘Never.'”
So, they cope.
And here's a good example of that.
Each Christmas, the Blounts had stocking stuffers.
"I broke down that first Christmas when I put his up and realized I didn't need to put stocking stuffers in it,” she said.
"I started writing a letter to him, about a page long, and sticking it in there.
"I just tell him in the letter how much I love him.”
