by Shey Stahl
And then he sent another message.
We have a plane waiting when you’re ready. Your sister and Alley had everything handled.
I knew what that meant. Lily would be in no shape to deal with anything, so after last night in the hospital, I had dad arrange to have Jack taken home with us.
I didn’t know what I would do without my family. They were there for me through it all, text message after message, letting me know if I needed anything they could handle it.
After an hour of lying in bed, Lily turned to look at me about the time Jonah sat up in bed and looked around. “Where’s Jack, daddy?”
Of course he wanted to know that. Jack was his big brother who he looked up to in every way.
And he was gone.
Forever.
At the mention of Jack’s name, Lily burst into tears. I didn’t know what to do so I grabbed Jacen from her when she ran to the bathroom.
And then I was sitting there with two kids looking at me curiously. Should I tell them?
When Lily was behind the closed door, my cell phone rang and my mom’s number flashed on the screen. With my eyes still on the boys, I swiped the screen to answer. “Hey, Ma.”
She greeted me with a soft sniffle and with crack to her tone. “Do you guys need anything?”
I stared at my kids. “Can you take the boys to get some food?”
“Yeah, we can.”
Mom and Dad were just a few rooms down from us and were there within a minute. I grabbed both the boys’ Jacket and Jacen’s diaper bag, gave them both extra-long hugs and opened the door to the room. Thankfully, they didn’t ask any more questions about Jack or why their mom was crying in the bathroom.
Once they saw my mom, they forgot about all that.
“Grandma!” Jonah jumped for her.
Handing the bag to Mom, I kept one hand on Jonah and then watched as his hand slipped out of mine. For some reason, that image—him letting go of my hand—brought a rush of emotion back, made my body shake and my heart race with wildness, pounding in my chest.
Mom sensed it and yanked me into a tight hug as both boys ran toward my dad standing at the end of the hall.
“We’ll be downstairs in the restaurant,” she whispered, her hands tight around my neck.
I let her hold me there for a moment. There was something about a hug from your mom. I don’t care how old you are, it was needed at times and had the ability to bring a person right back to being a child and hoping just the scent of your mother would take away the pain.
While that wasn’t going to happen, there was some relief in that moment.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched my dad in the hall. He kept his head down, his eyes on the boys at his feet.
I knew why he didn’t come down here and say anything to me. He saw first-hand, in his hands, my son take his very last breath. It was traumatic for all of us, but he held him in his hands. He’d tried to save him but couldn’t.
“I love you.” The emotion in Mom’s voice cracked her words.
“Love…” My hands trembled, my eyes falling to the dark green carpet. “…you, too.”
She stepped back, her hands on my shoulders, waiting for me to look at her.
Jonah’s laughter caused her to turn toward him and take another step back.
After a beat, I said, “I’m going to go check on Lily.”
Mom waved me off. “Go, I’ll take the boys.”
A stabbing pain shot through me at the first thought I had. I hadn’t taken care of Jack. That’s why he was gone right now. I should have been there.
Mom immediately knew where my mind went. “Don’t blame yourself, honey.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Now go check on Lily.”
I gave another nod and took one more look at my boys. The thought, the scene I was met with reminded me of that last time I looked at Jack on the four-wheeler, his eyes so bright, smile so wide and excited.
When I closed the door behind me, I heard the shower running and decided to give her a few minutes alone.
But when those few minutes turned into another twenty, I went inside the bathroom to find her on the floor of the shower, curled into a ball.
I didn’t wait. I climbed in there fully clothed.
How did this happen?
How did we go from having everything to this void?
Lily hesitated at my touch, moving away from it at first. Kicking my legs out, I sat with my back to the wall and pulled her naked body against my chest. My head lolled back against the tile and I stared up at the spray, our bodies trembling. I felt the instant she gave in and let me hold her, the weight of her body sinking into mine with a heavy shaking breath.
I understood her pain, the desperate hope she was clinging to that this wasn’t true.
“Make the pain stop,” she cried, over and over again.
Make it stop.
I wanted to.
I desperately wanted to.
My son was gone. Nothing I did, said, or felt was going to bring him back. He was just gone.
I didn’t know loss until I loved someone more than myself and had them taken from me.
That was devastation.
That was loss.
Lily
Backfire – A backfire is an explosion produced by an engine that occurs in the induction system rather than inside the combustion chamber. Unburned fuel or hydrocarbons ignited from a slower burning, lean fuel air mixture that is still burning inside the cylinder when the intake valve opens.
LEAVING JACK IN THAT hospital, alone, was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I thought of him lying on the metal table with no one there to hold him. It didn’t matter that he was merely a body. I couldn’t comprehended that he was gone and therefore leaving him didn’t seem right.
When we left the hospital that morning, they said we could take his clothes. The bloody clothes they cut from his body, like that would somehow make it better.
I didn’t want his clothes. I wanted him.
The next day everything was a blur. I didn’t want to talk or see anyone. Eating was impossible. Even so much as taking a shower seemed like something I couldn’t do.
I couldn’t look at Axel.
I looked at Jonah and cried.
I looked at Jacen and cried.
I cried. Non-stop.
I couldn’t sleep.
But eventually, in the days that followed, my body gave out and I did. Every time I woke up, my first thought was Jack. The memory stuck in my head was one of him as a newborn and Axel and I were sitting with him, staring at this creation we made. Together. It seemed so unreal that we made another human when we were so young. I was nineteen when I had Jack, a baby myself in many ways.
The tears returned thinking of that day, and the finality of today.
Everyone knew I was in no condition to handle anything. After my breakdown as I stared at the program, my mom called my doctor to get me some anxiety medication and anti-depressants. They seemed to take the edge off, but I knew nothing was taking this sadness away.
Nothing ever would.
I couldn’t even face Axel or look at him.
Every time I looked at him, I saw Jack. If I even glanced at Axel, I would break again.
In a lot of ways, I hated him. He knew how I felt about having the boys in the pits. And though I never stopped it over the years, I was never comfortable with it.
My world stopped that night. There was a black hole inside me I was afraid would never heal.
In the days that followed the accident, no one knew what to say to me and when they did speak, it hurt knowing they were trying, yet nothing they said was going to make it better. If anything, their words gutted me even more, hearing them talk about Jack like he wasn’t here anymore. And then it really hit me that he wasn’t.
He was gone.
Forever.
Why did I only get seven years with him?
There was a name for when you lost your husband.
You were a wid
ow.
There was also a name for you when you lost your parents.
You were an orphan.
Why was there not a name for you when you lost a child?
Maybe it was because the loss was so great that there was no word to describe it.
There was nothing left of you to name.
Just weeks ago, I was registering him for second grade yet now, I was staring at the spot where he would be laid to rest.
People told me it was possible to survive the loss of a child, it would become easier. That I am stronger than I realized, but was I? Were we?
Can you really survive the unimaginable?
Jameson
Cylinder Head - The top "half" of the engine, and the part of the engine responsible for the ‘breathing’. The cylinder head sits on top of the engine block, and contains the engine valves, and often the camshafts, as well.
MY DAD ONCE TOLD ME, and this advice became legendary over the years,
It’s hard to see past the speed when you’re going two-hundred miles per hour.
Those words were never truer than they were now, when our world had come to a complete halt. Now, we were forced to see what was right in front of us, grief, loss, devastation. It was one long unescapable moment I couldn’t get out of.
The headlines a few days after the accident were enough to make me physically sick.
They wanted to say how dangerous our sport was and that it should be illegal to have kids in the pits. The fact of the matter was¸ he was out of the way of the track and it was a freak accident. No one could have predicted it was that would have happened.
Who was to say he couldn’t have been hit by a car walking down the street? That happened all the time, but because it was a race car, people went crazy and placed the blame on the sport.
So if I were to die in a car accident, people would still drive cars. They wouldn’t outlaw them.
But if I died inside of a race car, they wanted to ban them and put restrictions on everything.
People were so fucking ignorant. They also wanted someone, or something to place the blame on.
Sometimes you couldn’t. Shit just happened.
Within a day, we were getting reports that tracks all over the states had immediately implemented new rules to the pits. No kids under sixteen allowed while cars were on the track. If they were racing a premier show, like the Outlaws, anyone under sixteen had to be in the stands before cars could be on the track. It would certainly make it hard on the families traveling with young kids.
Tracks Around The Country Ban Children From Pits
Should The Parents Be Held Responsible For The Death Of Their Son?
Legendary Family Is Rocked By Death Of Grandson
Those were the headlines we read the next day. I couldn’t imagine what Axel and Lily were thinking and thank God, neither one of them had turned on the television or looked at their phones or Twitter. I knew for a fact they shut them off.
What pissed me off was that people were already forgetting him and labeling him as my grandson or Axel’s son. He was a child. Jack Anthony Riley. He had his own personality, things he liked, things he hated, a passion.
And if all that wasn’t enough, ESPN was covering it. I wanted to avoid all of it, but it was on every channel.
“The incident at Cottage Grove Speedway claimed the life of Jameson Riley’s six-year old grandson, Jack Riley, a third generation racer from Mooresville, North Carolina.”
I sighed, staring at the television mounted above our fireplace and tossed the remote on the table. “They can’t even get his fucking age right.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I looked at the newspaper. Two days had passed since the accident and I knew there would be a story printed.
September 5, 2029 – Mooresville, North Carolina
Quarter midget driver, Jack Riley, 6, died Monday after succumbing to injuries in a crash at Cottage Grove Speedway, where he was a spectator in the pits.
Alley Riley, a PR Representative for the family, confirmed Riley’s death to FOX Sports.
Riley, from Charlotte, NC, was pronounced dead at Cottage Grove Community Hospital Monday night.
Riley suffered serious injuries while watching his father and grandfather during the main event at Sunday’s World of Outlaws race at Cottage Grove Speedway in Oregon, according to the Associated Press.
Investigators said the number fourteen of Stevie Shaver had been experiencing problems during the early laps of the race when his throttle became stuck. Officials say the car swerved to miss a crowd of people watching in the pits and instead went the direction of a 4-wheeler where Jack was watching with his uncle, and family friend, Tommy Davis, just outside turn four. Davis was later transported to a local hospital, along with the driver of the number fourteen car, Stevie Shaver, where they are both listed in stable condition.
Though Jack was a spectator that night, he was fresh off a .25 Midget win at Cerro Gordo where he broke the track record. Riley raced a signature black No. 9, a replica of his grandfathers, legendary NASCAR champion and current World of Outlaws champion Jameson Riley. USAC Representative, Ty Hemming, said his family is mourning the loss of not only a spirited little boy, but one who had a true talent for the sport.
“We’ve lost a memorable little boy,” Hemming said tearfully in a statement. “We are so saddened by the loss of an unforgettable member of our racing community.”
Riley first started racing quarter midgets at age four, much like his father, Axel Riley, and grandfather. Since then, racing was all he’s ever known and he could usually be found in the pits following his father.
The crash is under investigation, though witnesses have reported that it’s an unfortunate event.
Funeral services will be held in a private ceremony.
I took a moment to wipe the tears from my eyes once again when Emma walked into the kitchen and placed a sheet of paper in front of me.
“It’s the obituary. I really hate to have them look at this, but we’ll need to put something out there since it’s gone public,” Emma said with red-rimmed puffy eyes holding a sorrow I’d never seen in them before, even when our dad passed away.
Maybe because when he was taken, I never saw our family like this. I was out of it. Or maybe, it was because this loss seemed so unimaginable. So cruel. So…unnecessary.
Looking down at the paper, I prepared myself to read my grandson’s obituary. Only there was no preparing for this and I was right back in the pits, like I was holding him again. Those images from that night would never leave me. Ever. They replayed when I least expected it and haunted the deepest parts of my brain.
Jack Anthony Riley
7 years old, of Mooresville, NC, passed away Monday night, September 3, 2029. Jack was born August 18, 2022, the son of Axel Charles Riley and Lily Anne West Riley. Jack loved racing, competed in the USAC .25 Next Gen class. He was just one race away from being crowned the series champion having won six of the last thirteen races, including, just a week prior to his death in New Castle, Delaware, where he broke the track record.
Jack was a happy little boy with a bright smile and shocking blue eyes.
He was survived by his parents of Mooresville, NC, his younger brothers, Jonah and Jacen Riley, paternal grandparents, Jameson and Sway Riley of Mooresville, NC; maternal grandparents, Justin and Ami West of Bloomington, IN; his uncle Casten Riley of Mooresville, NC; an aunt, Arie Levi and her husband, Easton Levi; and cousin, Gray Riley. He was preceded in death by his paternal great grandfathers, Jimi Riley and Charles Reins, and his maternal great grandmother, Vicki West.
Funeral arrangements have been made, but are closed to the public.
There was a pain in this world that would never touch another pain. It didn’t even come close.
A child’s death.
Our family would never be the same again. This changed us all. Sure, we’d experienced heartache, but never like this.
This could destroy us forever. I felt it looking a
t everyone. No one wanted to lose a child. It was unimaginable and avoided in conversation. When you heard about them dying, you thought, those poor parents, and then immediately, you couldn’t imagine what they’re going through.
Until it happened to you.
The friction it put on everyone was the hardest. It created an anger impossible to control, bled a hatred difficult to stop.
But if we collapsed as a family, we wouldn’t be honoring Jack’s memory. Collapsing seemed selfish to me.
Everyone wanted to tell us that things happened for a reason. Well, fuck them! This shit should never fucking happen. Kids weren’t supposed to die.
I had no idea what to say to Axel and one look at him that morning, I knew he didn’t want to hear anything I was going to say to him. He didn’t want to hear from anyone.
THE NEXT DAY, Alley and Emma started planning the funeral for Lily and Axel. It was then that we decided that having helmets line the top of his casket was what Jack would have wanted. He would have said, “That’s so cool!”
We wanted to have all of them up there but sadly, he was small so only four helmets would fit. So we chose his favorite: one of Jimi’s with the American flag on it, mine, Axel’s and the helmet his parents gave him for his seventh birthday.
Four generations of drivers.
I thought of him right then, in my father’s arms, watching us and smiling. The thought provided comfort in a time when I really just wanted to mourn the loss of my grandson.
The morning of the funeral, I was down at the lake sitting on the dock when Sway approached me, wearing the same despondent countenance everyone was.
She said nothing, but came to sit on my lap. Her arms wrapped around my neck tightly. We sat in silence, until her lips pressed tenderly to my temple, her tears flowing again.
