Grieving Across the Hockey Community

Our youngest son has played roller and ice hockey for most of his life. He started at 4 or 5 years old, and he is still playing at 26. He played House League, Travel Hockey, High School hockey, College Hockey and now Men's League. He won State and National Championships during all of those years. Our boy was a very good player and as he was getting older we, like every parent of a hockey player, had to assess their ability, their odds of a future of making a living at the sport, and what you as a parent are willing to invest financially and emotionally. Hockey is not like many other sports where you can find a team or facility at almost every school in every city. Ice rinks are few and far between and there are so many teams fighting for ice time. Some High School teams are on the ice at 5 AM just to get practice time. This is why some parents send their kids to cities in the US or Canada to tryout and play on Junior teams. This can also mean sending your young teenager to a different city, state, or country, and have them stay with host families.

On April 6th in Canada the Homboldt Junior Hockey team of 16 to 20 year olds were traveling on a bus to a hockey play-off game when they were t-boned by a semi-tractor trailer. Of the 29 people on the bus (players, coaches, staff and bus driver), 16 people were killed and 13 were injured. One of the hardest things to do as a hockey parent is to put your kid on a bus, or know your kid is on a bus going to play a game that you may not be able to attend. I did not have to experience this until our son went to college. All his years of hockey until college he was driven to almost all of his games by his parents and we attended almost every game he played. Then there was college hockey and things changed. He was hundreds of miles away and we were not able to attend all his games, and he was on a bus or team van many weekends during hockey season in the harsh Midwest winters.

My husband and I were in Indiana while he played for his Missouri college, and we were in Virginia and Texas when he played for his Ohio college. We went to as many games as possible while he played in Missouri, but far less when he started playing in Ohio. The fear of the bus drive was not the only worry, there was always the fear he would get hurt and there wouldn't be one of us there for him. We had the calls and texts while he was on the bus, and we got updates from our son on the weather and the drive. His girlfriend would attend most of the home games, so she was there for him and would update us on how he was doing.

When our son was playing high school hockey, a friend and brother of one of the boys he played roller hockey with, was playing ice hockey for a Chicago"Junior" team in a game in Michigan when he fell and hit the boards and broke two vertebrae in this neck. He is a now a paraplegic. As a parent in this boy's hockey community we were all devastated. The one thing I know I was grateful for in that tragedy was that his Mom was with him at that game. He was not alone.

Then early in the season of our son's Junior year of college he was playing a game in Northern Ohio, and we had just moved to Texas, when I got that call. My husband was out of town on business and I was home alone when my cell phone rang and it was my son's coach telling me he was hurt on the ice and he was being taken by ambulance to the hospital. My heart dropped. His coach asked if I wanted to talk to him and I did, my son tried to reassure me he was going to be OK, he had just broken his arm. "Just" broken his arm. They sent me a cell phone photo of him being put in the ambulance and then one of his crooked arm from the hospital. The first thing I wanted to do was get on a plane and go to him. I did not want him to be alone. Of course it was not realistic, but being a parent is not always reacting in a rational manor. His coach stayed with him in the hospital, he went home in the team van and his teammate stayed with him all night. My sister drove 90 minutes the next morning to take him to the hospital in his home town to get his arm set and and wrapped, she got him settled at his apartment, and I was on the phone with them through the whole thing. I am grateful for the support of his coach, teammates, and his Aunt for stepping in when I could not. More of that close knit hockey family.

As a parent that received that long distance call that my child was"only" hurt playing the sport he loves, my heart aches for the parents of those boys killed in the bus accident in Canada.  Because the youth hockey community is close knit, you feel like you have a bond with the parents of the team you are playing, no matter where you are. We all know the struggle that each parent of a older player goes through to balance their child's dream with raising a well rounded and successful young adult. We try to give them space and independence along with making sure they are supervised and safe. This accident is a reminder to hug our kids a little longer when we send them off on that bus and always tell them that you love them. They are never too old or independent to be reminded of your love.

This is not the first tragedy involving a sports team, and I dare say it will not be the last. When it does happen all parents feel, "That there but for the Grace of God, go I." No parent should live in fear of getting that phone call, but I am sure we all still do.