1991 Accident - Smotherman of Burien, WA
Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 11:21 am
http://community.seattletimes.nwsource. ... ug=1284298
`It's Just A Real Miracle' -- Smotherman Making Remarkable Recovery After Vaulting Accident
By Sandy Ringer
-- SEATTLE
Cindy Smotherman held her son's hands and prayed.
She had been a constant bedside companion for nearly three days, since 16-year-old Gary had plummeted 12 feet and landed on the side of his head. The pole-vaulting accident May 10 at Highline Stadium in Burien left her son comatose at Harborview Medical Center for 2 1/2 days.
Suddenly, Gary opened his eyes, and turned to his mother.
"Mom, don't hold both my hands," he said. "At least let go of one."
Cindy Smotherman's spirits soared and she let go of her worst fear - that Gary was gone.
"My heart went, `Oh my God, he knows I'm here.' I was elated," she said. "There'd always been a fear that filled my body."
That five-second awakening came seven days ago. Every day since has been a triumph for Gary and his family. He has progressed quickly from trying to communicate with his doctors and nurses through sign language (his 15-year-old brother, David, is deaf).
The Hazen High School junior had his best day yesterday on the road back to recovery. He even beat his dad in three games of chess.
"I feel better today," Gary said. "I can actually remember things from two days ago."
He was scheduled to be transferred today from Harborview to Children's Hospital and Medical Center, where he will continue his therapy.
"I'm eager to get back to school and get back to everything," Gary said yesterday.
The prognosis is for a complete recovery, physically and mentally.
"It's just a real miracle," said Cindy, who limps with a badly sprained ankle she suffered bounding out of the stands to reach Gary. "I think it's been the prayers and hopes of the entire community."
Gary doesn't remember the fall and doesn't seem to comprehend the seriousness of it.
"I want to go home," he said last week, sitting in a chair in a tank top, sweat pants and baseball cap, complaining of a headache.
"When you're a little better," his mother answered.
"How much better do I have to get?" asked Gary, adding that the first thing he would do when he gets out of the hospital is "go back to track."
Early last week, one doctor was so pessimistic that Cindy called her husband in tears.
"I thought, `They're looking at vegetable time,' " Cindy said. "Then Gary woke up and started saying things to us the doctor told us he wouldn't be able to say. It's been a real emotional roller coaster."
Gary looks remarkably well. Scrapes and bruises are mostly hidden. Only a small lump below his shoulder gives away his broken left collarbone.
Those who saw the accident were horrified. Both his mother and his coach, Bo Kurle, were in the stands and had looked away when Gary, who had vaulted 13 feet the week before, cleared the bar at 11 feet, 6 inches.
"Then I heard the thud," said Kurle, who rushed to Gary's side. "I just wanted to make sure nobody moved him. One minute I was making notes, and the next thing I knew I was there."
Gary had veered to the right on the vault and missed the padded landing area. "I saw him there and I just knew he was dead," Cindy said. "I was so scared. He didn't move for so long."
Cindy's father, who had flown in earlier from out of town to watch the meet, had to hold her back so she wouldn't try to gather Gary into her arms. A meet judge called 911, and an ambulance arrived within minutes. A doctor at the meet was able to attend to Gary immediately.
Mark Vetter, a Liberty pole vaulter, also rushed to Gary's side.
"I saw him bleeding from his nose and ear and he was unconscious," Vetter said. "All I worried about was just keeping him with us. I didn't want him to go into cardiac arrest."
After seeing her son crumpled between the padded landing area and a cyclone fence six feet away, his mother realized the accident could have been much worse, especially if had landed on the fence.
"He had an angel on his shoulder," she said.
Gary loves to fly through the air. He was an accomplished gymnast as a youngster and is an exceptional diver, placing third at the Class AA state meet last fall.
The pole vault was a natural progression. "Before too long, I should be able to get up to 16 feet," he said.
Not if his mother has anything to say about it - which she isn't sure she will.
The day of the accident, Cindy was uneasy about her son vaulting. Gary seemed to be, too.
"He seemed real uncomfortable with it," she said. "I feel if I would have gone up to him and said, `Let's just go home and forget about it,' that one time it would have been OK with Gary.
"It was really windy. I had a good feeling about Gary doing well in the competition, but I didn't have a good feeling about the conditions."
Today, Cindy has a good feeling about Gary's future.
"He's getting better every day," she said, "but we've still got a long row to hoe in front of us."
Copyright (c) 1991 Seattle Times Company, All Rights Reserved.
`It's Just A Real Miracle' -- Smotherman Making Remarkable Recovery After Vaulting Accident
By Sandy Ringer
-- SEATTLE
Cindy Smotherman held her son's hands and prayed.
She had been a constant bedside companion for nearly three days, since 16-year-old Gary had plummeted 12 feet and landed on the side of his head. The pole-vaulting accident May 10 at Highline Stadium in Burien left her son comatose at Harborview Medical Center for 2 1/2 days.
Suddenly, Gary opened his eyes, and turned to his mother.
"Mom, don't hold both my hands," he said. "At least let go of one."
Cindy Smotherman's spirits soared and she let go of her worst fear - that Gary was gone.
"My heart went, `Oh my God, he knows I'm here.' I was elated," she said. "There'd always been a fear that filled my body."
That five-second awakening came seven days ago. Every day since has been a triumph for Gary and his family. He has progressed quickly from trying to communicate with his doctors and nurses through sign language (his 15-year-old brother, David, is deaf).
The Hazen High School junior had his best day yesterday on the road back to recovery. He even beat his dad in three games of chess.
"I feel better today," Gary said. "I can actually remember things from two days ago."
He was scheduled to be transferred today from Harborview to Children's Hospital and Medical Center, where he will continue his therapy.
"I'm eager to get back to school and get back to everything," Gary said yesterday.
The prognosis is for a complete recovery, physically and mentally.
"It's just a real miracle," said Cindy, who limps with a badly sprained ankle she suffered bounding out of the stands to reach Gary. "I think it's been the prayers and hopes of the entire community."
Gary doesn't remember the fall and doesn't seem to comprehend the seriousness of it.
"I want to go home," he said last week, sitting in a chair in a tank top, sweat pants and baseball cap, complaining of a headache.
"When you're a little better," his mother answered.
"How much better do I have to get?" asked Gary, adding that the first thing he would do when he gets out of the hospital is "go back to track."
Early last week, one doctor was so pessimistic that Cindy called her husband in tears.
"I thought, `They're looking at vegetable time,' " Cindy said. "Then Gary woke up and started saying things to us the doctor told us he wouldn't be able to say. It's been a real emotional roller coaster."
Gary looks remarkably well. Scrapes and bruises are mostly hidden. Only a small lump below his shoulder gives away his broken left collarbone.
Those who saw the accident were horrified. Both his mother and his coach, Bo Kurle, were in the stands and had looked away when Gary, who had vaulted 13 feet the week before, cleared the bar at 11 feet, 6 inches.
"Then I heard the thud," said Kurle, who rushed to Gary's side. "I just wanted to make sure nobody moved him. One minute I was making notes, and the next thing I knew I was there."
Gary had veered to the right on the vault and missed the padded landing area. "I saw him there and I just knew he was dead," Cindy said. "I was so scared. He didn't move for so long."
Cindy's father, who had flown in earlier from out of town to watch the meet, had to hold her back so she wouldn't try to gather Gary into her arms. A meet judge called 911, and an ambulance arrived within minutes. A doctor at the meet was able to attend to Gary immediately.
Mark Vetter, a Liberty pole vaulter, also rushed to Gary's side.
"I saw him bleeding from his nose and ear and he was unconscious," Vetter said. "All I worried about was just keeping him with us. I didn't want him to go into cardiac arrest."
After seeing her son crumpled between the padded landing area and a cyclone fence six feet away, his mother realized the accident could have been much worse, especially if had landed on the fence.
"He had an angel on his shoulder," she said.
Gary loves to fly through the air. He was an accomplished gymnast as a youngster and is an exceptional diver, placing third at the Class AA state meet last fall.
The pole vault was a natural progression. "Before too long, I should be able to get up to 16 feet," he said.
Not if his mother has anything to say about it - which she isn't sure she will.
The day of the accident, Cindy was uneasy about her son vaulting. Gary seemed to be, too.
"He seemed real uncomfortable with it," she said. "I feel if I would have gone up to him and said, `Let's just go home and forget about it,' that one time it would have been OK with Gary.
"It was really windy. I had a good feeling about Gary doing well in the competition, but I didn't have a good feeling about the conditions."
Today, Cindy has a good feeling about Gary's future.
"He's getting better every day," she said, "but we've still got a long row to hoe in front of us."
Copyright (c) 1991 Seattle Times Company, All Rights Reserved.