There is a silver lining in almost everything, or so they say. Often life does not make sense to us, why us, why now, why this? Such is the case of Ryan Williams. He was a fine young man, an amazing mathematician, a mechanical engineering student about to graduate from OSU. He was also a pilot and an innovative engineer who was working with the Buckeye electric motorcycles race team at OSU. Although I have never met Ryan, I did meet his dad. I had the pleasure of working with Reed on a project involving warehouse management software for a large publishing company that was moving their warehouse. Reed is an amazing man, so I can only imagine how much of that amazing -ness he instilled in his late son Ryan.
As Reed said to me, you should not have to bury your kids. That is just not the order of things in life. We go; first they follow.. when the order is reversed life falls apart, as it did for my friend Reed. What is the purpose of life if the only son you have passes away? The answer, well nothing. It is akin to a film break in a movie. You see white, and nothing more.
While talking over dinner and a cold beer, Reed reluctantly or perhaps therapeutically went back in time in his mind to explain to me in great detail what happened that horrific day. He and his wife Lynda were having dinner when the news on the TV reported that there was an accident involving an OSU student and a motorcycle. The two put their spoons down and proceeded to call their son Ryan who did not answer. They soon put their shoes on as Lynda's motherly instincts took effect, and she felt something was very wrong. They jumped in the family car and proceeded to call him and drive toward his apartment on campus. As they got closer, they saw the ambulance and the police cars. Lynda jumped out of the car and tried to get closer to the scene that was now cordoned off. When a police officer told her she could not come any closer, she just wanted to be sure that it was not her son that was laying there in the body bag. She yelled out his name - Ryan! The police officer that was holding her back said ma'am I'm sorry and handed her Ryan.s drivers license. There was nothing more that needed to be said. The devastation was immediate. Reed and Lynda got back in their car and drove home in silence. . . . . . . . .
After Reed told me this story Ryan and his passing so moved me, that I set out to see if we could maybe help at least one person not to have to live through such an experience. So an idea was born and Ryan's Guardian Angels seemed like a fitting name. This was simply a labor of love from me to him as a father and a friend.
Our goal is to help those who have been in an accident in their Golden hour. That time in emergency medicine, the golden hour (also known as golden time) refers to a period lasting for one hour, or less, following a traumatic injury sustained by a casualty or medical emergency, during which there is the highest likelihood that prompt medical treatment will prevent death.[1] It is established that the patient's chances of survival are greatest if they receive care within a short period after a severe injury; however, there is no evidence to suggest that survival rates drop off after 60 minutes. Some have come to use the term to refer to the core principle of rapid intervention in trauma cases, rather than the narrow meaning of a critical one-hour period.
Grief never ends... but it changes. It's passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love.