How One Family Lost Their Son to Football
Listening to her husband, Richard, recall their younger son's final moments in a football game two years ago, Tammy Jeffries covers her ears and shakes her head, unwilling to relive it again. "That's one memory I'd like to forget," she says.
The world went black for Dylan Jeffries on a Friday night in late September 2013. His team, the South Harrison High School Hawks of Lost Creek, West Virginia, were hosting their cross-county rivals in one of the biggest matchups of the season. As the Hawks warmed up, Tammy and Richard kept a close eye on Dylan, 17, the team's star running back, who for two weeks had been sidelined while recovering from a concussion. Richard checked in on him throughout the game, calling down from the stands, "How you doing?" Every time, Dylan replied, "I'm fine, Dad."
Dylan played his heart out, running the ball for almost 50 yards and making an impressive catch. "He was at the top of his game," his coach, Brad Jett, recalls. By the fourth quarter, he'd helped boost the Hawks to a 17–10 lead.
Then, with less than nine minutes left, Dylan was tackled. Two players hurtled into him, crashing into his chest and legs and laying him flat, causing the back of his helmet to smack against the ground.
Unsteadily, Dylan rose, then walked to the sidelines. But seconds later, he collapsed. "Dylan's down!" Tammy cried. Richard, along with Dylan's older brother, Shane, ran to him, bounding down the stairs two at a time. "Dylan was unconscious," Richard says. "We couldn't get him to come back."
On October 6, 2013, after nine days in a medically induced coma, Dylan died from massive swelling of the brain — the result of what his doctors believe was second impact syndrome, a very rare condition that can occur when a brain not yet healed from one concussion experiences another.
In a matter of minutes, the straight-A student who dreamed of becoming an Air Force helicopter pilot became a statistic, one of six high school players to die of football-related head injuries in 2013, the deadliest season in over a decade. (Another four high school players died from head-related football injuries last year, according to the National Center for Catastrophic Sport Injury Research.)
Game of Risk
According to recent data, every year, in part due to the sheer volume of participants, tackle football causes the greatest number of concussions among male high school athletes in America. Research suggests that repeated concussions can contribute to the development of dementia, memory problems, and other degenerative brain problems later in life.
"Kids who have accumulated concussions can have long-term post concussive effects that are emotional, social, and cognitive," says Patrick Bellgowan, Ph.D., program director of the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS).
To make matters worse, recent research shows that the repetitive pounding of football — the lesser knocks and blows a player endures in typical games — can also pose dangers: A University of Rochester study on college football players found it took just 10 to 15 hard hits to produce physical alterations in players' brains. And burgeoning evidence suggests that the longer a person plays, the more his brain may be affected; in a small University of Tulsa study last year, researchers discovered that college players who took up the sport in childhood had less volume in their hippocampus (a part of the brain involved in memory) than ones who started later in life.
The news has some parents thinking twice about letting their kids play. Participation in Pop Warner, the nation's largest youth football league, dropped 9.5% between 2010 and 2012. (It has since evened out.) But other moms and dads say they're proud football parents and believe that when the game is played properly, it's safe enough. They may not be wrong: "We haven't conducted large studies on youth football. For all we know, it might be safe," says Bellgowan. "Some doctors argue that kids are more susceptible to concussions because they have less neck strength, or that concussions are a greater danger to them because their brains are still developing. We need to find out. We're about five to 10 years from an answer."
A Lifelong Passion
Growing up near close-knit Lost Creek (population 496), where football "is what people live for," says Jett, Dylan dreamed of making the high school squad. Though Richard, 46, a Walmart automotive department support manager, had never played, sons Dylan and Shane, now 22, started as tykes. On and off the field, Dylan "had a big heart," remembers Tammy. At home, "he'd always come talk to me if I was having a bad day," she says. "Whenever his dad came home from work, he'd give him a hug."
During the Hawks' third game of the year, while making a dash for the end zone, Dylan suffered his first concussion when an opposing player roughly yanked his face mask. The jerking movement gave him whiplash, which can rattle the brain in the skull.
Later that Friday night, Dylan complained of a headache and vomited, common signs of a head injury. Over the next few days, his symptoms ebbed and flowed. On Saturday, he felt well enough to play in a golf tournament, which eased his parents' concerns. But when he complained of headaches on and off afterward, Tammy worried. On the Wednesday after the game, she took him to the ER.
After a CT scan showed no signs of brain bleeding, Dylan was diagnosed with a concussion and referred to a rehabilitation medicine specialist. Two days later, he and Tammy visited the specialist, who confirmed the ER physician's concussion diagnosis and told Dylan to come back for follow-up in a week. In the meantime, Dylan would need to limit his activity, the doctor said, to give his brain time to heal.
Though disappointed — he "wanted to get to at least the state playoffs," Tammy says — Dylan followed the doctor's orders, sitting out of football practice, avoiding other strenuous pursuits like basketball and abstaining from video games. His parents and coach "watched him like a hawk," Richard says, for other post-concussion syndrome symptoms such as nausea, dizziness, and sensitivity to light. But "Dylan didn't have any of that," Richard says. Within a few days, his headaches abated. "He was acting normal," Tammy says.
In public schools in West Virginia, as in many states, injured high school football players must pass a multistep protocol to return to play. Generally state protocols work like this: Under a coach's supervision, an injured player reengages with physical activity one exercise at a time. After each exercise, if the player is asymptomatic for a set period (24 hours in most programs), he can try the next. If symptoms arise, however, the athlete must pause the protocol and rest for longer.
In the days leading up to Dylan's return, Jett took every precaution, first easing him into running exercises, then having him try football drills (like blocking a sled), and finally letting him practice light tackling. Dylan said he felt fine.
On the morning of September 27, 2013, Tammy took Dylan to the specialist for his follow-up appointment. Once again, the doctor asked him a series of questions to assess his cognition. "Dylan was sharp," Tammy says. The doctor says he recommended a gradual return to play; nonetheless, he noted that Dylan was asymptomatic and gave him a letter allowing him to return to extracurricular activities. "He was so excited to play in the game that night," Tammy says.
Tragedy on the Field
After Dylan collapsed, he was rushed to a nearby hospital by ambulance, then airlifted to Ruby Memorial Hospital in Morgantown, West Virginia, where a team of doctors were waiting. At the stadium, players and fans held hands for 30 minutes and prayed.
As Tammy and Richard raced to be by Dylan's side, Richard's cell phone rang: It was a doctor, asking for permission to operate on Dylan's skull to relieve the pressure on his brain. "Do what you've got to do," Richard told him.
For the next nine days, the family kept vigil at Dylan's bedside. Around the clock, wearing T-shirts emblazoned with Dylan's number, 22, his friends came in droves, filling up two waiting rooms. But as time passed, it became clear that Dylan wasn't getting better. On the eighth day, specialists showed Tammy and Richard scans of his brain activity. "There was nothing," says Richard. "We knew the good Lord had taken him home."
After Dylan's death, his coaches retraced their steps, wondering if there was anything they could have done to save his life. "We followed every protocol the state had," Jett told GH during an emotional interview in his office, next to the South Harrison High School football field, where Dylan's jersey is now retired.
In the absence of more sophisticated testing methods, assessing concussion recovery will always be tricky, notes the NINDS's Bellgowan. "The challenge of concussion has always been that there's no objective measure of recovery," he says. "There's no brain scan we can give you. I tell athletes to think of a concussion like a hamstring pull — it often feels better before it's fully healed. It's likely that your brain is the same. When in doubt, sit it out." Officials in the Jeffries family's home county now make baseline testing for concussion available to athletes in all sports. Jett requires his players to be tested at the start of the season, monitors them more closely during contact drills and checks their eyes often for pupil dilation, another concussion signal.
Nearly two years later, Dylan's loved ones are still coming to terms with the loss. "I try not to dwell," Richard says. "If we dwell on the pain and anger, it's going to make it worse for everybody." Instead, they've tried to channel their grief in positive ways. Last year they established a scholarship fund in Dylan's name, benefitting local high school grads heading to college or vocational schools. Remembering happier times helps quell their heartache, too. Tammy and Richard cherish the memory of the smile on Dylan's face as he left home for his final game. Before walking out the door, he hugged them, as he always did, and said, "I love you guys."
"You never know what tomorrow will bring," Richard says. "The Lord has a reason for everything. Maybe Dylan's life was meant to shine a light on the seriousness of concussions."
For more on how to detect the signs and symptoms of a concussion, as well as treat it, our editors have put together this handy list. Make sure you also check out this safety checklist so you (and your child!) know all the basics.
This story originally appeared in the August 2015 issue of Good Housekeeping.
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