My daughter, Stephanie Kennedy, lost a young brother last night. Tristan Evarts (left in photo) died from brain injuries sustained in a car accident last week. He was 16. He had sports and musical interests, as well as a bright future and loving family.
Tristan’s organs were harvested at Fairfax (Va.) Hospital so that others can live. “He would have wanted that,” said Stephanie.
I didn’t know Tristan well. To me, he was the little kid who I saw briefly whenever I went to my daughter’s house in Fulton, Md., where she grew up. As a visiting divorced dad, I would often see Tristan hanging around the kitchen or shooting hoops in the driveway – barely reaching the rim -- while my daughter was gathering her things in order to spend the day with me. That seemingly was a lifetime ago.
Tristan was one of two boys who my former wife, Cindy, had in her second marriage to Bob Evarts. The other boy is Sam (right), who is now 13 and also suffering from the loss of a brother. They moved from Maryland to West Virginia several years ago, pursuing what we all want – a life more in harmony with our personal values and evolving desires.
My daughter now lives close to me, in Northern Virginia, and works at a university where she advises students not much older than Tristan. Her husband, Kevin Kennedy, was a friend to Tristan. They shared an interest in sports and both possessed the same easy-going, likable personalities. Kevin is a high school football coach and educator.
Of course, I am heartbroken over this tragedy. As a father with at least a decade of worries about my own daughter’s safety behind the wheel of a car, I am well aware of the fact that the No. 1 killer of young people is related to motor vehicle accidents. I suspect I will never stop worrying about my daughter. Steph is my only child and is an optimistic young woman with much to offer the world. I don’t want to see her broken by this loss. I am sure Tristan would feel the same and urge his older sister to pursue her dreams.
If I could wave my magic wand, I would create a world where parents never have to bury their children. I would increase the driving age to 18, improve roads to make them safer and enhance driver education for anyone seeking a license.
For the second time in the last few months, someone close to me has had to face the prospect of losing a brother. My wife’s sibling is battling leukemia. To watch my daughter and wife go through this process certainly puts my own challenges in perspective and makes my heart ache for both of them.
Tristan's mom once told me that we walk varying distances through life with various people who come and go in what appears to be a random manner. But, she added, there may not be anything random about this. Perhaps we travel together only as far as we need to in order to learn certain lessons. It’s not so much the length of time that we spend together as it is the profound timing of when we meet and when we separate, and what we gain in between. As I think about the losses and lessons in my 53 years, I believe there might be some truth to this opinion. I also believe that we might all meet up again.
I suspended this blog several months ago for reasons that I have mentioned in previous posts. However, the death of a young man – a brother to my daughter and a friend of many – should not go without mention here in this quasi journal of the last year and a half. I regret not having known Tristan better, as he was a very special person in Stephanie’s world.
During a father-daughter chat at the hospital last week, Stephanie and I came to the realization that Tristan is an old soul possibly nearing the end of a long spiritual journey. She just prayed that the journey wasn’t over quite yet. Stephanie referred to her brother as “good” several times during the week that Tristan was in a coma. That simple word, used over and over by a sister with unlimited love for her brother, speaks volumes about a West Virginia boy named Tristan. I hope this old soul is now and forever at peace.
Contributions may be made to a scholarship fund being established at Hedgesville High School in Tristan's name. Checks should be payable to Hedgesville High School with "Tristan Evarts Scholarship" clearly written in the memo. Please mail contributions to:
Attn: Don Dellinger
Hedgesville High School
109 Ridge Road North
Hedgesville, WV 25427
Click here to read more about Tristan or to sign his guest book.
Reactions from students and teachers at Tristan's high school.
