The colorful falling leaves rustle through the trees on this brisk October morning in 1990. Jason and his sister Joanna get into the car and drive to school. Jason is driving this morning. He has just received his permit and is very anxious to start driving on his own. His sister Joanna is one year older than him and is showing him the specific points of driving, as if in a workshop. Today, she decides that he should drive to school. He takes the wheel and proceeds slowly down the back roads to Hill High School. These are backcountry roads and the twists cause Jason to drive slowly and cautiously. He takes each turn with a bit of bravado and his sister teases him that he is becoming a "coward" and tells him to speed up a bit. They will be late for school if he doesn't step on it! He presses the gas pedal down and accelerates but finds it difficult to tame the steering wheel of the mobile locomotive. His sister tells him to watch the road attentively, but he turns to tell her a witty remake and doesn't see the embankment ahead of him. Just a second of distraction rotating the wheel, he sending the car down to the embankment, and the car roils over and over and hits a tree. Jason's head hits the wind shield and he is trapped between that and the steering wheel. He can't breathe and is losing consciousness. Joanna tries desperately to free him, but is unable to. She does the only thing possible -- that is to escape out of the open window and find help… fast!
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Jason lived only sixteen years but he did so much in his short time on Earth. He was very academic, a musician, an athlete, a golf fanatic, liked archeology and was a lover of life. He had many, many friends and thirsted for living, which was quite unlike anyone I had witnessed. He had the kind of boyish charm and he lit up a room when he entered it. He had a beautiful: smile and kind words for everyone. I have never seen him get angry but he was always cheerful and intelligent. I was Jason's godmother and when he was baptized in 1974, he had the coolest priest. The priest had long hair and sandals. I still smile when I think about that priest. Jason cried when I held him for the blessing of the water but not for very long. The ceremony only took a few moments, but looking down at Jason, I knew then, that this was indeed a special child. It turned out my impressions were correct.
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Ambulances arrive in a few minutes but Jason is unconscious. They have to extricate him with the "Jaws of Life". He is taken to the hospital and for three days he lies between life and death. He is breathing only with the assistance of a respirator. That has limited his brain activity. The doctors take Jeff aside and notify him that Jason has extensive brain damage and that there is no real hope that Jason would be normal again. Jeff must make a decision whether to turn off the respirator and let Jason die in peace. He thinks that it's the best decision but it is also the most painful one he has ever made in his life.
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Jason and Jeff shared a durable bond. They did everything together from the time he was born. When they had a free moment, they would be golfing, skiing, playing badminton. They formed a bond of love that remains even beyond the boundaries of life and death. It is an extraordinary relationship between father and son.
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One year earlier, Jason was pursuing another kind of sports: Skiing. He liked the skiing attitude. A few of his friends drove up to Sugarloaf Mountain and skied for the whole day. You know, Sugarloaf has a wonderful mountain slope for skiing. Jason spent the day back and forth along the mountain skiing trails for many runs.
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Jeff was an enthusiastic, devoted and a superb father to Jason and Joanna. He made sure that he spent a lot of time with his children. Time seemed to be of the utmost importance to him as well as having fun. He always enjoyed life and was a bit of a risk taker. Golf was a pastime that Jason and Jeff shared. It was almost religions. They would even attempt to golf when there was accumulation of snow on the golf course. Jason would just put his gloves on and laugh. "I must golf!" he would say, "I love it!"
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Once sunset was illuminating the snow and there was a group of trees ahead. The sun blinded him for a second and he tried to avoid the trees but ran into. The ski pole plunged right into his head and fractured his skull. There was a gush of blood on his head but Jason did his best to slide down the mountain. He drove himself to the emergency room, where the doctors scratch their heads wondering how he was injured. But he was lucky to be alive. A few days later, Jason was back on the ski slopes like nothing happened at all. He was just that kind of young man. He overcame the misfortune and lived for exactly one extra year. Jeff told this story at Jason's funeral. His eyes filled up with tears of love every time he mentioned Jason's name.
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Jason's bedroom is a testimony to his personality and his life. He has a collection of model airplanes. On the piano there is still the music of the song that was Jason's favorite of his time, "Chariots of Fire". Jason was a very outgoing young man. He was an accomplished student and a sportsman. Jason had lots of merits and had many, many friends who loved him. I loved Jason very much. Jeff and Jason share a bond of affection that defies death.
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Today, Jeff's home is open to anyone who has a thirst for living. He loves to have fun. He isn't the one to sit still and let life pass him by. He wants to help young people develop their potentials. He is a member of a mutual aid association. He set up a college fund for the study of music and it would be available to any eligible student who shares Jason's philosophy of being outgoing and hardworking. It is called the Jason Music Scholarship Fund. It is his way of carrying on Jason's musical dreams. Now Jason rests by a beautiful river in a bed of roses. Jeff visits him every week, along with his wife.
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