Chapter 7
Rod’s quick thinking that morning to immediately initiate
emergency response most likely saved Trick’s life. Along with a severe head
injury, his left arm was severed to the bone under his armpit with multiple
compound fractures to his humerus. Both the ulna and radius bones were also
crushed at the elbow. Apparently, as the driver’s side window broke out, Trick’s
arm flung out of the window and was rolled up on before the truck went
airborne. The brachial artery on the anterior aspect of the upper arm was also severed,
which had Rod not responded as quickly as he did, Trick would have bled out while
hanging from the seatbelt half submerged in the river.
Rod’s initial assessment of the accident was to
prioritize care to Trick. From his vantage point above the river, he could tell
Trick was in critical condition. He was not moving and Rod could see Trick’s
arm with the bones protruding and blood spurting out of the wound. He needed to
get the bleeding under control before anything else. The other driver was
conscious and moving around and Rod knew there would be help soon.
A flight for life air ambulance left from Great Falls and
landed in the clearing on top of the bluff 24 minutes after they were called. Two
ambulances from Helena arrived at the scene within about 45 minutes. All the
volunteer fire fighters from Craig were also on the scene to offer support. Trick’s
bleeding was stabilized. Still unconscious however, and EMT’s fearing the
worst, he was carefully removed from his truck and strapped to a back board
before carrying him upstream along the riverbank to safer extraction point.
When Bret didn’t hear back from Trick after texting him,
there was some cause for concern but he also understood that the guys had been
hanging out at the lodge all night and there was a good chance they all got a
late start. Plus, cell service along the river is spotty at best.
It was around 8:00 that Bret’s anticipation of fishing
the Missouri and potentially missing out, along with a fear that something
might have happened created enough anxiety to call the lodge. There was no
answer so Bret called the shop.
“Missouri River Angler, this is Mike,” was the answer
from the shop.
“Yeah, my name is Bret and I’m looking for a group of
guys meeting up there for a fishing trip?” he responded. “I know, there’s
probably a lot of those guys but these guys you can’t miss. They’re all
football players and pretty stacked.”
“Yeah, I think they’re all standing outside. Can I grab
one of them for you?”
“Yes, please. Mike Morley is the guy’s name.” Bret said.
The ‘shop’ Mike walked outside and with the receiver of
the cordless phone tucked against is chest yells, “Mike Morley?”
“That’s me,” Mike yells back.
Mike runs up onto the porch of the shop and grabs the
phone. “Hello?”
“Dude,” Bret starts off. “What’s up?”
Mike and the group of guys were waiting in the parking
lot of the shop watching the commotion of volunteer fire fighters and then state
troopers and finally two ambulances speeding across the Craig Bridge--then the helicopter
landing just upstream from Craig. At that very second, with Bret’s voice asking
that simple question, panic consumed Mike’s body.
“I my god, Bret. I’ll call you back on my cell phone. Oh
my god!”
Mike gave the shop employee standing behind the counter
just enough time to make eye contact before throwing the phone from the doorway
to him.
“I’m sorry, man. I gotta go.”
Mike ran to his truck and with his boat still in tow,
threw the transmission into gear and started out the parking lot onto Bridge
Street. The players watched as Mike spun his tires, turning right towards the
river. Another rig coming into town slammed on his breaks to avoid Mike.
Mike raced through town, past the Craig FAS and over the
bridge. He barely slowed down as he turned right onto the Rec Road going back
upstream towards Cellphone Bluff.
As Mike approached the bluff, EMT’s were transporting
Trick from the ambulance he was originally put in at the extraction point to
the helicopter on top of the bluff. Mike couldn’t tell yet who was on the
gurney but deep down inside he knew. His truck barely came to a stop and Mike
was jumping out, running toward the air ambulance.
A state trooper held out an arm to stop Mike. “I’m sorry,
I can’t let you go over there.”
“That’s my best friend. I have to.” Mike pleaded.
“Hold on,” the trooper directed and ran over to the air
ambulance.
He shouted some things to one of the technicians and then
looked back to Mike and waved him towards the helicopter.
Mike didn’t hesitate. He ran over and was given a hand by
the tech and helped up and in. Mike looked down and sure enough, his fears were
confirmed. With Mike buckled into a spare seat, the helicopter lifted and
banked north along the Mighty Mo.
The first ambulance had already left for St. Peter’s
Hospital in Helena with the other driver in the accident. Trick was en route to
Benefis Hospital in Great Falls. However, on the way to Great Falls, Trick’s
breathing stopped and due to his deteriorating condition, he was re-routed to
the level II trauma center at St. Patrick Hospital in Missoula.
It took 45 minutes for the air ambulance to reach St.
Patrick Hospital. In that time, Trick was intubated and given an IV of plasma
to help stabilize shock and manage his blood loss. He never re-gained
consciousness on the transport. Mike held his hand the entire way quietly
saying prayers, encouraging Trick to hang in there.
They arrived at the hospital and the emergency medical
team took over. Trick was in critical condition. At the time, no one could
really grasp the severity of the injuries or what long-term affects there were
going to be. To Mike, it just looked really bad and the fear that Trick might
not make it was consuming him.
The first call Mike made was to Sara. He knew she would
be the one to get the wheels turning for contacting Trick’s parents and making
sure everyone was contacted that needed to be contacted. He also knew she was
the best person, in the moment, to oversee the care that Trick was being given.
She canceled all her appointments and was at the hospital within the hour.
The next call was to Bret.
“What the fuck’s going on, Mike?” Was the first thing out
of Bret’s mouth as he answered the phone.
“I’m sorry, Bret.” Mike answered. “I’m sorry but I had to
go. Trick wrecked on the way in to pick you up.”
“What?” Bret asked with a sense of urgency. “How bad?”
“I don’t know, Bret. It’s bad but nobody really knows. He
was air-lifted by flight-for-life to Missoula.”
“God dangit.” Bret responded. “Can you tell anything?”
“All I know,” Mike admitted, “he was unconscious and
never woke up. I rode in the helicopter with him. He stopped breathing at one
point. His left arm was pretty mangled. I don’t know dude.”
“Shit,” Bret sighed. “I didn’t know what was going on, so
I rented a car. I’ll head over to Missoula right now. I’ll be there in a couple
hours.”
“All right, Dude,” Mike added. “Just be prepared. It’s
not good and listen, I know how much you care about Trick but I also know you
and Trick are business partners…just be prepared.”
“Mike,” Bret interjected. “Let’s put first things first.
Let’s just make sure Trick makes it through this. Football can wait. The NFL
isn’t going anywhere.”
Trick opened his eyes for the first time on May 5th,
three weeks and two days after the accident and a week after the 2008 NFL
Draft. He had minimal response to external stimulus but was showing promise
that he was not suffering paralysis given that he did respond to pin pricks on
his feet.
The extent of his head injuries was not clear. However,
he didn’t have any fractures to his spinal cord that might cause permanent injury.
He did suffer from a fractured femur, a broken nose, multiple lacerations
across his face and forehead and his left arm was nearly cut off six inches
from the shoulder in the crash.
It was on day three after the accident that Trick’s
parents had to make the most difficult decision of their lives. With Trick
still unconscious, his left arm developed a bacterial infection and he went
into septic shock. Doctors tried treating the infection but given Trick’s
condition, he was not responding to the medications. Doctors suggested removing
his arm in an effort to save his life. Trick’s parents consented.
Little by little, day by day, Trick gained more cognitive
ability. During the first few days after gaining consciousness, he would wake
up and scan the room, noticing the people in the room he recognized, and forcing
out a smile to them. He would only be awake for a few moments before drifting
back to sleep. Each day brought a few more minutes he could stay awake and the
interaction increasing became more nuanced and sophisticated. It would take
Trick nearly a month to be able to speak any words.
Mike and Sara, along with Trick’s parents, Roy and Genene;
were regulars in the recovery unit at St. Patrick Hospital. In those first
months of recover, the four got to know each other very well. In fact, Roy and
Genene often referred to Mike and Sara as family. When talks of Trick’s
condition and who would eventually address the elephant in the room once Trick
was able to receive such information was too much for Genene, she and Sara
would take walks along the Clark Fork River that flowed through Missoula and talked
about things like wedding plans and children and anything but the accident and
what that would mean for Trick’s future.
Roy and Mike spoke often as well but mostly about Trick’s
future. It was decided early-on, that Trick would not transfer back to
California because they both agreed that Trick’s heart was in Montana and being
here, playing for the Griz, he had developed the support system he would need
to recover. Roy suppressed his initial reaction to the thought of not taking
Trick home but knew, in the end, it was the right thing to do.
When the topic of football came up and who was the best
to break the news to Trick, no one was confident that there was a right or
wrong way to do it. Even the mention of it brought tears to Roy’s eyes. He knew
how important football was to Trick. He knew how hard Trick had worked to make
it as far as he did; to even be considered by NFL teams given where he started
was incredible. But to have it all right in front of him and now ripped away by
something out of his control was gut-wrenching.
“It’s not fair.” Roy would often say as he cradled his
head in his hands, fighting off the tears. “It’s just not fair.”
It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot of information
about what actually happened that day at Cellphone Bluff. Authorities were able
to recover Trick’s phone but because it was submerged in water, it was useless.
All Trick’s family knew was that there was another driver but their identity
and the details of the accident were being suppressed due to an impending
investigation. It didn’t sound right. Something had happened and not being able
to put any kind of fault or blame on someone was frustrating to Roy and was
fueling an anger that would manifest into statements of retribution and wanting
someone to pay.
Mike often fell back on his faith to offer some solace to
Roy and when that didn’t work, he would redirect Roy into focusing his energy
on Trick and his recovery. Mike was angry too. Mike had seen Trick through many
of the challenges that would eventually position him for a shot. Yes, it was
frustrating for all of them and incredibly sad but the focus, as Mike would always
come to, was doing what was best for Trick now.
As much as Bret wanted to be there for Trick, this was
the most important time for him and his other clients as the draft had come and
gone and the window for unsigned free agents was quickly closing. He called
Mike every day for updates even after it was a far-gone conclusion that Trick
would never play football again. Mike and Bret talked often about when to give
Trick the news and who should deliver it. Bret insisted on being there so as
Trick started gaining some strength and was able to process information a little
better, Bret flew back to Missoula.
Mike put the word out to a couple of the players he had
contact information for. They contacted other players and coaches. They all
showed up to hospital and flooded the recovery unit. Knowing how devastating
the news would be to Trick, it was decided that only Trick’s parents, Mike,
Sara and Bret would be in the room to deliver it.
Trick was awake when the five entered the room. He gave a
painful smile and then his eyes fell to his chest.
“Son?” Roy asked. “Are you in pain?”
Trick shook his head. “It’s not that dad.”
Trick was struggling to get words out. He continued. “My
leg…hurts. My face…feel like hell. Whole body, sore.” After a pause, “Can’t
feel my arm.”
Roy sits on the edge of the bed and reaches out to hold
Trick’s right hand, “Son, I’m sorry. They tried to save it…I’m sorry. There was
an infection and the medicine wasn’t clearing it up. We had to do something and
if it wasn’t the arm, you probably would have died.”
Trick closed his eyes. A single tear slowly rolled down
the side of his face.
“I’m so sorry, Trick,” Genene added. “I’m so sorry.”
Bret entered the conversation, “Dude, we’re here for you.
I promise. I know you don’t want to hear this but it’s going to work out. I’m
just glad to see you’re alive.”
“Hey, Trick?” Sara asked gingerly as she cleared her
voice. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to see anyone right now but there
are a few people that would like to say, hi.”
Trick shrugged his shoulder as to say, “What does it
matter?”
The door to the room opened slowly as a couple players
poked their heads in. “Is it alright? Can we come in?”
One by one, Trick’s teammates filed into the room, gave Trick
a couple words of encouragement, a hug, and turned back to exit. Every
teammate, from the seniors he played their last game with to the red shirts he
barely knew. They came in to offer support to Trick. The coaches were last.
It was Trick’s tight end’s coach, Bryce Josephson who brought
up the rear and while holding Trick’s hand, leaned down and whispered in his
ear, “You didn’t get this far, Trick, because you had some fuckin god given
talent. You were undersized. You came from nowhere. You worked your fucking ass
off to make the team. You worked your fucking ass off to turn the heads of all
those scouts and GM’s. God did give you something, Trick. Fall back on that. We
all love you.”
As Bryce left the room, Mike entered before the rest of
Trick’s family.
“You alright, buddy?” Mike asked.
“What am I going to do, Mike” Trick asked.
“Well,” Mike answered. “For starters, you’re gonna live. And
when tomorrow comes, we’ll figure out tomorrow.”
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