(Photo – Angela Hewitt Photography)
It’s late Thursday night, I can’t sleep and I’ve got things I want to say that I can’t hold in for another 20 or so hours.
So, here goes it.
Friday’s football game between South Hamilton and Roland-Story is the most important event I’ve covered in my short career, and its not because a trophy is at stake, a district title, a playoff spot or a state title is on the line.
It’s because a plethora of communities are coming together to remember the loss and celebrate the life of one of the finest student-athletes to grace this longstanding rivalry.
Emphasis on the student portion of “student-athlete”.
The loss of Owen Renaud hit the South Hamilton, Roland-Story and neighboring communities like a ton of bricks, including this broadcaster. I was preparing notes for the ballgame between Clarion-Goldfield-Dows and Hampton-Dumont-CAL when I received word and confirmation of the tragedy that took place outside Anderson, Indiana.
Owen Renaud died in a plane crash…there’s just no way. Not a chance that is true.
The 45-minute ride to Hampton was a long, lonely, and quiet drive. A time to think, a time to reflect, a time to mourn. Friday the 6th and Saturday the 7th were normal Football days for nearly everyone, except a small portion of two Iowa counties, a portion I could not keep off my mind.
Even as I stood on the sidelines of Kinnick Stadium and Kyle Konrardy made the kick of a lifetime to secure an Iowa State-upset over Iowa. Not 2 minutes into Matt Campbell’s postgame press conference did I see Owen’s obituary posted. My body was present, my mind was a hundred miles away, and the cone of silence came down.
It might be stealing a title used to describe the late, great Chris Street, but Owen Renaud embodied the phrase “Emotion in Motion”. His play on the football field and on the basketball court embodied emotion. From planting a hapless linebacker, to sacking a quarterback, or converting an and-one opportunity, Owen wore his heart on his sleeve.
Off the field and the court, I have not met many athletes his age that were as well-spoken, thoughtful and as open as he was. Talking about football, sharing stories of athletic achievements (more-so me relishing as a has-been), life after high school, it was all fair game and embraced by him.
That’s what makes writing this so freaking hard. A kid like this isn’t supposed to go early, especially at 19 with the whole world ahead of him.
That drive up to Hampton last Friday wasn’t entirely quiet. I talked to my mother, a former high school educator for 20 years, over the phone and told her what had happened. She was quick to understand my grief and pointed to her own experiences when students perished in her time in education.
She mentioned how as children, my siblings and I didn’t have a full grasp of why it hurt so much (and she is right). She could now hear how much this had hurt me, and pointed out how much time that I spend with kids from all of our area communities, and at times it’s comparable to the time educators spend with these kids. It’s normal to the feel this way, and the older you get, the harder it is to deal with.
…and God, is she right.
Tomorrow’s (or if you’re reading this Friday, this morning’s) funeral will be something that I won’t be sure what to expect, but I know for certain I’ll always remember it.
And as for the game, the best way to describe it…it will be an experience. My hope? It’s a 100-yard homage to how Owen Renaud played the game of football: hard, fast, disciplined and with an unbridled love and passion.
If we are that lucky that hope comes to fruition on Friday night, we may be in for an edition of Friday Night Lights we may never forget.
Just as we should never forget the impact Owen Renaud has on those around him.
As it states in the Book of Ecclesiastes and is sung by The Byrds in their signature song “A time to weep, a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.”
There will be a time to weep, a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance tomorrow. Cherish all of those times.