When I had my cancer scare a few years ago the specialist was trying to make small talk while we waited for the results of the biopsy to come in and he asked me to describe the worst pain I had ever experienced. I knew he was trying to prepare me for the possibilities ahead but my mind didn’t go to memories of physical pain, it went to the moment I stood by my sister and my brother-in-law in a hospital some 20 years ago when a sheriff deputy informed them in a hallway that their young son passed away in a tragedy earlier that day. He punched a wall and she let out a sound I had never heard before and I don’t ever want to hear again. That was real pain – a pain I could only imagine.
A few years later, I started this journey of recording the athletic exploits of children throughout the Old Pueblo. As a teacher of severely disabled children, I experienced the loss of over a dozen of my young students and the toll on my soul caused me to turn to teaching at a “regular” school. Still, the losses kept coming, though at a slower rate. I definitely wasn’t prepared for the losses of the children – your children – I would photograph and write about for the Tucson Citizen and then later for AllSportsTucson. There have been too many.
Killed serving our country in a land so far away, car accidents, illnesses, drownings, suicide. There have been far too many. Each was like a punch in the gut and I found myself grasping for words to try to ease the pain of the mothers, fathers, siblings and grandparents. There are none to be found.
If words could ease the pain of the loss of a child then that would be far too easy. Too simple. It’s difficult to find words of comfort for a reason and here we are once again.
Cody Treatch played baseball for Mountain View and he played it well. He pitched, he played first base. He played the game more than well, he was good. Really good. He signed with GateWay Community College and he told me, “It’s been my dream since I was a little kid to play college baseball and now it’s finally real and it feels awesome,” on a January day in 2016. It was awesome.
He played for the Myrtle Beach Hammerheads where he was named to the Carolina Shores Collegiate Summer Baseball League All-Star team. He signed with Southwestern College and he played for the Wellington Heat of the Kansas Collegiate League. As expected, Cody became a KCAC Scholar Athlete.
Cody married Kylee Twyman earlier this year, a successful young woman who he met in Wellington in 2018. Kylee comes from a strong baseball family. It was, and is, perfect. Kylee is expecting a son, Hunter. I’m told his nursery is ready. Hunter will be perfect.
I’ve known Cody’s parents Jacquie and Willie for about 12 years or so. Jacquie works at Twin Peaks K-8 and Willie is the Rural Metro Fire Marshall but that’s during the day. On weekends and several nights a week, Jacquie can be found helping out with District 5 Little League and Willie calls balls and strikes as an umpire for children young and old. They are both better than good. They are what my father called “Cimientos,” bedrocks – foundations. Never heard a negative word from Jacquie and Willie is the very definition of “gentle” in the word “gentleman.”
Cody followed his father’s boots and he became a cadet in the Rural Metro Fire system. On Wednesday, August 14, Cody was sent to the hospital for what was described as a heat and dehydration-related injury suffered during his training and he passed away on Friday, August 23. According to Rural Metro Fire Chief Karl Isselhard, Willie was able to pin a shield on Cody’s chest before he passed.
We all suffer losses. A grandparent. A parent. Your parent’s friends. Siblings. Our friends. Those losses are difficult and heartbreaking but they also all seem oddly natural. Natural, but still difficult to comprehend, and each person should be allowed to grieve in their own way. Time is time and our clocks cannot be set by others.
The loss of a grandchild and a child…. “I’m sorry for your loss” and “You are in my prayers” seem so insignificant and we feel stupid saying them but we try because there is no other way. The best thing to do is to be there. Be an anchor. Be a friend. Be someone.
I often felt grieving a child is like wading on the wet sands of a beach – not quite on solid ground but also not too far out – just enough to feel the tug of the waves as they come in and out. In and out. If you stumble, you will roll back to the shallows but if you grow weak, you will be pulled out with the current. If you know Kylee, Willie, Jacquie or Cody’s sister Lilli, I’m counting on you to be there to pick them up when they stumble and pull them back in when they start to drift too away or show restraint if warranted. You will know. Be there.
Cody is still with us in the form of his wife Kylee and their unborn son William Hunter. Immortality doesn’t come from a well or a bottle, it comes from the blood of the grandparents of our grandparents and it can be found in the grandchildren of our grandchildren. In this way, Cody will always be with us. People might one day tell Hunter that his smile reminds them of Cody but he will also have the qualities handed down from grandparents Janet and Franz Thuringer, Ingrid Bergman and Ray Huthofer along with Willie and Jacqui and Kylee and her father Rick Twyman and her mother and stepfather Marie and Shawn O’Haver.
May his sister Lilli be comforted by childhood memories along with Kylee’s siblings Kaden Twyman and Angie Lopez. Siblings carry a weight that cannot be described as a “void” because the emptiness is real, you can almost touch it but not quite. Cody will also be remembered by numerous aunts, uncles and cousins.
All honors from Rural Metro will be conducted at the funeral service for Cody scheduled for Saturday, September 7 at Casas Church (10801 N La Cholla Blvd) starting a 11 a.m. A reception will follow at the church. There will be a private burial for family and close friends.
Cody’s name will be listed at the National Fallen Firefighters Memorial located in Emmitsburg, Maryland.
LINK: MORE OLD PUEBLO ABUELO HERE
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