What I Learned in the Hospital the Night Kevin Was Shot
Some moments divide your life into “before” and “after.”
On January 12, 1994, our family received a phone call that changed everything. Kevin had been shot. He was only thirteen years old.
I was in Davis, California, when I learned what had happened. Kevin was in Ventura, roughly 400 miles away. I got into the car and began the seven-hour drive south, not knowing what I would find when I arrived.
By the time I reached Ventura County Medical Center, it was around three in the morning.
Kevin had been unconscious since arriving at the hospital. I walked into his room and saw my son lying in a hospital bed. For a moment, his eyes opened and he looked at me. Then he slipped back into unconsciousness.
He would remain unconscious for approximately five days.
The diagnosis that changed our family
The doctors eventually confirmed what we had feared. The bullet had damaged Kevin’s spinal cord, leaving him paralyzed from the chest down.
Everything we knew about our son’s future suddenly became uncertain.
Kevin had been an active kid who loved football. He dreamed about playing quarterback. Now doctors were telling us he might never walk again.
The weeks that followed were filled with hospital rooms, medical decisions, fear, anger, and questions that had no easy answers. Kevin initially believed he would recover and return to football. He continued to hold onto that hope even as the reality of his injury became clearer.
None of us understood then how long this journey would be.
The wound was deeper than the physical injury
Kevin eventually learned how to live with a wheelchair, but the physical injury was only one part of what he carried.
There was anger toward Brian, the young man who had shot him. There was grief over the life he thought he would have. There were years of addiction and recovery. There were hospitalizations, infections, surgeries, and the daily challenges of living with a spinal cord injury.
But there was also something else happening.
God was working on Kevin—and eventually on all of us.
Years later, Kevin would begin a completely different journey: a journey toward forgiveness.
Looking back
The hospital was where Kevin’s physical life changed forever.
But it was also the beginning of a much larger story.
A story about recovery.
A story about faith.
A story about relationships.
And ultimately, a story about forgiveness.
What I learned is that tragedy does not end when you leave the hospital. Sometimes the hardest part is learning how to live with what happened—and discovering what God can still do with a life that has been completely changed.
Kevin’s story became proof that a person can experience something devastating without allowing that experience to become the end of his story.
