In addition to
Michel, Tyler's father also shares his heartbreaking perspective: "I want to introduce you to mine and Michel’s son Tyler Townsend.
"Tyler and his mother were at home after school on Feb 5. Tyler was playing with his dogs in the house. His mother asked Tyler to put the dogs in their pen. Tyler took the dogs out one at a time. Shortly after Tyler had taken the second dog out (approximately 5-8 minutes), his mother received a phone call from Tyler’s uncle. He had called to thank Tyler for a birthday present he had received. His mother went outside and found Tyler laying face first in the yard less than 15 feet from the back door.
There had been no sound, no cry for help, nothing to indicate a problem of any kind. Tyler’s mother frantically turned Tyler over and screamed for his uncle to hurry. His mother began CPR, less than two minutes passed and his uncle arrived and took over the CPR. Ten minutes later I arrived and immediately began helping with the CPR.
Tyler’s uncle and I performed CPR for what seemed an eternity. 25-30 minutes later the ambulance, four sheriff vehicles, and three EMT vehicles arrived. The EMT’s performed CPR and tried to resuscitate Tyler for another thirty minutes at our home. They then loaded him in the ambulance and we all left for the emergency room.
Less than an hour later Tyler was pronounced dead at the hospital.
Now for those of you who have never had to perform CPR on your son. CPR is a very personal experience. You are trying to deliver life into what seems a lifeless body. Tyler’s eyes were open and fixed. There was a milky white glaze covering them. His pupils and iris were almost not distinguishable. No pulse was evident his tongue was swollen and far back in his throat. The grass from the yard was in his throat and mouth and we were constantly clearing it. Some type of secretion kept coming up and His uncle was constantly having to clear this as well.
Chest compressions require a fair amount of force. I felt on more than one occasion what seemed like Tyler’s ribs cracking or breaking under my hands. We are taught not to stop until medical help arrives. Well how would you like to feel your son’s ribs break under your hands and you still have to keep going.
I thank God every day I had Tyler’s uncle with me helping me but I also wish he didn’t have to go through this. When the ambulance arrives you will fight a battle within yourself. You will not want to stop because every part of your being is fighting and praying for your son to revive.
Now it gets worse. You move out of the way and you watch strangers performing the same act on your son and you see them doing something different and you wonder if you were doing it wrong.
You feel helpless just standing there. They shock your son, you see him move, your heart will jump in your throat with a brief moment of hope. You will watch the monitor and see some activity not knowing what it means, when they pause to shock him again you see the lines on the monitor flatten out. They shock him again and you get to repeat the process all over.
Eventually you notice they are not working as diligently as they started. Whether through exhaustion or despair their movements begin to slow. Your only hope is that some sort of miracle will happen and you begin to pray even more.
Then you get to watch them load your son in an ambulance and race to the hospital. I was never more than a hundred feet behind traveling at speeds close to 90 miles and hour. My eyes never left the activity I could see in the back glass.
You spend all your energy trying to comfort your son’s mother but she can see the same thing you can. The EMTs in the ambulance seem to stop performing CPR and once again you get your hopes up. Then you notice they are just changing positions because the one doing the compressions has tired out.
You get to arrive at the hospital park your truck and run inside just in time to stop at a desk and give information. You then get to hear a loud cry in emergency waiting room, run over there and find out the cry was from the rest of the family who beat you to the hospital and were just told your son was dead.
After that you don’t remember anything for awhile except what your son looked like laying there under you hands and wondering what you forgot or didn’t do.
We all sat at the Hospital over thirty friends and family in total disbelief. Fingers were pointed, statements were made feelings were hurt and many tears were shed. Grown men cried like babies, and still no one knew what had happened to this young man who brought joy to so many of our lives.
Well one long sleepless night followed. “Why ?” was the predominant question on everyone’s mind. Friends and family gathered around our home on Feb 6, seeking comfort, and to comfort. The phone never quit ringing from people we never heard of and people we haven’t heard from in a while. All our lives were put on hold for what seemed an eternity, and still no one knew why.
Please if you KNOW of this already do not hide it.
Several parents we have spoken to in the past week have told us of their kids experimenting with Huffing. These children knew and played with our son. Their parents kept silent “ashamed” their children were doing such a thing. I do not blame anyone for what has happened to my son but prevention is always better than the cure.
If you think this won’t happen to you or can not happen to you, please re-read this letter and prepare yourself for what just may be inevitable!
We all believe our children will out live us and work our whole lives to provide a future for them. My son’s future is with God now and though I rejoice in this I miss him terribly.
