Columbus, OH — Yesterday I watched the video of the honor walk for Hunter Myers, and it is the most emotionally excruciating and beautiful thing I have ever seen. I do not think anyone who has viewed it will ever forget it. It is that powerful.
An honor walk is a ceremonial event to commemorate a patient whose organs are about to be donated. Hunter, who would shortly be removed from the life support apparatus that kept him breathing after his tragic accident at The Meadows last week, was an organ donor. He would die but, in so doing, would help keep others alive. At the family’s request, Chris Gooden, the track’s incredible photographer and videographer, filmed Hunter’s loved ones saying goodbye to him and captured the incredible show of support by family, friends, horsepeople, drivers in their racing colors, and hospital employees who lined the hallways as the gurney carrying Hunter, his colors lain atop his body, was wheeled toward the operating room where his organs would be harvested. Chris posted the footage on social media over the weekend, and it quickly went viral.
I did not know Hunter, although we said hello to each other on the few occasions when our paths crossed. In some ways, however, I feel like I did. That is how it is in American harness racing, where being part of the industry is like living in a small town where you know most everybody — and when you don’t know someone, you have a friend who does. That can be good and bad. As in most small towns, gossip can run rampant, and, oh, how we can fight amongst ourselves. But the converse is also true. We fiercely protect and help when someone is truly in need. I have seen this time and again over the years — a no-questions-asked, collective reaction that is automatic and selfless and inherent, and that delivers a simple, immutable message: we take care of our own.
The outpouring of love and support on social media has been staggering. I would mention names, but there are so many and I am afraid that I would omit someone. Across the industry, assistance funds are being organized, benefit t-shirts are being sold, and tributes at racetracks, which popped up almost immediately, continue. Like everyone else, I want to know what I can do, and, more specifically, how the USTA can help. Suggestions rapidly have been brought to us since Thursday, and we are working to decide how we can best assist. Active discussions will resume today.
Accompanying the sorrow and grief is the very much human need for answers. How could this happen? Social media has been rife with speculation. We await the results of the ongoing investigation into the accident. Perhaps there are things we can learn from it, ways that harness racing can better safeguard its drivers and horses. Maybe it was just cruel, horrible randomness. Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in between.
The urge to do something — anything — is so strong right now, but on this front, we need to wait and let the facts guide our actions. We need to get it right.
In less than 90 seconds, the honor walk video reveals multitudes. We see a family saying goodbye to a son, a brother, a fiancé, and a father who was so very much loved. We see friends and his fellow drivers overwhelmed by anguish and loss. We see hospital workers in masks and gowns, doing their jobs while absorbing every bit of the unadulterated emotion that surrounds them. And we see Hunter, about to cross the finish line, once more a winner.
Like me, you might not have known Hunter Myers. But in that moment, you most certainly did.
by Mike Tanner for USTA