The day before the crash, he grabbed lunch at the Wyoming Union with two former teammates. And now on a piercingly blue morning, perhaps 100 feet from the union doors, he stood in front of a newly constructed memorial to his lunchmates and a third member of the school’s swim and diving team.
Before him were three white crosses with blue hearts affixed to the center, each adorned with flowers and a name: Charlie Clark. Luke Slabber. Carson Muir. Beyond the crosses lay Prexy’s Pasture, the heart of the University of Wyoming.
On Feb. 21, he ate lunch with Clark and Slabber. The next day, the pair and Carson drove south on Highway 287, the road that connects the university town of Laramie with Fort Collins, Colorado. Ten miles south of the state line, the vehicle rolled, killing the trio and injuring two other members of the swim and diving team who were also in the vehicle.
The New York Post later published photos of the crash, the wreckage resting in a field beside the highway, rescue vehicles casting long shadows on the ground. “I am heartbroken,” Gov. Mark Gordon told the state. So was everyone, it seemed.
People consoled one another on Facebook. Flags were lowered to half-mast. A swimmer on a rival team adorned her cheek with the symbol of Wyoming: the bucking horse and rider.
Back near the student union, he faced the memorial, his hands in his pockets, a camouflage hoodie covering most of his head. His shadow arched forward, toward the center cross. To his right, his girlfriend, another former teammate, was hunched in front of the cross dedicated to Clark, writing a message in black marker.
The hearts, in fact, were covered in messages from mourners. “Rest easy, brother.” “I love you so much.” “We will miss your beautiful smile.”
The University of Wyoming has felt the sting of loss before. You can find a monument to students who died over the years not far from the impromptu memorial to the swimmers. Etched into stone are the words “Always A Cowboy.” In 2001, eight members of the university cross-country team died on the same stretch of highway. Last month, a student visited a nearby recreation area and never returned.
But each tragedy is its own, with grief the great isolator. One moment, you’re eating lunch with your friends. Five days later, you’re saying goodbye to them mere feet from where you’d last dined together.
At the memorial, his girlfriend finished writing her message. She stood, and the two embraced. Then they faded back into the grieving campus.
Editor’s note: The couple in this story, both former teammates with the student athletes who died in the Feb. 22 crash, requested anonymity. WyoFile granted the request to give privacy during a painful time.
