For family, life changes in an instant

BY VANESSA McCRAY
vmccray@record-eagle.com

March 30, 2008 11:36 am

—

TRAVERSE CITY — Cindy Gerhard's life is divided in half.

There are the years that came before July 24, 2004, and those that came after.

That July day began like any other, but ended with her son Clinton's suicide. Grief followed, but so did a desire to prevent others from the pain of losing a loved one.

"Being a survivor, there's a before and an after," Cindy said.

And before July 24, 2004, warning signs and cautionary tales about suicide and its victims didn't apply to her.

That was before. This is after.

But first, in the beginning, there was a boy named Clinton.

Before

Clinton T. Gerhard was born at home in Traverse City on a May day in 1982.

He grew up with an older sister, now Rachell Ryan of Leelanau County, and younger brother Caleb. Mother Cindy and father Greg Gerhard later divorced.

Rachell, Clinton's confidant, could calm her brother by rubbing her hand across the back of his neck. Clinton, in turn, acted as Caleb's guardian. About 18 months separated the brothers, and friendship kept them close. They had look-alike eyes that grinned back when they smiled.

"I want to remember him for what me and him used to (do) as kids — catching snakes ... and catching frogs," said Caleb. "Not the last three months of his life."

Clinton attended Central Grade School in Traverse City and later West Junior High School. He liked trick bikes and loved to snowboard, starting out on a pressed wood board without bindings that his father made. The youngsters often trooped over to a nearby golf course, where they built jumps on a hill.

"Clinton would sit at the window, and if it didn't snow enough, he would be disappointed," said Cindy.

He was the kid who hardly studied but pulled good grades anyway, his family said. Math came easily, but he grew bored and skipped class.

Clinton enrolled at Traverse City High School after a year at West Senior High. He aged out of the alternative school and earned his high school diploma through Traverse Bay Area Intermediate School District's adult education program in combination with Northwestern Michigan College's Michigan Technical Education Center.

Clinton's graduation was not the only one the family celebrated in 2004. That spring, Cindy finished her bachelor's degree from Grand Valley State University, and Caleb graduated from Traverse City High School. Mother and sons all had much to look forward to.

Michigan Tech accepted Clinton, who planned to complete two years of study at NMC and finish his degree at the Upper Peninsula university. Clinton wanted to be an engineer; handy with machinery, he hoped to design and build snowboards.

Throughout his teens, Clinton struggled with drugs and alcohol. But at 22, he was sober, engaged to be married, plotting his future and had his pick of area tool and die jobs. He found work rewarding.

"This is the kind of kid who would not get up before noon, and now he's getting up at 5 a.m.," said Rachell. "He really had a goal, a purpose. That's why it was so unbelievably earth-shaking and shocking when he was gone."

He started a new job on June 28. Less than a month later, he took his own life.

During

In the months leading up to Clinton's death, struggles darkened his bright future.

Caleb said his brother was troubled by credit card debt and "wanted to take care of it." He was working hard and trying to stay clean from drugs, a battle both brothers waged.

"He wasn't using, and he was dealing with these raw emotions," Caleb said.

Occasional bursts of anger revealed the depth of those feelings. Rachell heard a crash one day in the house. Clinton had punched a hole in a dresser. Her brother was "not a talker," but Rachell connected with him.

One talk sticks out in her mind. Clinton left the house upset, and Rachell drove off to find him. When they returned to the house, they sat in the driveway and Clinton opened up. He told his sister there were voices in his head instructing him to kill someone else or kill himself.

Rachell said she reacted calmly, called a few numbers and made an appointment for the next day at a local mental health agency. Clinton went to the appointment and planned for another visit.

"I thought I was getting (him) help," said Rachell.

That first appointment was in late June, and Clinton's mother took him to the next session on July 7.

"I looked around and read things while I was there and thought, 'This is the place he needs to be,'" Cindy said.

The agency told Clinton he needed to be hospitalized for care, but he did not manifest suicidal signs at the appointment, said Cindy. As an adult, Clinton could opt out of the treatment. That's what he chose, and Cindy felt OK in the following weeks. Her son went to work every day and appeared calm and upbeat.

Then came that day, July 24.

Cindy went to the farmers market and returned home to take a short nap. When she awoke, she gave Clinton a big hug for cleaning up the kitchen. She had plans for the day and felt a twinge of uncertainty about leaving Clinton alone. But, the brothers arranged to play basketball later.

Cindy dropped Clinton off at Meijer with his bike. He wanted to buy a few items, including a CD. That was the last time she saw him alive.

At the store, Clinton ran into his grandparents by coincidence, and later met up with Caleb and friends. Clinton was excited to see him, Caleb remembered. After some time, Clinton asked for a ride back to the house. Caleb noticed his brother appeared upset about something when he dropped him off.

"I just told him, 'I'll see you later,' and he said, 'Yeah, later, man,'" Caleb said.

Caleb prepared to leave the house, but the reluctant vehicle wouldn't slide into gear. Finally, the car started, and Caleb took off. Like his mother, he felt strange about leaving Clinton. A while later, intuition told Caleb he should return home.

Caleb remembered saying, "We need to go. We need to go."

He called home, and on the other end of the line, heard his mother on the phone, screaming as she tried to call 9-1-1. Cindy had returned to the house, found it dark — and found Clinton.

The police were prompt and thoughtful. Cindy sat outside until she shivered.

Rachell, no longer in Traverse City, made plans to fly back immediately. She doesn't remember much, except sitting on the floor and shaking.

"There was no note. He didn't think it through," she said.

The funeral home and friends passed along counseling information to Cindy. But it was the beginning of many long hard days.

After

Following her son's suicide, Cindy Gerhard sought help.

She read literature about suicide and attended a support group of parents who had lost children. The first couple of times she could only cry.

"I remember looking at them thinking, 'They look like they are OK. Maybe one day I'll be OK," Cindy said.

Everyone touched by Clinton's death grieved differently.

Rachell tried counseling a few times, but decided she wasn't ready for it. She needed to move, to push herself physically. On her own, she carried out a heavy, two-person dresser, lifting it without a problem.

"My healing was in the house. I folded all of Clinton's laundry and put it in its place ... I packed everything up," she said.

Caleb first slipped into anger and frustration.

"The pain was so deep. After those first three months, it was just denial," Caleb said.

He returned to some of his old ways.

"(I) got in trouble again ... got clean and faced all the facts," Caleb said. "It was really difficult being able to look at that ... I had a loved one that killed himself. I have to stay alive. I can't give up."

Grief and shock smacked Rachell full force about a year after her brother's death. She underwent professional treatment. Rachell believes Clinton should have gone directly to the emergency room and informed the hospital of his suicidal thoughts. It's the option she now tells others to employ if they or someone else is suicidal.

Cindy and Caleb both joined a local Suicide Prevention Coalition, which developed a plan for Leelanau and Grand Traverse counties. The effort stresses public awareness, intervention and follow-up support services for those dealing with the aftermath of a suicide.

"If I can keep another mother from feeling the way I did, it is worth it," Cindy said.

When parents take their teens to check out colleges, Cindy recommends they ask about the university's mental health resources. She also suggests parents talk to children about suicide and teach them how to recognize symptoms in friends. Signs of suicide should be as familiar as warning signals of a heart attack: The brain is an organ just as susceptible as any other, she said.

The family presses on as seasons change and meaningful anniversaries approach and pass by on the calender. Cindy now rejoices when someone shows her a picture of Clinton she has never seen. That's "like finding treasure," she said. "The sadness, the grief never goes.

"It just changes."

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