Strawberry Crest fans packed the school’s home section May 21. They were as hyped for the team as if they were under Friday night lights in late August.
A small sea of black-and-red-clad Charger fans rose for every positive play and filled the evening air with their own brand of thunder.
Just outside the wall, junior Jake Meachum was cheering from his spot on the Crest sideline.
He stands.
Doctors had told him he would never do that after June 3, 2012.
Three years ago, Meachum was hit by a drunk driver and airlifted to Tampa General Hospital with life-threatening injuries. After waking from a four-month coma, his motor skills were so damaged that he was confined to a motorized chair. A tracheotomy damaged his vocal chords. He does much of his speaking through a program on his iPad.
But this chapter of Meachum’s life has been defined not by what he can’t do, but by what he’s been able to accomplish with the support of family, friends and Chargers football.
A THIRD CHANCE
Just over three years ago, Meachum, his brother, Bailey, and some friends were hanging out as they normally would, near the Meachums’ grandmother’s home. After playing basketball, the boys decided to take the 2011 Kawasaki Mule out for a ride and cruise around the property.
They rode west on Futch Loop. Bailey was driving, and friend Trent Toler also had a seat.
The stop sign at Wiggins Road got closer.
Bailey applied the brakes.
“But something was going on — nothing was happening with the brakes,” Bailey says. “By the time I had any time to react, I heard (Jake) say, ‘Whoa,’ and when I looked over my left shoulder all I saw was the grille. I don’t remember much after that.”
A drunk driver on the same road slammed into them.
Toler was strapped in and went into the ditch with the Mule. Bailey and Meachum flew off into a field. It was the exact spot where their mother’s current home was later built on.
There weren’t many places in Meachum’s brain that weren’t bleeding. He was airlifted to Tampa General to fight for his life.
Meachum died twice as doctors rushed to relieve the pressure put on his brain. They performed a tracheotomy to help him breathe. He had around 72 hours to live — if things went well.
The driver blew a .248 four hours after the accident.
“You see people at .11, and they can’t even say their ABCs and walk,” Joie Shell, Meachum’s mother, says.
Meachum sunk into a coma. His blood pressure and heart rate were uncontrollable. His stroke levels were at 220 over 180. His heart rate at 108 beats per minute.
“We struggled for those four months he was in a coma,” Shell says. “The injury was called a severe diffuse axonal injury with sharing.”
That meant that the force of the impact detached the neuron connections in his brain and caused bleeding all over his brain that threatened to leak down into the brain stem and spinal cord.
But he pushed through.
His recovery went better than the doctors thought. Somehow, the brain trauma Meachum suffered did not reach so far as to affect his cognition. He may have been as banged up as one could be, but the boy never lost his sharpness, quick wit or motivation.
He’d need all three traits to get through the tough times ahead.
MAJOR ADJUSTMENTS
The road to recovery presented a slew of new challenges for Meachum, as he had to work to gain control over many functions people take for granted. Eating, drinking and general movement were difficult. The accident weakened his left hip greater than the right one. The family had to bring in a full-time nurse to help care for him. It took several tries to find one who could match his strong personality.
Meachum did, and still does, have a strong support system in family and friends. But another thing he had to adjust to was switching schools from Plant City to Strawberry Crest this past year. Shell describes it as a “fresh start.”
Switching schools is always a challenge, especially for high schoolers. Adding in the drive time from the eastern edge of Plant City to Dover, Meachum knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Shell planned to get her son any extra support she could. She turned to his love of football.
Fortunately for her, one of Meachum’s new teachers was already one step ahead.
PART OF THE TEAM
Chargers assistant football coach Will Terry works with special needs students at the school. As soon as he met Meachum, the two struck up an immediate friendship.
“He came in, and every day he always had on a new pair of shoes,” Terry says. “I’m a sports guy, and I know whose shoes he’s rocking. And that’s how we struck up a conversation, over sports.”
Meachum’s involvement with the team started with a set of helmet stickers for his chair. But as Terry got to know Meachum better, he became so impressed that he wanted to do something special to help with the transition between schools. He spoke with Chargers head coach John Kelly about getting Meachum involved with the team.
“I said, ‘Listen, there’s this kid named Jacob Meachum, and I want to make him part of the football team,’” Terry says.
Kelly agreed, and the Chargers have done everything short of giving Meachum pads and a playbook. He was given his own white jersey: no. 7.
“God’s number,” Meachum says, referring to the number of days it took for God to create man and the world.
He shares the number with linebacker/running back hybrid Chase Blackmon.
He didn’t just gain teammates. He gained friends.
Running back Theo Williams attended Tomlin Middle School with Meachum in seventh grade, and Williams says that they quickly rekindled a solid friendship.
“We had P.E. together,” Williams says. “He liked clowning around a lot, and I do, too, so that’s how we became friends.”
Now that the two are reunited, Williams played a big part in helping Meachum go beyond friendship with the team and feel more like part of a brotherhood — exactly what Meachum, Terry and Shell were hoping for.
“Theo is my best friend on the whole team,” Meachum says.
Meachum gets the full team treatment at Crest’s games, attends practices and is held to the same standards in the classroom as the football players.
“For us, and guys like Theo, to see what Jake has been through, you think doing sprints out in the summer heat is hell,” Terry says. “No. That’s easy. This, right here, is tough. … Now, we have a model of what hard work is. Now, we have a model of what perseverance is.”
The extra support has given Meachum more motivation to get out of the chair for good. He uses a walker whenever he can and often pushes himself to see how quickly he can move with it. His goal is to one day walk independently.
Should he reach that goal, he and Terry want the same thing: to be able to coach football together.
Meachum has a long way to go to reach that point. But if he’s already defied his doctors’ predictions, then maybe — just maybe — he will.
Contact Justin Kline at jkline@plantcityobserver.com.
“HOT WHEELS”
When coach Will Terry was getting to know Jake Meachum, he noticed Meachum moved around a lot — and as quickly as possible. He’s a speed demon in the chair. Terry gave him a nickname to reflect that.
“We hooked him up with some helmet stickers, and I gave him the nickname, ‘Hot Wheels,’” Terry says. “He tools around on campus like he owns the place. He’s got a couple gears on there.”
The name has stuck with everyone, including Meachum’s family.
SEE FOR YOURSELF
Meachum’s big moment from the spring game was captured on video, which Terry has since shared on Facebook for all to see. To watch, visit www.facebook.com/sunceray.dean/videos/1610817499194898/?pnref=story