Brittney Huber and John Redman
I didn’t know what to expect when I entered the Dalton State College basketball offices.
Six months earlier, I had written about John Redman, the 24-year-old assistant coach who was critically injured in the April 28 car accident that took the life of his fiancee Brittany Huber. John was then in a coma for 17 days, under heavy sedation for weeks after that, and eventually endured several months of painful rehab and therapy exercises.
In mid-October, his head coach Tony Ingle called: “It’s time. John wants to tell his story.” Basketball season was approaching, and the young assistant was back on the court.
I’d heard the stories going around in early May, that John may not survive. Once it became apparent he would live, there was talk about his quality of life. Would he able to function normally? His parents were told his brain activity level was a “2” on a 1-10 scale. Anything below a “4” usually meant severe, often irreversible damage. They were told John would likely spend his remaining years under full-time care, in a nursing home environment. A return to coaching seemed impossible.
Exactly six months after the tragic accident, I am greeted by a friendly young man with a firm handshake. He walks briskly, and pauses to find the right word now and then, but no worse than you and me. “John is a walking miracle,” Coach Ingle says. “He gets a little fatigued sometime, so I encourage him to pace himself. Other than that, I treat him like everybody else. That’s what he wants, and that’s what he needs.”
John takes me through his six-month journey. “I still cry every day,” he said. There are reminders of Brittany everywhere. In his office are handwritten notes from Brittany, and plenty of photos. You see Brittany on the wall of his desktop computer, and on the actual wall of his office. “I still live in the same house we lived in. I haven’t touched her closet or anything.” As we spoke, shortly before October 31, which would have been Brittany’s 25th birthday, she is still a big part of his life. “I’m going down to Mobile this weekend to see her family. They have been so good to me. We’ll visit her grave, and release some balloons. She would have loved that.”
Like John, Brittany was from south Alabama, and both moved to north Georgia last year to follow their dreams. She was an artist and teacher, starting her career at Dalton’s City Park Elementary School as an educational assistant. At 23, John said he “somehow convinced a great coach to give me a chance.” He’s talking about Tony Ingle, a hometown hero who grew up in Dalton, and coached in the “big time” for a while before returning to build a program at DSC. The charismatic Ingle, who knows a little something about overcoming adversity, was as excited as anyone about John and Brittany’s wedding plans. “They’re like family to my wife and me,” Ingle said.
On Monday, April 28, as John and Brittany headed south to prepare for their weekend wedding, a tire blew out, sending their car out of control on I-85 south of Atlanta. Speed was not a factor, nor were any distractions or illegal substances. Brittany died instantly, and John barely survived. He has no recollection of the accident.
A passing motorist stopped to help, and after observing Brittany’s lifeless body, prayed for John while help could be summoned. Rescue workers couldn’t find John’s contact information; it was in his backpack. He was wearing a Dalton State shirt, and eventually someone got word to Coach Ingle about a young couple who appeared to be from his school. His heart sank.
Coach Ingle recalled, “I’m rushing down to Grady Hospital in Atlanta, and at the same time, trying to figure out how to contact their family. They were hundreds of miles from Dalton, and also hundreds of miles from Mobile, and I don’t carry around the phone number of my assistant coach’s fiancee’s parents. And all of that time, we didn’t know if John was gonna make it. It didn’t look good.”
John had five broken ribs, eight broken teeth, brain trauma, and 21 fractures in his skull. He regained consciousness about a month after the crash. A few days later, he was coherent enough to ask questions. Specifically, he wanted to know why Brittany hadn’t come to see him. For doctors, it was a delicate balancing act. John was making progress, but what would happen when he learned the sad truth? “It was tough, I’m not gonna lie to you,” he said. “At first I couldn’t believe it. But I realized I had to get better, I had to get out of the hospital. I didn’t want to be one of those people who just gives up.” He had to learn to talk again, and to walk again. “My dream, Brittany’s dream was for me to become a Division I head coach,” he said. “Everything those therapists told me to do, I did double. I was determined to get back to Dalton for basketball season.”
John soon learned that Brittany’s funeral had been held on Friday May 2, the day before the date of their scheduled wedding, in the same church in which they were to be married. The minister who was to officiate their wedding, instead presided over her funeral. She was buried in her beautiful wedding dress, as her best friends stood by in their bridesmaid dresses. Her groom was in a hospital 300 miles away, quietly fighting for his life.
Six months later, life is as normal as it can be for John Redman. “It used to seem like a dream. I know it isn’t a dream now. This is real.” He’s still far away from his real family, but his Dalton family helps fill the void. “The people in Dalton have been unbelievable,” he said. “Once I realized this story had been on the news, and people were waiting on me to come back, people I don’t even know come up and tell me they love me.” Motioning toward his mentor, he said, “Coach Ingle is like a dad, or maybe more like a big brother, because we pick at each other all the time. I couldn’t have a better role model.”
Coach Ingle said, “This is where he needs to be. Our players need him. One of them will miss a couple of shots, and think he’s having a bad day. All he’s got to do is look at Coach Redman, and realize, life is good. I can come back from anything.”
Brittany and John were the couple you loved to look at while they were posing for pictures in the park. The tall, handsome jock, and the slender, stylish artist. It seemed like they just stepped out of a magazine. Their love is preserved in photographs, those fleeting moments captured in life’s passing parade.
John Redman knows he’s here for a reason. “Please thank everyone for their prayers,” he told me as we parted company. “Tell them I’m going to be all right. Brittany and I had goals, and there’s no reason I can’t reach them. That’s what she wants me to do.”
“And one more thing,” he said. “If you know someone who thinks there’s no hope, tell them about me. You can come back, you really can.”
Used with permission from David Carroll’s ChattanoogaRadioTV.com
John Redman, Coach Tony Ingle and Dalton State players