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Community in Shock Over Softball
Death in Mishawaka
Death in Mishawaka
| If you would like to make a donation to the Naranjo family to help with costs relating to this terrible incident, you can do so by clicking the PayPal logo below. You can use your PayPal account, open a new account, or simply pay with a credit or debit card. You can donate in increments of $5.00; simply choose your quantity. Example: If you choose a quantity of five, you will be donating $25.00. On behalf of the Street Kids / Suburban Softball organization, Bonzai Softball and the Naranjo family, we thank you for your support. |
by TJ Jorgensen
Softball is a game. It supposed to be fun. But on
Saturday morning around 10am, the game no longer
became fun for a team in Mishawaka, Indiana as
Alberto Naranjo of Bonzai Softball was hit by a
thrown ball that apparently struck his carotid artery,
which supplies blood to the brain, killing him.
“He started to get up and then he just fell face first,”
teammate Brian Forray said. Forray is studying to
become a fireman. “That’s when I knew something
was wrong, when he started moving but then lost
consciousness. At first he had a good pulse but he
wasn't breathing. But then his pulse weakened. He
started turning blue so I started breathing for him.”
Paramedics arrived but were unable to resuscitate
him. They took "Berto" to Memorial Hospital in
South Bend where neurosurgeon Dr. Robert Yount
had pronounced him brain-dead early Sunday
morning. On Monday, he was taken off life support,
so that his organs could be procured for transplant
into other patients in need, St. Joseph County
Coroner Michael O’Connell said.
Mike Kromer of Bonzai Softball was on deck when
this horrible incident took place. Below are his exact
words of what happened:
"There was a ball hit to right center, I was on deck
and grabbed the bat out of the way. I look up and
see Alberto coming home and the 2nd baseman
throwing a laser to get him at the plate. The ball
began to drift up the third baseline and Berto slid into
home. The ball made full force contact behind his ear
right on his artery. He grabbed
his head in pain and started to
roll, he looked up at me... this
is haunting me now as I sit
here in tears. He then flopped
down on his belly and began
to snore. At first we all thought
he was just knocked out... few
minutes later he isn't waking,
911 was called. He stopped
breathing on his own and he
was given CPR by an EMT
on our team (Forray).
Ambulance shows up, we all go
to the ER. It was a few hours of
asking, seeing what is happening
then we found out he has bleeding
on the brain and has severe brain
damage. He was transported to
ICU after that. He was later
pronounced brain-dead. BERTO
IS 24 YEARS OLD!
We all went into a room with
Bertos mother where she thanked
us for the support, then said the
doctor will be wrong (and I hope
she is right), we said a prayer. He
won't leave me, he and my
daughter are all I have I know
God will pull him through she
kept saying."
On Sunday, members of the
Bonzai team, as well as dozens
of friends, gathered at Rose Park
where the incident took place.
WSBT-TV was on hand to talk
with members of Bonzai, and I
was there to talk to some people
about Berto, and to show my
support for a fallen softball
fraternity brother. Three other
members of the Street Kids team
was also on hand. No one outside
of Berto's close friends and the
Bonzai softball team were aware
of this gathering, as it was more
of an impromptu plan. I was called
so I can help bring to light more
of what happened to the softball
community.
So here I am staring at my
computer... staring at pictures
I have of Berto, searching for
the right words to describe how
I feel. How the softball world
feels outside of Bonzai's team. I
spoke to Berto five times in my
life, and every time he went out
of his way to say hi to me and
talk about the website or whatever. He mentioned to
me that he would like to get
involved with some of the things
we do with Street Kids Care
also. That made me smile.
"I know I am not a Street Kid,
but I would still like to help," he
said to me a couple of weeks ago
at Rose Park during a scrimmage
game.
"Of course," I said. Then I
reminded him of what our creed
is: "Change happens, Berto, when
others like yourself are inspired to
want to make a difference. I didn't
have to ask you to come help, yet
you felt compelled to offer. That is
awesome."
In speaking with several friends of
Berto's tonight at the park, I
discovered that my conversation
with him that night was an example
of how he lived his life. Very
selfless, always willing to help
others.
"If you needed anything, he'd
always be there. If he had 80
dollars in his pocket and you
needed 100, he'd come up with
it," said Berto's friend, Brad
Kaufman.
I stood in the rain and cold on the
diamond where Alberto Naranjo
last stood before losing contact
with the rest of the world. I looked
around the park and up into the
trees beyond the fields, asking God
for a reason for this. I am Christian
man and understand how faith
works, but then you are told by
one of your closest friends a few
days earlier that he has cancer.
Then you hear that your former
softball coach's wife has a seizure
and passes away suddenly in
Michigan. Then while you are
about to take the field in
Indianapolis on Saturday morning,
you get a call that Berto was hit in
the head and looked as if he was
not going to make it. These things
make you want to question why
God does the things He does. My
heart was starting to race a little,
and I started to get a little choked
up, when something happened that
calmed me almost immediately.
Mark Hershberger of SKS spoke
out in front of everyone and said these words:
Softball is a game. It supposed to be fun. But on
Saturday morning around 10am, the game no longer
became fun for a team in Mishawaka, Indiana as
Alberto Naranjo of Bonzai Softball was hit by a
thrown ball that apparently struck his carotid artery,
which supplies blood to the brain, killing him.
“He started to get up and then he just fell face first,”
teammate Brian Forray said. Forray is studying to
become a fireman. “That’s when I knew something
was wrong, when he started moving but then lost
consciousness. At first he had a good pulse but he
wasn't breathing. But then his pulse weakened. He
started turning blue so I started breathing for him.”
Paramedics arrived but were unable to resuscitate
him. They took "Berto" to Memorial Hospital in
South Bend where neurosurgeon Dr. Robert Yount
had pronounced him brain-dead early Sunday
morning. On Monday, he was taken off life support,
so that his organs could be procured for transplant
into other patients in need, St. Joseph County
Coroner Michael O’Connell said.
Mike Kromer of Bonzai Softball was on deck when
this horrible incident took place. Below are his exact
words of what happened:
"There was a ball hit to right center, I was on deck
and grabbed the bat out of the way. I look up and
see Alberto coming home and the 2nd baseman
throwing a laser to get him at the plate. The ball
began to drift up the third baseline and Berto slid into
home. The ball made full force contact behind his ear
right on his artery. He grabbed
his head in pain and started to
roll, he looked up at me... this
is haunting me now as I sit
here in tears. He then flopped
down on his belly and began
to snore. At first we all thought
he was just knocked out... few
minutes later he isn't waking,
911 was called. He stopped
breathing on his own and he
was given CPR by an EMT
on our team (Forray).
Ambulance shows up, we all go
to the ER. It was a few hours of
asking, seeing what is happening
then we found out he has bleeding
on the brain and has severe brain
damage. He was transported to
ICU after that. He was later
pronounced brain-dead. BERTO
IS 24 YEARS OLD!
We all went into a room with
Bertos mother where she thanked
us for the support, then said the
doctor will be wrong (and I hope
she is right), we said a prayer. He
won't leave me, he and my
daughter are all I have I know
God will pull him through she
kept saying."
On Sunday, members of the
Bonzai team, as well as dozens
of friends, gathered at Rose Park
where the incident took place.
WSBT-TV was on hand to talk
with members of Bonzai, and I
was there to talk to some people
about Berto, and to show my
support for a fallen softball
fraternity brother. Three other
members of the Street Kids team
was also on hand. No one outside
of Berto's close friends and the
Bonzai softball team were aware
of this gathering, as it was more
of an impromptu plan. I was called
so I can help bring to light more
of what happened to the softball
community.
So here I am staring at my
computer... staring at pictures
I have of Berto, searching for
the right words to describe how
I feel. How the softball world
feels outside of Bonzai's team. I
spoke to Berto five times in my
life, and every time he went out
of his way to say hi to me and
talk about the website or whatever. He mentioned to
me that he would like to get
involved with some of the things
we do with Street Kids Care
also. That made me smile.
"I know I am not a Street Kid,
but I would still like to help," he
said to me a couple of weeks ago
at Rose Park during a scrimmage
game.
"Of course," I said. Then I
reminded him of what our creed
is: "Change happens, Berto, when
others like yourself are inspired to
want to make a difference. I didn't
have to ask you to come help, yet
you felt compelled to offer. That is
awesome."
In speaking with several friends of
Berto's tonight at the park, I
discovered that my conversation
with him that night was an example
of how he lived his life. Very
selfless, always willing to help
others.
"If you needed anything, he'd
always be there. If he had 80
dollars in his pocket and you
needed 100, he'd come up with
it," said Berto's friend, Brad
Kaufman.
I stood in the rain and cold on the
diamond where Alberto Naranjo
last stood before losing contact
with the rest of the world. I looked
around the park and up into the
trees beyond the fields, asking God
for a reason for this. I am Christian
man and understand how faith
works, but then you are told by
one of your closest friends a few
days earlier that he has cancer.
Then you hear that your former
softball coach's wife has a seizure
and passes away suddenly in
Michigan. Then while you are
about to take the field in
Indianapolis on Saturday morning,
you get a call that Berto was hit in
the head and looked as if he was
not going to make it. These things
make you want to question why
God does the things He does. My
heart was starting to race a little,
and I started to get a little choked
up, when something happened that
calmed me almost immediately.
Mark Hershberger of SKS spoke
out in front of everyone and said these words:
"I am not much of a religious man, but I think now would be a good time to have a prayer for
Berto and his family."
Wow! Can you believe these words? Its not that Mark said it, its the way he said it.. I am not
much of a religious man... BUT.. that tells me that even though God knew there were people
hurting, he was going to chose someone I didn't expect and bring us all to our knees to pray.
When I dropped to my knee and listened to one of his teammates say a very heartfelt and
compassionate prayer, I began to get choked up again, but this time with a feeling that God is
working, even here on this cold Sunday afternoon. People stood up and hugged each other and
made their way either back to the hospital to see Berto or home, and I got in my car and headed
home, anxious to start writing about what happened this weekend. Thats when I looked at the
computer screen and drew a blank...
My wife came into my office and put her arms around me, staring at the pictures I had of Berto all
over my computer screens.
"I love you very much," she said to me.
She left my office, shut the door behind her, respecting the time she knew I needed to write this
story. Then I began to think about things that made me begin to cry.
Berto is never again going to hit a home run and come back to the dug out and say "I got mine." :)
Berto is never again going to smell the freshly cut grass at a softball park, or the feeling of the dirt
under his cleats in his familiar infield spot. He will never again take to the field at Rose Park with
his teammates and friends.
Berto is never again going to hear a wife tell him how much she loves him. He is not going to know
the feeling of being a father, to have a daughter wrap her arms around you and squeeze so tight.
He will not know what its like to take his son to his first t-ball game.
Berto will not be able to tell his sister and mother one more time how much he loves them, and
how proud he is to be a brother and son. Berto's mother will leave the hospital this week without
the son she raised into a man. She will not be able to hold him and feel him hold her back.
Berto will never be able to cry on your shoulder
many years from now when his mother passes
away.
You see, you and I can still do these things, but
Berto cannot, and somehow that just doesn't
seem fair.
He was 24 years old, in the prime of his life, and
he left us too soon.
For those of you who didn't know Berto, just
know that world lost a great guy. For those of
you that play softball, know that you lost a
fraternity brother. For those of you who knew
him best, always remember him, never forget
how much he touched your lives. Never forget
that big smile, that outgoing personality and the way he always seemed to make everyone around
him smile.
I will leave you tonight with this poem. This is the extended version that was read at the funeral:
Berto, you could have been anything, you were gifted and so smart.
Your family said uou would help anyone, you had such a big wonderful heart.
You had a way of looking through people, with your puppy dog eyes.
You had a way of making people happy, just be smiling erased the cries.
You were everything and anything anyone could have dreamed of;
You gave your family faith, you gave your friends hope, but most of all - you gave them love.
A week ago, life was beautiful and filled with fun,
But then that play happened, and it all came undone.
After it happened we didn’t want to know, but somehow we knew;
That there was a good chance, that we would never again see you.
So now we have to look at your mother, with a very broken heart.
Your life was cut down early; your life just did barely start.
You will never be forgotten, though you went away.
Because all of us will still pray for you, every single day.
We know you'll watch over us during games, sometimes we'll see you looking down.
You'll make holes in the floor of heaven, so you can watch your team around.
Your friends will never forget you, Berto, you were one of a kind.
And when we wake up, you're always the first thing on our minds.
I’m sure you’ve already been recruited, for God’s special softball team.
I’m sure He knows your game, and just how competitive you can be.
I am sure God is proud to have you, you are a great team mate.
But although the calendar says April, spring did die on this date.
There are no balls being thrown, no bases to be round.
For today at Rose Park its quiet… no games to be found.
The Naranjo family is here in disparaging sadness;
They began the day with frowns, without any gladness.
If there are silver linings, something up there in the clouds;
Its that parts of you will go on living, scattered throughout crowds.
You wrote me a letter - last night in my dream…
And told me to read it today, as sad as it may seem.
“Since I was called to come home, so many people have been in pain.
Please don't cry for me, my friends, for where I am, it doesn't rain.
God took me from your life last week, but I did not die in vain.
Parts of me will live in others, but my heart with you remains.
Please don't cry for me, my friends, for nothing's really changed.
A friend is a friend, no matter where I am. That will always stay the same.
I want you all to know, even though you cannot see;
That I will always be a part of you, your favorite Number Three."
(Portions of this story are courtesy of Jeff Parrott, South Bend Tribune and Sarah Rice, WSBT-TV).
Berto and his family."
Wow! Can you believe these words? Its not that Mark said it, its the way he said it.. I am not
much of a religious man... BUT.. that tells me that even though God knew there were people
hurting, he was going to chose someone I didn't expect and bring us all to our knees to pray.
When I dropped to my knee and listened to one of his teammates say a very heartfelt and
compassionate prayer, I began to get choked up again, but this time with a feeling that God is
working, even here on this cold Sunday afternoon. People stood up and hugged each other and
made their way either back to the hospital to see Berto or home, and I got in my car and headed
home, anxious to start writing about what happened this weekend. Thats when I looked at the
computer screen and drew a blank...
My wife came into my office and put her arms around me, staring at the pictures I had of Berto all
over my computer screens.
"I love you very much," she said to me.
She left my office, shut the door behind her, respecting the time she knew I needed to write this
story. Then I began to think about things that made me begin to cry.
Berto is never again going to hit a home run and come back to the dug out and say "I got mine." :)
Berto is never again going to smell the freshly cut grass at a softball park, or the feeling of the dirt
under his cleats in his familiar infield spot. He will never again take to the field at Rose Park with
his teammates and friends.
Berto is never again going to hear a wife tell him how much she loves him. He is not going to know
the feeling of being a father, to have a daughter wrap her arms around you and squeeze so tight.
He will not know what its like to take his son to his first t-ball game.
Berto will not be able to tell his sister and mother one more time how much he loves them, and
how proud he is to be a brother and son. Berto's mother will leave the hospital this week without
the son she raised into a man. She will not be able to hold him and feel him hold her back.
Berto will never be able to cry on your shoulder
many years from now when his mother passes
away.
You see, you and I can still do these things, but
Berto cannot, and somehow that just doesn't
seem fair.
He was 24 years old, in the prime of his life, and
he left us too soon.
For those of you who didn't know Berto, just
know that world lost a great guy. For those of
you that play softball, know that you lost a
fraternity brother. For those of you who knew
him best, always remember him, never forget
how much he touched your lives. Never forget
that big smile, that outgoing personality and the way he always seemed to make everyone around
him smile.
I will leave you tonight with this poem. This is the extended version that was read at the funeral:
Berto, you could have been anything, you were gifted and so smart.
Your family said uou would help anyone, you had such a big wonderful heart.
You had a way of looking through people, with your puppy dog eyes.
You had a way of making people happy, just be smiling erased the cries.
You were everything and anything anyone could have dreamed of;
You gave your family faith, you gave your friends hope, but most of all - you gave them love.
A week ago, life was beautiful and filled with fun,
But then that play happened, and it all came undone.
After it happened we didn’t want to know, but somehow we knew;
That there was a good chance, that we would never again see you.
So now we have to look at your mother, with a very broken heart.
Your life was cut down early; your life just did barely start.
You will never be forgotten, though you went away.
Because all of us will still pray for you, every single day.
We know you'll watch over us during games, sometimes we'll see you looking down.
You'll make holes in the floor of heaven, so you can watch your team around.
Your friends will never forget you, Berto, you were one of a kind.
And when we wake up, you're always the first thing on our minds.
I’m sure you’ve already been recruited, for God’s special softball team.
I’m sure He knows your game, and just how competitive you can be.
I am sure God is proud to have you, you are a great team mate.
But although the calendar says April, spring did die on this date.
There are no balls being thrown, no bases to be round.
For today at Rose Park its quiet… no games to be found.
The Naranjo family is here in disparaging sadness;
They began the day with frowns, without any gladness.
If there are silver linings, something up there in the clouds;
Its that parts of you will go on living, scattered throughout crowds.
You wrote me a letter - last night in my dream…
And told me to read it today, as sad as it may seem.
“Since I was called to come home, so many people have been in pain.
Please don't cry for me, my friends, for where I am, it doesn't rain.
God took me from your life last week, but I did not die in vain.
Parts of me will live in others, but my heart with you remains.
Please don't cry for me, my friends, for nothing's really changed.
A friend is a friend, no matter where I am. That will always stay the same.
I want you all to know, even though you cannot see;
That I will always be a part of you, your favorite Number Three."
(Portions of this story are courtesy of Jeff Parrott, South Bend Tribune and Sarah Rice, WSBT-TV).
