Column: Above the clouds, their stories keep climbing

You hear about the Pikes Peak Ascent. You see the pictures and read about the altitude, distance and physical challenge. You think you know what to expect.

But until you are there, you really don’t know.

I was invited to Colorado to join Keep Kids Alive Drive 25’s Live Forward! Run to Remember during Pikes Peak weekend. The event brings runners and families together to honor loved ones killed in preventable traffic crashes.

I was there for my only son, Conner.

Conner was 16 when he was killed in a 100% preventable crash in 2019. Since then, I have dedicated my life to ensuring his story does not end as a statistic.

On Pikes Peak, I watched someone carry his story toward the clouds.

Nearly 2,000 runners came with different motivations, chasing personal goals, testing physical limits and continuing a tradition. Among them were runners carrying the names and memories of people whose lives were taken in preventable crashes.

The Pikes Peak Ascent climbs 13.32 miles to more than 14,000 feet. As runners climb, everything changes. The air thins. Temperatures drop. The landscape transforms.

Then there are the clouds.

It is difficult to describe standing among them knowing someone is climbing that mountain carrying your child’s memory.

Some athletes push beyond what they thought possible, reaching the finish completely spent and needing oxygen or assistance.

We also saw heartbreak. Some runners could not finish. Altitude, physical exhaustion or threatening weather ended their climb. Their disappointment was heartbreaking.

But that mountain taught me something: There is honor in reaching the summit, but there is also honor in having the courage to begin the climb.

Every runner carrying one of our loved ones had already accomplished something extraordinary. Another person heard their name, saw their face and learned their story.

For Conner, that runner was Matt. This was Matt’s 19th Pikes Peak Ascent. I will forever be grateful that I did not have to climb that mountain myself for my son to be represented there. Matt carried Conner with him. As a mother, there are no adequate words for that gift.

Afterward came something I had not anticipated: the camaraderie. There were conversations, hugs and tears. Some tears were for those we miss. Others came from runners finally able to say, “I did it. I gave it everything I had.”

Different people. Different stories. One mountain.

I arrived believing the weekend would be about remembering Conner. I left understanding it was about something bigger.

It was about living forward.

Traffic fatalities are too often reduced to statistics, percentages and trends. Behind every number, however, is a person who had a laugh, dreams, people who loved them and a life that mattered.

Conner is not a statistic. He was a son, brother, friend, student, athlete and goalkeeper. He was 16, and he should still be here.

But death does not get to erase the impact of a life.

Conner was on Pikes Peak because Matt carried him there. He is in the schools where I share his story. He is in the teenager who puts the phone down and the passenger who says, “Slow down.” He is in every life that may be saved because his story continues.

I came down that mountain carrying two emotions above all others: gratitude and honor. Gratitude for those who carry our loved ones forward. And the honor of being Conner’s mom.

Above the clouds, I was reminded that Conner’s life did not stop making a difference when his heart stopped beating.

He is still moving forward. And so am I.

Tammy “Gweedo” McGee of Quinton is the founder and executive director of the Gweedo Memorial Foundation. Following the death of her 16-year-old son, Conner, in 2019, she has dedicated her life to preventing traffic deaths through education, advocacy and policy change, including eight pieces of traffic-safety legislation in Virginia.