Newspaper Page Text
This is the first in a two
part series chronicling
Drum Major Clayton
..■r Samples recovery from a
Afcv car collision.
W, By Mary Pittman
B- Lifestyles Editor
'>•" •' I layton Samples was wearing his
I safety belt on May 26 but that did-
I n’t prevent the dash board from
crushing forward or the windshield
I from exploding.
The impact snapped both his
thigh bones in half, broke his right
knee cap, heel and a bone in his right foot.
The injuries would be devastating to most
any 17-year-old, but Clayton is the drum
major at Forsyth Central High School.
This is the story of his struggle to take the
podium at Central’s first football game this
Friday evening at Sequoyah High School in
Cherokee County. Progress and challenges,
are both measured in degrees.
The crash was three days before his 18th
birthday and 97 days before the first game.
At this point, nothing is certain except
Samples’ determination.
97 days
“Forsyth County’ 9-1-1 ”
“There’s been a head-on collision on Hurt
Bridge Road right in front of Oolala
Landscaping.”
“Are there injuries?”
“Yes. It looks like there are injuries. ...
Please hurry."
Clayton was heading home from Berean
Baptist Church driving his father’s 1987 Ford
Aerostar north on Hurt Bridge Road.
According to the police report, he crossed the
centerline on a curve and slammed head-on
into a Ford F-150. There were no skid marks
from either vehicle to indicate that the brakes
were applied prior to impact. The posted
speed limit is 45 mph.
A second call came in about the wreck and
the dispatcher asked the woman if she had a
cell phone and could go out and check on the
the injured and call back.
“I just called about the Hurt Bridge
Wreck. One of the guys is really bad.
Everybody's hurt, but one person is really
bad.”
“ What’s wrong with him ? ”
“I don't know. He’s screamin ’. He’s stuck
in the car. Two of them are trapped. It’s really
bad. He’s bleedin’ from the face and every
thing. He's obviously in pain. He’s screamin ’.
We need somebody out here quick.”
“We’re getting someone out there as fast
as we can. What vehicle is he in?"
“Astrovan. There’s one person in the
Astrovan and two in the truck. And it’s, 1
mean it’s, it’s horrible."
Because of the severity of the impact and
injuries, rescue workers transported Clayton
to North Fulton Regional Hospital, the nearest
Level II trauma center with a trauma team and
surgical services readily available.
Word of the accident spread quickly.
Clayton’s friend Adam Gravitt, was studying
with Michael Davidson for final exams. The
two took a break and went to Chick-fil-A
where they heard about the accident. They
went to nearby Baptist Medical Center, but
Clayton wasn’t there. Adam called Mrs.
Samples home from the hospital and told
them Clayton had been in a bad wreck, but
they [Adam and Michael] didn’t know where
he was. The friends then went to the scene of
the accident where they learned Clayton was
at NFRH.
A letter from the past finally gets an answer
It seems theirs will forever be a
story of near misses.
“I am eleven years old now but
will be about 21 when you read this
letter,” he wrote to her when she was
bom. “When you do read this letter,
please write to me.”
A boy named William Hughlett of
Petersburg, Virginia, was the author
of the note and he was writing to
Elisabeth Martin of Atlanta. The son
of a Methodist minister, he asked the
baby’s parents to have her wait to
read his note until her own eleventh
birthday.
She kept it for more than a
decade, tucked inside her treasure
box, wondering about its mysterious
contents.
When she finally read William’s
letter, it initiated a fresh mystery that
would exist for 76 years, until this
Forsyth Life
Major Comeback
FCHS drum major hopes to climb back to the top
X '
s
Cheryl
Rhodes k ' «
very week.
Though she wanted to respond to
his request for her to write him back,
he was nowhere to be found. His
family had moved away and their
parents no longer kept in touch. An
article of her search appeared in the
local paper, but to no avail.
Elisabeth grew up to become pro
ficient in many things, including ten
nis and playing the violin. Following
years of medical schooling, she went
on to become Atlanta’s first female
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Photos by Tammy Garrison
Clayton Samples, the drum major at Forsyth
Central High School, is working to regain the
strength and mobility required to conduct the
band at the first football game this Friday at
Sequoyah High. He broke both thigh bones, his
right knee, heel and foot in a May 26 accident.
Clayton’s parents had no idea where he
was or how badly he was hurt.
“He said, ‘Mrs. Samples, Clayton has
been in an accident. They’re loading him in
an ambulance and he’s covered in blood,”’
Rita Samples recalls of the phone call she
received. “You don’t tell a mother that.” She
used the cell phone to call hospitals and her
husband used the house phone to try and find
their son.
“It felt like an eternity,” mom recalled.
They sent their elder son to the accident
scene, about half a mile away. The officer
asked him if Clayton was wearing a red tie.
(It was gold.)
“I probably heard about the wreck before
his parents did,” said John Mashburn, music
director at FCHS. “Even though this isn’t the
small town it used to be, there’s not a lot that
goes on with my band kids both good and
bad that I don’t hear about.”
The doctor did surgery that night putting
rods in both of Clayton’s legs. Two days later,
he surgically repaired the crushed knee cap.
gynecologist and, many years later, a .
wife and stepmother. nT»I
Still, tucked in Wr
■ 1 A
I
Elisabeth Darlow’s
' book of memories, lay the
penned letter from a boy who wrote,
%
*■>!' z
a 4B Celebrated
occasions: weddings,
engagements, births
mKi -• .AL
Both legs were wrapped in bandages. The
right leg was immobilized from the hip to the
foot. It would stay that way for two months.
He was not to put any weight on either leg.
31 days
“The doctor said I can put full pressure on
my right leg.” said Clayton. “I can start thera
py and start building the muscle up.”
He began therapy three times a week at
Healthsouth, in the Kmart shopping center.
Clayton could only bend his right knee slight
ly more than half of what is normal 74
degrees out of 135.
25 days
The poster in the waiting room at
Healthsouth is titled “Goals.” It’s one of those
inspirational items you can find at the mall. It
says, “The greatest thing in the world is not
so much where we are ... but what direction
we are going in.”
Clayton’s goal: climbing the stairs to the
podium at the first game.
Clayton’s reality: he can hardly get on the
stationary bicycle. His right knee won’t
straighten or bend fully. He can only move
the pedals about three-quarters of the way.
His legs rock back and forth. This is with
improvement in his knee flexion of almost 50
percent to 102 degrees.
“I’m expecting to walk by the end of this
week or next,” he said, brimming with confi
dence. “Then I need to start climbing stairs so
I can get up on the podium.”
As he leaves Healthsouth and cautiously
works his way down the curb, he suddenly
realizes it’s not enough to be able to get up
the podium stairs to conduct.
He must also be able to get down.
18 days
Clayton ambles in for therapy after the
first day of school, still supported by crutches.
He wears a shoe on the left and an orthopedic
boot on the right, and states that his foot and
heel are hurting and everything’s sore.
Despite the pain, his weightbearing on both
legs has increased from the previous week.
“Sorry if my feet are smelly,” says Clayton
as physical therapist Tiffany Hill starts
removing his shoe and brace. “I’m wearing
my church socks and that makes it even
worse. If you jump back, I won’t be offend
ed.”
“You’re the second one with smelly feet
today,” she teases.
Hill places the styrofoam cylinder under
his knees. He lifts one leg at a time. It’s one
of the more difficult exercises he does.
“I can do it when I turn my foot in, but
that’s cheatin’. When I keep it straight, I get a
pain right there,” he says as he rubs the outer
side of his left knee. Despite the pain, he con
tinues to do the repetitions with his foot
straight.
Mini-squats are a 2-for-l exercise accord
ing to Hill. They loosen the ankle and build
muscle.
“How many?” Clayton asks.
“Thirty.”
He looks at her in disbelief and does
30.
See CLAYTON, Page 2B
ever so long ago, to a baby he would
never know.
This week, she showed it to me
and I grew curious.
What ever became of William
Hughlett?
Thank goodness for the 21st cen
tury and the Internet.
Though a search turned up six
men scattered across America who
shared that moniker, only one
responded to my call.
Lo and behold, he is the grandson
of Elisabeth’s very own 1914 pen
pal.
And now she knows the rest of
the story.
“My grandfather, William Smith
Hughlett, was born in Virginia and
went to school at Emory, where he
See LETTER, Page 2B
B