OSU win pale against true miracles
2001-11-29
By Berry Tramel
The Oklahoman
NORMAN -- Some said it was a miracle Saturday at Owen Field, and I suppose it was.
With sparkling blond hair and a giggling smile wider than a frontier sunset, 13-year-old Ashley Weaver sat in the south end-zone stands and cheered on her Sooners.
Ashley, decked in OU colors, and her dad arrived early and had seats near the field; they could almost touch Frank Romero during warmups and the marching tubas during "Oklahoma!"
A college football arena is quite a place on a gorgeous autumn day. The smell of popcorn and dying grass. The beat of the drums and the buzz of the crowd. The shine of helmets, red and white. The anticipation of what's to come.
The Sooners eventually disappointed Ashley and everyone else in crimson, but she took it better than most. There was chicken spaghetti to eat and phone calls to answer.
Ashley's dad, Darrell Weaver, is a state drug agent and quite the Sooner fan himself. Time was, a Bedlam loss would have ruined his day. But no longer. This was an afternoon to remember.
When was it, last year, that Darrell first noticed something wrong with Ashley? She had been a budding basketball player but didn't seem herself. Ashley seemed to drag a leg behind her. Her shots weren't straight.
Later, Ashley's right eyeball fixed sideways.
Doctors dug for answers. Some said maybe an infection or virus. Some said maybe a reaction to a vaccination. Some said maybe a brain tumor.
Guess which one was right?
You think 16-13 turns a world upside down? Try a final score of inoperable brain tumor.
Last December, doctors said Ashley might not live two months. She fooled 'em. She hung strong until spring, before the tumor finally took her legs and put her in a wheelchair, took her speech, took her bright, blue-green eyes, shutting them almost completely. She was fed through a tube.
A month ago, Ashley underwent surgery to receive a port for pain medication, since her veins were near used up. When she came out of the anaesthesia, Ashley opened wide her eyes and asked for her Nanna. Then she asked for a pepperoni pizza.
Some things are unexplainable. Like the Bedlam game and how a 13-year-old girl returns from horrors unknown. How did Ashley Weaver start talking again and eating again and feeling so much better? Who knows? Maybe God is an Ashley fan.
She likes answering the phone, shocking folks who haven't called lately and don't know about her big comeback. She likes eating, too; on Thanksgiving, she devoured the turkey and sweet potatoes and the chocolate pie, hold the meringue.
And Saturday, Ashley felt good enough for football. On a splendid November day, with her dad at her side, they felt the sun on their face and the wind in their hair.
Ashley still has miles to go. The tumor remains, and doctors still offer no hope other than hope itself.
Sunday at church, we prayed for a miracle.
Another one.
2001-11-29
By Berry Tramel
The Oklahoman
NORMAN -- Some said it was a miracle Saturday at Owen Field, and I suppose it was.
With sparkling blond hair and a giggling smile wider than a frontier sunset, 13-year-old Ashley Weaver sat in the south end-zone stands and cheered on her Sooners.
Ashley, decked in OU colors, and her dad arrived early and had seats near the field; they could almost touch Frank Romero during warmups and the marching tubas during "Oklahoma!"
A college football arena is quite a place on a gorgeous autumn day. The smell of popcorn and dying grass. The beat of the drums and the buzz of the crowd. The shine of helmets, red and white. The anticipation of what's to come.
The Sooners eventually disappointed Ashley and everyone else in crimson, but she took it better than most. There was chicken spaghetti to eat and phone calls to answer.
Ashley's dad, Darrell Weaver, is a state drug agent and quite the Sooner fan himself. Time was, a Bedlam loss would have ruined his day. But no longer. This was an afternoon to remember.
When was it, last year, that Darrell first noticed something wrong with Ashley? She had been a budding basketball player but didn't seem herself. Ashley seemed to drag a leg behind her. Her shots weren't straight.
Later, Ashley's right eyeball fixed sideways.
Doctors dug for answers. Some said maybe an infection or virus. Some said maybe a reaction to a vaccination. Some said maybe a brain tumor.
Guess which one was right?
You think 16-13 turns a world upside down? Try a final score of inoperable brain tumor.
Last December, doctors said Ashley might not live two months. She fooled 'em. She hung strong until spring, before the tumor finally took her legs and put her in a wheelchair, took her speech, took her bright, blue-green eyes, shutting them almost completely. She was fed through a tube.
A month ago, Ashley underwent surgery to receive a port for pain medication, since her veins were near used up. When she came out of the anaesthesia, Ashley opened wide her eyes and asked for her Nanna. Then she asked for a pepperoni pizza.
Some things are unexplainable. Like the Bedlam game and how a 13-year-old girl returns from horrors unknown. How did Ashley Weaver start talking again and eating again and feeling so much better? Who knows? Maybe God is an Ashley fan.
She likes answering the phone, shocking folks who haven't called lately and don't know about her big comeback. She likes eating, too; on Thanksgiving, she devoured the turkey and sweet potatoes and the chocolate pie, hold the meringue.
And Saturday, Ashley felt good enough for football. On a splendid November day, with her dad at her side, they felt the sun on their face and the wind in their hair.
Ashley still has miles to go. The tumor remains, and doctors still offer no hope other than hope itself.
Sunday at church, we prayed for a miracle.
Another one.
