Nathan’s Memory Still Very Much Lives With Us One Year Later – Editorial


Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of the day that Melvin Webster stood in my doorway and delivered the news that would immeasurably change all of our lives – that Nathan Seiter had inexplicably been killed in a car wreck earlier that morning. My reaction then was stunned disbelief and now one year later my summation of his passing still very much remains stunned disbelief. Nathan Seiter and death seem such an oxymoron. It has taken awhile but I have begun to come to grips with his being gone and have put aside the expectation of his return and this all just being a very bad dream. Despite witnessing the funeral, an entire basketball and baseball season, golf outing, dance, and fishing trip to Canada without him, it’s taken a full year for me to accept the realization that he is truly gone forever. I no longer expect him to come bouncing into the gym, comparing notes after a fishing outing with his patented “Howdjado???”, seeing his red truck in the parking lot, or having him occupy my easy chair.

I can still hear his voice in my head and his laugh is my constant companion. His passing has reduced me from a former pillar of emotional strength to a weepy old man.

While the family suffers through holidays such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, his Birthday etc.. I find my personal tough times to come often unexpectedly. Brad hitting a particularly tough “3” at LexCath vs Clay County ahead of the buzzer with a defender in his mug flooded me with such memories of Nate that I was reduced to speechlessness during the game broadcast. Driving across the bridge in Falmouth on the way to a baseball game at Nicholas County and seeing some early season fishermen angling in the Licking river had a similar effect. First seeing his 1,000 point banner on the wall the night we honored Evan McDole caused me to dry more than a few tears, and driving down the road to the Blue Heron last spring knowing that he would never return was especially tough.

Rounding the corner into Nate’s favorite bay caused me to stop the boat and just sit there and reflect. He is still certainly missed and memories of him are always just around the next bend, be it turning on the TV to Sportscenter or overhearing Brad utter the phrase “That’s Ree-diculous.”

My hope for Nate is that is hasn’t all come to an end – that somehow he does still physically enjoy the things that he did while here on earth and that he still experiences the occasional thrill of a fish-on or a buck in his cross-hairs, and gets to witness Brad and the Mustangs’ performance while reveling in the player that his little brother has become.

Much good has resulted in his memory. The annual spring Ground Hog Tournament has found a worthy cause to be the recipient of its efforts “In Memory of Tuber,” and his first annual NDS Golf Outing and Dance was an incredible success, selling out in seven days. These and other fund-raisers have generated sufficient monies for his scholarship fund to already provide assistance to four current Brossart students.

On Friday night December 23rd, Nathan’s #22 will be formally retired and will take its long overdue place of honor in our facility where he will be remembered forever for his heroics while wearing Mustang green.

I ran across the encapsulated poem and made a few minor modifications. I think it speaks volumes of how we all feel about Nathan Seiter even today.

While he is gone, he is very much alive in us and is still a big part of our everyday lives. A high percentage of baby boys born over the past year to those who knew Nate now carry his name. Rarely a day goes by that visitors don’t stop by his memorial or legend page on this website, and never does a day go by without our thinking of him or bringing him up in conversation.

One year is simply a measure of time which will soon become five years, which will eventually become ten years gone, but Nathan will remain the same young, vibrant, opinionated, outspoken, fun-loving, twenty-four year old that we all knew and loved through November 30th of 2004 when he was taken from us.

Chris Allen summed it up best in his eulogy – “Life has to end, but Love doesn’t and it certainly hasn’t, nor will it ever.

We still love you man!!!!

November 11, 2005