They Took a Turn for the Worst

He wasn’t 17, as the police originally reported. He was 15. Michael Pulliam was close to wrapping up his sophomore year of high school in Canyon Country when he climbed into a pickup truck Thursday with four friends.

It being the first day in nearly a month without spring football practice, and with final exams the next day, it was a good time for Michael and the other Canyon High students to go straight home after classes to study.

Their truck wasn’t traveling very fast. Two of the friends sat up front, with three passengers, Michael among them, in back in the bed.

“There was this plastic bed liner,” said Canyon student Jason Byers, who also sat in back. “And it was really slippery.”

About a quarter after three, they recognized a girl in a vehicle ahead of them. Scott, Holly, Clay, Jason and Michael were traveling under the posted speed limit of 25 m.p.h. as they rode eastbound on Whispering Leaves Drive.

The car ahead of them began going slower, then slower still--fooling around, the way people shouldn’t do, but do. The kids in the truck, also fooling around, looked for ways to respond. Michael stood up to throw a pencil.

It was the last thing he ever did. There was a sharp left turn at Sierra Estates Drive, and the truck took it. Michael lost his balance on the slippery bed liner. He fell from the truck. Jason said: “I was six inches away from grabbing him.”

At about 4:30 p.m. at the Henry Mayo Newhall Memorial Hospital in Valencia, on an otherwise run-of-the-mill June afternoon, Michael Pulliam was pronounced dead.

The first thing someone thought to do after the accident was contact the football coach at the high school, Harry Welch. Football plays such an important role in the Santa Clarita Valley community, 35 miles north of Los Angeles.

In some ways, Canyon Country is like one of those Texas towns where football games are viewed with a support bordering on devotion. They love their football here, and they love their football players.

Michael will be buried in his uniform, No. 75.

His friends began to phone one another Thursday night so they could get together and talk things over. Many held lighted candles and stayed out late. They asked classmates to chip in so that Michael’s football jersey could be purchased from the school’s athletic department.

Byron Hodges, 16, decided to put the numeral 75 on his helmet next season to honor his former teammate. Michael Pulliam was a popular guy. Byron said of him: “He was funny and he had a lot of friends.”

Of these, Jason was one of the closest, right to the end.

“We were part of a brotherhood,” Jason said.

There are some who knew Michael well who feel that football was far from the most important thing in his life, that his death should not be reflected upon as that of simply a football player. Although he was a lineman who showed promise among the sophomores, Michael might not have been altogether certain that football would be part of his future.

He had many other interests, as boys of 15 do. As boys and girls of all ages do.

And, if there can be anything more terrible than the fatal illness of someone young, it is this, this sudden and preventable death of someone so full of life who did not even get a chance to say goodby.

Something similar happened a couple of weeks ago, when young Drazen Petrovic, on holiday for the summer after another season of playing basketball for the New Jersey Nets, was killed in an auto accident in Europe.

There was a professional football player for Detroit who was simply standing on his front lawn when he didn’t see an oncoming truck, veering out of control. It killed him. There was a player for the Raiders who got behind the wheel of his car after too many beers and smashed into a tree at high speed, taking his own life.

There are too many cars on the road to watch out for them all. But try.

It seems so futile to warn strangers or even acquaintances to beware of the unexpected. But at least the next time someone drones on and on about the importance of buckling a seat belt, or of driving defensively, maybe the remembrance of lives lost will be of help.

The friends of Michael Pulliam can still do something for him. They can tell their other friends to, please, be careful out there.