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Baseball: a perfect celebration _______________________ Boy, killed in wreck, loved game _______________________ photo by Jim Craven Like Jeremy, parents Jordell and Debbie Hasha are never far from Miles Field. BY KRIS HENRY Jeremy Hasha had waited for this day for two years. At age 12, he barely missed out on being named to the Medford Babe Ruth all-star team. A year later, one vote again kept him from the squad. But at 14, Hasha's extra effort and marked improvement earned him a spot on the age 14-15 elite squad. photo from Hasha family Jeremy was en route to his first all-star state tourney when the accident occured. The muggy July day began with a tearful goodbye to his mother, Debbie, who had attended all of his games but was unable to get the day off from work to see her son play in his first all-star state tournament. Saddened but still determined, Jeremy and his father, Jordell, climbed into their 1994 Ford Aerostar van and embarked on a trip to the tournament in Eugene. That tearful exchange would be the last time Debbie Hasha saw her only son alive. As the accident reports would later piece together, Jordell Hasha suffered an apparent seizure on Interstate 5 near Canyonville, prompting Jeremy to lean over and grab the wheel in hopes that he could steer the van to safety. After weaving lane-to-lane without touching another car, fate finally caught up to the wayward van as it hit a bridge embankment and rolled several times. Both father and son were wearing their seat belts, but Jeremy's act of bravery put him outside the safety harness and left him vulnerable during his final seconds. Almost a year later, Jeremy is still being remembered for his enviable spirit and undeniable love for the sport of baseball. The inaugural Jeremy Hasha Memorial Tournament runs today through Sunday. "He certainly exemplifies all the attitude you'd want to see in a young man and what Babe Ruth baseball is about," says tournament director Dan Marshall, who coached Jeremy for two years and knew him for four. "He was such a great kid and loved the game of baseball so much. I really and truly enjoyed coaching him because he worked so hard and always smiled." Marshall approached the Hashas in March about the tournament. "We said anything with baseball was no problem because that was Jeremy's life," Debbie says. "He wanted to be a baseball player. That was it." "We were both just awestruck when we were approached," adds Jordell, who works as a groundskeeper at Miles Field. The Hashas have been moved by the support and generosity of people since Jeremy's death. "This whole thing with Jeremy has been very overwhelming," says Debbie. "At his memorial there were well over 400 people there. We don't even know 400 people. That really helped us realize how much Jeremy was really loved and how he touched so many lives." Jeremy will actually play more of a role in the tournament than most know, adds Jordell. "I took a little vial of his ashes and after our (Southern Oregon Timberjacks) season was over in September," he says. "I went out there and dug a little hole, and Jeremy's out there in center field." Jordell sought permission for his tribute, he adds. The Hashas still find it difficult to acknowledge their loss. "I still don't believe it has happened," says Jordell. "I haven't accepted it." Part of that is because the elder Hasha has no recollection of the accident. An abnormality in his brain has left Jordell susceptible to seizures since 1991. "The only thing he knows is what I tell him, and that's from the accident report," Debbie says. "The only person who truly knows, we have to wait to go ask. Next time we see Jeremy, we'll ask him what happened. (Jordell) has no memory." Although Jordell takes medicine for his affliction, heightened stress levels can potentially override his system. "When Jeremy and I left the house, it was kind of teary," Jordell says, trying to piece together what might have happened. "Jeremy was upset, Debbie was upset. We got in the van and left and mom stayed home and cried because she didn't get to go. If that's the reason I had the seizure, then I guess that's it. There wasn't anything else that happened. "The only thing I remember is sitting in the hospital in Roseburg, and they kept waking me up asking me if I wanted another pain shot. I just kept asking them `Where's my son?' They said he was in the other room. They didn't tell me he was dead." Debbie says she didn't need anyone to tell her. "The worst you can ever do is open the door and have a policeman standing there when you're husband was supposed to call four hours ago," says Debbie, adding that she can't praise the officer enough for his help in the trying time. "I didn't need anybody to tell me, I knew. I just knew." Following the accident, Debbie says she spent most of the time caring for Jordell, who broke his shoulder and a few ribs and was unable to walk. The couple have taken it day-to-day ever since, using a grieving class to help them cope with the tragedy. The Hashas have left Jeremy's room in the same state it was when he left last July. His baseball bag and professional wrestling paraphernalia are prominent. His clothes still rest in his dresser, and only a few items have been added, including an honorary certificate of Eagle Scout achievement awarded to Jeremy despite his being a few merits shy before the accident. "I still cry every day, and I probably always will," says Debbie. "Jeremy was my life. That's all I ever did. I would pick him up and take him here or take him there. "What's hard is the silence of the house because it was never quiet with Jeremy. Sometimes I can't deal with it, and I have to go for a drive or go somewhere where there is noise. I tend to come down here (to Miles Field) and sit and watch the kids." With Jeremy and Jordell being so involved in baseball, the grand game has turned into a bittersweet treat for the Hashas. "We thought the Christmas season was going to be hard, but no, it was when baseball season started when it got hard," Debbie says. "That's when it really hit us the most." Even in the hard times, Jordell says he would never want to distance himself from the game of baseball. "A lot of times, I'll sit and watch the kids and I'll cry. It's no big deal to me," he admits. "But I love watching the kids play, especially Jeremy's friends. I just enjoy the hell out of watching those boys play. It's been a happy-sad kind of moment for me." In helping the Hashas cope with their loss, Debbie credits those moments in the stands watching young men pursue their dreams and occasional visits from Jeremy's friends. "I think it was those boys who brought us through," she says. "If it wasn't for Jeremy's friends and the boys, it probably would be harder for us." "We feel like we've been second parents to them ever since they were knee-high to a grasshopper," adds Jordell. "They like to see we're doing okay and that we're not jumping off Mount Ashland or some silly thing like turning into alcoholics." Much to the contrary, the Hashas are striving to move on as best as they can, and add that this weekend's tournament should be another step on the long path. Be it a time to grieve or simply a time to watch fresh faces play a game celebrated by her son, Debbie assures one thing about the three-day event. "I'll be here all weekend," she says with a smile. Today's Sports Index Mail Tribune Copyright� The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, OR U.S.A.