Realities of a lost son
By Susan Carslon
Family and friends gathered outside a neighbor’s home for a summer party. Ron Holt recognized the guests, but his focus remained on his playful toddler crawling through the bright green grass. While lying on his back in the lawn, Holt, a gentle-faced man with dark-rimmed glasses, picked up his young son and floated him directly above him in the warm air like superman. The father and son connected eye to eye, face to face.
“I am so glad you’re cute,” Holt said to the chubby-cheeked baby with chestnut eyes. Little Blair opened his mouth wide.
Suddenly, the father’s adoration evaporated as a giant gob of slobber dripped from the child’s mouth and landed right on his father’s cheek.
“Eeewwww,” Holt said, his face contorted in disgust. “Annette, take your son!” he said, calling upon his wife. She laughed, but didn’t budge. The baby, apparently tickled by his father’s reaction, giggled and kicked his legs in the air in amusement.
That tender moment between father and son disappeared yesterday morning when Holt woke up from his dream.
“I would love to stay in that dream for the rest of my life,” Holt said. Except the inescapable reality is that his son is gone and a father is left to grieve.
Holt has endured more heartache than many people might ever imagine. But in the midst of his suffering and an unenviable journey triggered by an assailant’s bullet, he also discovered a renewed sense of purpose. As a 17-year veteran of the Chicago police department, Holt dedicated his life to stopping crimes long ago. In the wake of his own personal tragedy, his mission has taken on a new fervor.
By all accounts, he and his wife did everything right. They talked to their son about gangs and drugs, and raised him in a loving home with an emphasis on education. As a police officer, Holt always felt confident he could protect his son from any danger, though he later discovered he could not.
“It traumatizes your psyche,” he said recently during an interview. “You ask yourself the would’ves, could’ves, should’ves. What could I have done to change that situation?”
This much is clear: What he has done since. This much is also clear: A father’s love for his son never dies, and that love may be sufficient enough for the journey, even a difficult journey from hurt toward healing and hope...
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