Gary's Story

When Laura Durrenberger smiles these days, which is not often, it is when a favorite image of her beloved son, her only child, Gary, pops up in her mind. "He is sitting on his place on the couch, eating a bowl of ice cream and laughing his head off...at Seinfeld," she says. "He would just laugh and laugh. And we would say, 'hey, it's not that funny,' and he would say, 'oh yes it is.' "He had a wonderful goofy laugh - it filled our lives. He was a happy child. It was amazing how much he loved life."

To the everlasting horror and sorrow of everyone who knew him - especially his parents, Charles and Laura - the good life of Gary Paul Durrenberger was cut down in a split second on a narrow and dangerous two-lane highway coming out of Mexico one terrible morning in early June.

Returning from a Memorial Day weekend romp to Rocky Point with his buddies right after graduating from Canyon Del Oro High School, Gary, only 18, was driving his small Mazda, while his two friends slept. No one knows if the driver of the big flatbed truck in front of Gary signaled his intention to turn left off the highway. But when the truck slowed down, Gary pulled into the left lane to pass, then braked when the truck started its left turn.

But not in time. The Mazda slammed into the back of the flatbed, so violently the impact broke Gary's neck, killing him instantly.

His passengers, Dave Hoag and Derek Larson, thought Gary was knocked out, and frantically tried to wake him up. Though they survived with only minor injuries, their friend had died.

No drugs, no alcohol - that was never Gary's way of things. Just a young, inexperienced driver on a bad road, hustling to get home for a class at Pima College.

"I lost it, right there in the hall at University Medical Center. I just said 'no way' - this can't be true. No way," said C. J. Ziegler, who had been Gary's best friend since middle school. He had raced to UMC after getting the phone call that everyone dreads.

"He was by far my best friend. He was always there for me, whenever I needed him. Gary taught me a lot about life, and how to live it. He was such a good friend - the best you could ever have."

Testimony to that was Gary's funeral several days later, with its standing-room-only crowd heartbroken teenagers there to say good-bye to him. What they all remember about Gary is this somewhat shy young boy, whose immense love of laughter overcame his naturally quiet nature, making him the life of any party.

"We had just had a graduation party at my house - it was such a great time, and he was the one that made it great," said Ziegler. "Gary got people into it. He made it so much fun."

Though his mother - an aerospace engineer at Raytheon - describes her son as "contemplative...very much inside his own head," she also tells how Gary, even as a little kid, got a great kick out of scaring her whenever he got the chance, jumping out from behind doors or wherever to ambush her.

"Gary was a prankster, always," said his father, Charles, a sportswriter for the Arizona Daily Star. "He found the humor in every situation. He loved nothing better than to make you laugh. He did everything with a good nature - there was nothing mean-spirited about him at all."

But within this joke-loving sports nut was a kind soul, say all who knew him well. Befriending a new kid on the block some years ago, Gary withdrew from that relationship, after seeing the boy knock a beehive out of a tree - an action he saw as unnecessary cruel.

While snacking at McDonald's with a gaggle of friends, Gary stopped them when they started making fun of someone they thought was funny-looking. "Everyone was laughing, but Gary wanted no part of that. He didn't think it was funny at all - he knew the person had no control over how he looked," said David McDaniel, who played on the CDO golf team with Gary. "He definitely had a really good heart. He taught me to be a better person. There was just something about Gary everyone loved."

To this day, Gary's much-loved little mutt, Ralfee, watches the back door, hoping his young master will once again come through it.

"Ralfee meant everything to Gary. He was the one who got up in the middle of the night to take him out. He fed him, he bathed him, he roughhoused with him," said his mother, Laura. The pup was a present to Gary for his 13th birthday. "He slept with him. At night, Ralfee would be sprawled out across the bed, and Gary would have this little strip left to sleep on. But that was OK with him." Ralfee was about all Gary wanted for his birthday. He was that extraordinarily rare youngster unmoved by material things, who often could not even think of something he wanted for Christmas.

Although Gary got decent grades without trying very hard, the passion of his life was not academics, but sports - all sports, and especially all things Texas, where he was born and lived the first six years of his life. A starring pitcher on a championship Junior Little League team in 2000, a golfer who shot in the low 80s, Gary got into the games, all games, while tagging along as a toddler with his dad covering sport events for the newspaper.

"He was a walking sports encyclopedia," said his father, noting sports was always a big deal through generations of Durrenbergers. "I am sure he was headed for some sort of career in sports - maybe an agent, a coach, maybe in broadcasting. That's what he wanted."

At baseball, or golf or whatever he played, Gary was super-competitive, said McDaniel. "We used to play one-on-one basketball, and I should have dominated him always, since I was so much taller," McDaniel said. "But it never worked out that way. I don't know how he did it, but he'd drive in and make a move and he'd beat me - a buncha times. "Man, he hated to lose."

When Jeff Myers, an executive of Comcast Cable, heard Gary Durrenberger's name on the news that day in June, he did a double take. He had met Gary only once - when Gary caddied for him at the Tucson Chrysler Classic last year.

"I didn't know Gary really well, but you could tell right away he was just a great kid," Myers said. "We talked, he gave me some tips, we joked - we had a really great time together. He was just a lot of fun that day. "You could tell he had a whole lot of good friends and a great bond with his dad. I just got a really good feel for him, for the good kind of person he was."

Losing this superb child they raised so well means there will never again be true joy, never a day without unimaginable pain in the lives of Charles, 41, and Laura, 38.

On Thanksgiving and Christmas they drove the three-plus hours down that miserable highway, to the spot five miles north of Lukeville, where their son spent his last moment on earth. They visit the little cross and pictures of him they put there.

"It was always just the three of us - Gary went everywhere with us. We shared so much," his father said. "We were always in the same room in the house - it was kinda funny how close we were."

They still picture Gary with them, wherever they go now, and perhaps always will, so big is the hole he left in their lives.

"He was always just a joy," said Laura. "He was the easiest child to raise, so sweet. When he was little you didn't have to tell him things twice. He liked harmony. He just liked to please you."

To keep their child's memory alive and their own sanity intact, Charles and Laura have set up the Gary Paul Durrenberger Memorial Golf Tournament, to raise scholarship money for kids who want to go on in school but cannot afford it.

"So many days I don't want to get up in the morning, or face the day without him, but having this mission keeps me going," said Charles. "I've lost my dear son, but I feel now like I'm gaining a new family - of his friends and the children we can help."