Upon entering the Lawrenceville Church of God on Saturday, mourners saw Jared and Jaison Brown together, a familiar sight amid the saddest of occasions.
The bodies of the tight-knit brothers, Jared, 17, and Jaison, 15, lay in front of the altar, surrounded by soccer paraphernalia, with a throng of teammates and classmates in the choir seating looking back at the packed church.
Eight days earlier, the popular Dacula High students were killed when the 1992 Honda Accord driven by the Jared was struck by a PT Cruiser while making a left turn on Harbins Road in Gwinnett County. They were headed to school.
The tragic deaths of two brothers, recalled as positive influences to all they met, brought together perhaps 1,200 people in what amounted to a communitywide tribute to lives well-lived and a strong family that taught them well.
Said an older cousin in the tribute, “Every time I heard something about them, it was something good.”
Jared was described by his uncle Patrick Hayle as “cool, calm collected, smart — and tall. He was quiet but when he spoke people listened.” He planned to attend college and study engineering.
Jaison was “passionate, fast, not so tall,” Hayle said. “He was a firecracker, the life of the party and no matter how tall he wasn’t, his personality was larger than life.”
The two were known for making friends across social cliques that often divide most teenagers. Those attending the service were representative of the fast changing county — white, black and Hispanic.
The two were known to go out of their way to make friends or at least friendly acquaintances. One story had a new girl to the school sitting alone at a table at the cafeteria when Jared caught her eye and then picked up his tray to join her, talking about the ins and outs of the school and religion.
Pastor Kevin Harris recounted another incident where Jared was walking at school when a student bumped into him hard and knocked his books on the floor. The student was apologetic when Jared looked up and said, “No problem, I love you, man.”
“Who says, ‘No problem, I love you, man’ to someone they don’t know?” asked the pastor, before answering his own question. “Jared.”
The term “positive energy” was repeatedly mentioned during the ceremony and some of that continued after their deaths.
Pastor Harris recalled that the night before, a couple dozen teens stood in front of the open caskets and someone said something funny, obviously a humourous insight something that connected with everyone. Suddenly, there was a gale of growing laughter which the reverend joined, “because laughter is contagious.”
But, he added, “there is no closure from something like this. We do not get over something like this.”
Harris urged friends and family to keep the boys’ memory and spirit alive by talking about them, especially when they meet a member of their family. He recounted a woman who lost a child and that friends who meet her awkwardly talk about other subjects when they encounter the still-grieving mother.
“What hurts the most is that people act like they never existed,” the woman told the pastor.
Given the outpouring from those attending the service, it is clear that the Brown brothers will be remembered.
But even more than that, part of Jaison will continue to live.
Jaison, the younger brother, was not killed outright by the wreck but showed no brain activity and was kept on life support at Gwinnett Medical Center to await the arrival of an older brother, Devin Chisholm, who lives in Florida.
When the brother arrived, he went in to say goodbye to his brother. As a surgical team gathered at to harvest the dying teen’s organs, Devin bent over his brother and said, “Jaison, go save some lives.”
A day later, his heart was transplanted to a patient in Maryland.
About the Author
