I am writing to commend the work of SN reporters Melissa Domsic and Travis Haughton in their "Miraculous journey" (SN 11/15).

My brother's Sept. 3 motorcycle accident last year left him in much the same condition as Sam Howell. I'm familiar with the long nights spent sleeping in 20-minute intervals in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair. I'm familiar with the "silly humor" and positive reminiscing required to endure such a trying time. Your reporters captured the emotions felt by loving family from accident to recovery.

Articles like "Miraculous journey" are important because they remind us of our transience. We take for granted the little things in life that we find mean the most when they're gone. My big brother would torment me to no end, but I remembered him with fondness when I held his limp hand. His ridicules would drive me into a rage, but I felt only love when I looked at his battered face.

Brandon's recovery has been long and arduous, much like Sam's. I'd like to say the first week is the worst — being told to prepare for death and being asked for organ donations while you're still recovering from the shock. But the fact is that every day spent in the hospital is progressively worse than the last. Much like Brandon's and Sam's recoveries, the recovery of their families doesn't truly begin until the day they each wake up.

The article and photos accurately captured the feelings experienced by family and the reactions of friends and of the community. My eyes welled from emotions aroused as the article forced me to remember the ordeal. Mostly I remember the weeks that turned into months at rehab. My brother never let me win a game of one-on-one and I found myself helping to teach him how to walk.

I am proud to say that Brandon did learn how to walk. He might never play basketball again, but each day brings him one step closer to a normal life. A mere 14 months after doctors were asking for his kidneys, Brandon can now grab his keys and drive me to the park: just like old times.

I'll never forget the day this summer when he stood up and walked to me. He looked me square in the eye and said, "Thank you for being a good brother." I wanted to thank him for being an inspiration but the words never came — the best I had to offer was a hug.

So I offer my story to the Howell family as hope. There is always hope. With the help and support of his family and friends, I promise you that Sam will walk again. I was moved and inspired by Sam's story and I hope that others were as well.

Adam Damm
journalism sophomore