By JOE MATTIS
joe.mattis@timesnews.com

At the bottom of the Seneca High School football roster is an extra line of type: "Honorary captain - #32 Jackson King."

Of course, those few words aren't as simple as they seem, and never were meant to be viewed that way.

Jackson King had planned to be an integral part of the Bobcats football team during his senior season. An auto accident May 9, 2006, changed his plans and altered or touched the lives of his family, coaches, teachers, teammates, classmates and friends.

Today, Jackson is mostly confined to his home in North East where he lives with his parents, Jack and Donna; his older brother, Mike; and his younger twin sisters, Brandi and Brooke. They care for his every need, something Jackson cannot do for himself.

The car he was driving to school that spring morning was "t-boned on the driver's side, " his mother said. A hook on the front of the truck involved in the accident sliced through the driver's door and imbedded itself into Jackson's abdomen. That hook had to be cut from the truck before Jackson could be extricated from his car. Donna King was on her way home from work when she was informed of the accident, and she arrived at the scene before Jackson was taken by helicopter to the trauma center at Hamot Medical Center.

The crash impact knocked King's heart to the right side of his chest cavity. He suffered a huge cut in his side, a ruptured spleen, broken ribs, two collapsed lungs, a broken pelvis and a lacerated liver and pancreas. He also suffered a major brain injury.

Jack King, who was alerted while at work at Ameridrives International Coupling Products, was already at the hospital when his son arrived.

"The trauma doctor said that Jackson had only a 20 percent chance to survive, " he said. "The most serious injury was the brain. It was pretty severe."

Jackson's spleen was removed during surgery, but the main concern became his brain injury.

"We thought he could recover, " his father said. "Everything healed except his brain."

After three weeks at Hamot, Jackson was transferred to The Children's Institute, a pediatric rehabilitation facility in Pittsburgh. He received care there for about five months until he was able to return to his home in Greenfield Township.

One night this past week, nearly one and one-half years since the accident, Jack looked at his son in his reclining chair in the family's living room. Jackson seemed oblivious to the discussion going on around him. When he moved, Donna began to soothingly stroke his head and talk to Jackson in a mother's voice. Jackson turned his head ever so slightly.

"We believe he can hear us, " Donna said.

Because of the trauma to his brain, Jackson has virtually no motor skills. He cannot talk. He is fed and receives medication through a feeding tube. He sometimes has involuntary motions. Donna gave up her job at Bob Evans Restaurant on Peach Street to care for him.

But there are definite signs he might understand some things that are going on around him. And the King family has noted improvement in his condition, especially during the past two weeks after his medication was changed. He is not sedated as heavily.

"Jackson is more alert and he stays awake longer, " Donna said as her husband walked to the recliner and gently moved his son's head to a more comfortable position. "He is tracking things better."

Jackson has a computer, and some of his teammates have recorded messages that are played for him.

"Jackson seems delighted to hear their voices and see their faces, " Donna King said.

'He's an awesome kid'

Jackson showed promise as an athlete while in the ninth grade, when he made Seneca's varsity football and basketball teams.

As a sophomore, he became a starter at defensive back before the football season ended. He was thrilled to be a big part of the first Seneca team to make an appearance in the District 10 playoffs.

"He was our manned-up corner against the other team's best receiver, " Seneca coach Randy Gunther said. "He was a solid 170-pound defensive back that was very athletic. He had many things working for him."

But sport wasn't Jackson's only outlet. He had a magnetic personality that drew people to him. You couldn't count his friends.

"Jackson was probably one of the most-liked kids in the whole school, from grades below him to grades above him" said senior Richie Widdowson, one of Jackson's best friends and a teammate on the football and basketball teams. "Everybody liked him. He's an awesome kid."

"He's one of those kids that every coach hopes he can get a chance to coach, " Gunther said. "He just had that personality. He always referred to himself as The King."

Jackson's parents said he was all about doing good things for people - family, friends, everyone he knew. It didn't matter who it was.

"Jackson was talking about going to college to be a psychologist, " Jack King said. "He told me, 'Dad, I just want to help people.' "

His brother, Mike, 23, has multiple sclerosis. He also suffered from heart problems. So severe, in fact, that in November 1999 he underwent heart transplant surgery at Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh. Jackson was playing hockey at the time, but his older brother was more important than any game.

"He gave up hockey to spend weekends at the hospital with Michael, " Donna said.

When Mike was well enough to use a wheelchair, Jackson would race down the hall, pushing his big brother. And when it was time for Mike to venture out of the hospital, it was Jackson who managed his wheelchair.

When Jackson was on Seneca's basketball team, he noticed a big wrestler in the locker room who was picking on a younger boy trying out for the basketball team.

"Jackson told him to knock it off, " Donna said. "He did that same thing when kids picked on Michael. He watched out for his brother for four years."

Even people who did not know Jackson's parents told them of some of the kind things Jackson had done.

"A lady came to the hospital (Hamot) and began talking to me, " Donna said. "I didn't know her, but she told me that when her son transferred to Seneca he didn't know anyone and he was very nervous about going there. She said Jackson took her son under his wing and made him so comfortable in his new school."

Surprise impact

Donna was worried about her son after the accident in more than just a medical sense.

"We worried Jackson would be forgotten, " she said. "We didn't realize he had an impact on so many people."

They also did not realize exactly how profound that impact was, or would grow to be.

Jack King said people at the Dr. Gertrude A. Barber National Institute aided the family in getting funds to make the bathroom in their home wheelchair accessible.

There have been several fundraisers, including a barbecue dinner and a spaghetti dinner. There were sales of T-shirts and sweatpants imprinted with Jackson's No. 32, and blue vinyl bracelets with "Bobcats support #32" printed in white. Jackson wears one of those bracelets on one wrist. On the other wrist is another imprinted bracelet: "Don't ever give up."

"Coach (Curt) Spicher gave Jackson that bracelet while he was in the hospital, " Donna said.

Before Jackson's accident, the Kings had contemplated moving the family. Jackson would have no part of it.

"Jackson told me, 'I'm not leaving Seneca school, ' " Jack said.

"Now I see why."

Support also comes from people at schools and communities as close as North East to as distant as Albion. Some of that support stems from Jackson's time on a basketball travel team with players from North East and Cathedral Prep.

But mostly it's the Seneca community that continually shows just how important Jackson was and is to them.

During the 2006 football season, for instance, months after Jackson's accident, Seneca was playing an important Region 4 game against Corry. The Beavers dedicated that game to Jackson, who was still in the hospital in Pittsburgh.

At one time, the Bobcats trailed 19-0. But they came back, eventually winning 27-25.

Times-News staff writer Bob Jarzomski covered that game. His report centered on the impact Jackson had on the team and its coaches.

"He was with us tonight. Jackson played a big part in this, boys, " shouted Seneca coach Randy Gunther to his players and coaches surrounding him after the game.

"He's always been here for us, " senior Mike Gdanetz said, flanked by crying teammates. "We did this as a team tonight, and his spirit helped us come back."

Without that win, the Bobcats would not have made the D-10 playoffs for a second straight year. Indirectly, Jackson had helped his teammates advance to postseason play.

Today's teammate

The football players continue to make Jackson a part of their team. They wear No. 32 on their helmets. If they use black tape under their eyes to cut glare, white "32" is stenciled on it. Some of the players have No. 32 written on their shoes.

In the middle of the front row of the team photo is a jersey stuffed with shoulder pads. A football is on the floor in front of the jersey -- No. 32.

And at every home game, the No. 32 jersey hangs above the press box.

Jackson made an unexpected appearance at the Bobcats' opening game Aug. 31 against Youngsville. He was in a prone position in a wheelchair, pushed by his father.

"All the parents stood and clapped, " Donna said. "That was wonderful, but it was hard to think that Jackson should be out there on the field. It made you sad that he wasn't playing."

It was an emotional time for the players when they learned Jackson was at the game.

"We didn't know he was coming, " said Widdowson, who had played football with Jackson since each was 3 years old. "Every time you see the kid, it pretty much makes you want to cry right there. It's pretty crazy that it could happen to one of our teammates."

Jackson joined the huddle on the field after the Bobcats had beaten the Eagles 43-0. Gunther believes Jackson was aware of his surroundings.

"At different times, he seems to respond to different things, " Gunther said. "When they brought him out to our huddle, I yelled out to him and I think he tried to focus on me."

Widdowson said that whenever he gets down in a game, he turns his thoughts to Jackson.

"Whenever I feel I can't go anymore, I think of him, " he said. "He's in a wheelchair now and can't move. Why am I saying I can't do it? I try much harder. He's been a big inspiration."

Jackson's parents took him to the next two Seneca home games. When the Bobcats play Mercyhurst Prep on Friday night, it will be homecoming. Weather permitting, Jackson will be there.

"He's on our homecoming court, " Widdowson proudly said.

The smile

Gunther said two of Jackson's traits above all are sorely missed - his personality and his smile.

"I see that smile all the time, " said Gunther, who teaches language arts and writing to seventh-graders. "I have a photo of him on my marker board at school. That smile is there all the time."

Patty Mizikowski, the athletic department secretary, also was sold on Jackson's contagious smile.

"It was the most beautiful smile you've ever seen, " she said.

The million-watt grin in his sophomore year school photo is obvious on the wall of the King home. Photos of the other three King children are also displayed. It must be contagious because they all display a similar smile.

"I had his twin sisters in class last year, " Gunther said. "They had that same smile."

Brandi and Brooke, 14, are also athletes. They play on the eighth-grade basketball team.

"Watching them reminds me of Jackson, " Jack King said.

Hope

Jackson continues to receive occupational, physical and speech therapy each Thursday. A Seneca teacher, Jennifer Hoover, goes to the King home and reads to Jackson two or three times a week. Zach Betcher, a teammate on the Seneca basketball team, visits Jackson weekly.

"I think that's what a best friend should do, " Betcher said. "I know he'd do the same for me."

Betcher said at first it was tough to see Jackson. But he continued to visit and is glad he did.

"He knows I'm there, " Betcher said. "It makes you feel better."

Mike King said he now is paying back his brother for the things Jackson did to help him after his heart surgery. Mike stays up with Jackson and talks to him at night. Jackson's sisters watch television with him.

The family never gives up hope that Jackson will recover.

"We believe that he's in there, " Donna said with a loving glance. "We just have to get him out."

That optimism doesn't mean it's been easy for the Kings to see that vibrant personality silenced.

"We ask 'Why?' quite often, " Jack King said. "Not a day goes by that there aren't tears. But, what choice do we have? Our whole lives are devoted to our children."

Perhaps the Kings should believe in miracles. Perhaps they already do. In any case, they believe in the power of prayer.

"Michael was down to his last week for a transplant, " Donna said. "But he got his heart, and he taught us hope."

Betcher longs for the day when he can play catch with Jackson in the Kings' yard, just like he did in those happy days before the accident.

Gunther looks forward to seeing Jackson's infectious smile again, the same smile that was hidden by a football helmet two years ago.

Jack and Donna King yearn to have their son back as he once was. They believe it can happen.

"It's not if, " Jack said, "it's when."

JOE MATTIS can be reached at 870-1676 or by e-mail.