Returning to Little Lake Nellie
We watched Steve Olin on that old television set in my mother’s living room. It was 1989, and my brother and I were tuned into the Triple-A All-Star Game. Olin represented Colorado Springs and, therefore, represented the Indians. They were our team, so he was our guy. And when we saw that submarine delivery — the one in which Olin seemed to fling the ball from his shoelaces — we were instantly enamored with the strangeness of it all.
A few years later, when Olin and Tim Crews were killed in a boating accident on Little Lake Nellie, it was hard for me to wrap my 11-year-old mind around it. How could that guy from the screen, with so much life in his arm, playing a boy’s game, be gone so soon? How could a sport that was supposed to be a distraction from the trauma of life and loss now be an invitation to it?
As I got older and learned more about what Olin and Crews left behind — a grieving wife and three young children apiece — I gained a greater understanding of the gravity of the situation. And as the 20th anniversary of the accident drew closer, I felt a desire to catch up with those families and see what the last 20 years of their life have been like.
What I couldn’t have expected was how gracious with their time and how open with their thoughts Laurie Crews and Patti Olin and their families would be.
It was surreal to visit Laurie’s ranch and see the exact spot where the accident occurred. We were gathered there – Laurie and her three kids and I – when I asked if it would be all right to take a picture of them together. “Yeah,” Laurie said, “but let’s turn around and get the dock in the background. That’s what people want to see, anyway, right?.” That, I quickly learned, is the essence of Laurie — no filter, no fear, no phoniness. An amazing woman.
And Patti, though a polar opposite to Laurie’s personality, is equally amazing and inspiring. We spoke for hours on end while I was reporting the story, and it was a joy to get to meet her in person at a Cactus League game last week. “You’re like Oprah, Anthony,” she had said to me between tears during the interview process. And maybe, with those probing personal questions, I was summoning my inner Winfrey. Except I was crying, too.
Anyway, the end result is a story that is very special to me and, I hope, to the Crews and Olin families. If you have some time, I hope you’ll give it a read and think good thoughts for those families during this gut-wrenching anniversary.