Life lost, lives saved: Story of Bronson Parsons

Supplied with a paint-by-number style portrait of their son, glue and a tray of diverse “paints” – poppy seeds, coffee grounds, crushed wheat – Paul and Carol Parsons and their two daughters created Bronson Parsons’ smiling face using organic materials.

Bronson’s eyes were the hardest to get right, but when they finished, he stared back with his piercing baby blues, friendly and good-humored like his family remembered them. 

They spent the day working in a large warehouse in Pasadena, Calif., earlier this month, preparing Bronson’s “floragraph” to accompany 75 other portraits of organ donors from across the country. The donors will adorn the tail of a phoenix on the Donate Life float in the Tournament of Roses Parade on New Year’s Day, with dozens of recipients and recipient family members riding along.

The mythical phoenix, dull with old age, was said to set itself on fire so that a bird with new life would sprout from the smoke and ash.

The Parsons hold tight to that legend of rebirth – the idea that something positive resulted from the death of their 25-year-old son … that the tragic hit-and-run on New Year’s Day two years ago made new life possible. 

Bronson looked peaceful as he lay in bed at St. Patrick Hospital in Missoula. He had no broken bones and minimal bruising. If not for the ventilator forcing air in and out of his lungs and the patch on the back of his head, no one would be able to tell that he was the victim of a hit-and-run just hours before – that the impact cut the blood supply to his head, leaving him brain dead.

Bronson’s heart was still beating when Paul and Carol arrived in Missoula from Troy, but their son was gone. Their youngest child would never again snowboard, skydive, cliff dive or bungee jump. The boy who grew up hunting and fishing in the Kootenai wouldn’t get his helicopter license or see another Grizzly game.

Bronson and his roommate spent New Year’s at a friend’s house a half block from their own place in East Missoula. Shortly after midnight, they started back home, walking on the shoulder of Old Highway 200. Bronson and his roommate were talking and joking, Carol explained, when his roommate felt a gust of air.

“Then he saw Bronson on the hood of the car, and the car slowed down – didn’t put its brakes down,” Carol said. “When it slowed down, Bronson hit the pavement.”

Two years after getting a call that is every mother’s worst nightmare, Carol explains the circumstances of Bronson’s death like she is reading aloud. But every so often a crack appears in her composed expression, and her eyes reveal the pain.

Bronson moved back to Montana from Portland, Ore., earlier that spring and spent a few months in Troy helping his dad in construction. Then he packed up his 1975 Chevy pickup and moved to Missoula.

His parents were with him when he filled out the form to get his Montana driver’s license. 

“Mom, look I’m checking the donor box,” Carol recalls Bronson saying. “If anything should happen to me – anything I have, I want to donate.”

It would only be six months before Bronson would save the lives of others with his perfectly healthy organs – his heart, liver, lungs, kidneys, eyes and tissue. An ideal donor, he would earn the honor of being the first Montanan to be represented on the Donate Life float in the famous Tournament of Roses Parade.

Staring at her son in the hospital bed, Carol found a small comfort knowing how important organ donation was to him. Donate Life, which connects organ donors with people who need transplants, walked Carol and Paul through the process while a surgical team was assembled from specialists from all over the country.

“Mostly, you’re in shock,” Carol recalled the process.

“It was just a blur,” Paul said.

Those in the country who were most compatible with Bronson’s organs were prepped for surgery in Seattle, awaiting the organs that were airlifted to the destination.

Given time to reflect, Paul and Carol believe Bronson’s decision to be a donor stemmed from the daughter of a family friend being saved by an organ transplant. The teenage girl was fighting for her life 11 years ago and lived because her mother donated a kidney.

“He was very, very close to that situation,” Carol said, “and so I think he was highly affected by that.”

The Parsons carry 25 years of memories of their son everywhere they go. Bronson’s trophy animal mounts are displayed in the office of their log home in Troy. Some people wait an entire lifetime to draw the major hunting permits, but Bronson drew them before graduating from high school. He took down a deer, moose, elk, goat and sheep – all with the help of his dad.

“Now we look back and say God had a plan,” Paul said. “He was letting you do all this stuff – you were in a hurry to get all these things done.”

It’s getting easier for Paul to talk about his son, his hunting buddy and his best friend, but it’s difficult to completely move on when the investigation into the hit-and-run is still open – and the driver of the dark SUV is still out there.

“That’s always in the background for me,” he said.

Paul drives around his son’s old Chevy with a Donate Life bumper sticker on the back and Bronson’s photo riding shotgun.

“It just helps me remember him,” he said. “I’ve got his picture so he rides around with me everyday.”

Bronson’s parents are healing in different ways, and it helps Carol to focus on the donor recipients.

“I think it’s important to emphasize that out of this tragedy good has come out for many people,” she said.

Carol wrote letters through Donate Life to the Georgia man who received a kidney, the Washington man who has Bronson’s liver and left kidney, the Washington man who received a heart, and the Idaho man who has a new set of lungs.

Two replied.

“When you get those letters, they’re saying in their own words, thank you for this gift,” Carol said. “But also, they’re telling you their story of years and years and years of struggle – of waiting – of being on dialysis for five years and then being on the list to get a kidney for three more. It not affecting just them but their family and friends and their way of life.”

The Idaho man now, coincidentally, lives in the area. He and his family haven’t met the Parsons in person, but have spoken to Carol on the phone about how the new, healthy lungs have helped the retired miner.   

“Now he can walk to go get the mail. He can swim with his grandchildren at the lake. He can hunt with his son,” Carol said, her voice breaking. “Just being able to hear that is nice.”

Bronson also provided a cornea to give someone the gift of vision and 30 donations of tissue to help dozens more people.

At the first anniversary of Bronson’s death, the Parsons and their daughters set off fireworks at his grave site at Milnor Cemetery. This year they will spend four or five days in Pasadena surrounded by families whose loved ones also made the choice to be donors. 

For the second anniversary, the family looks forward to focusing on the new life that has shot up from the grief of Bronson’s death. Because they are left with only the memories of their son and brother, many other people are able to make new memories with loved ones.

The story is unique and special, but one of many that will be told as the Donate Life float goes by, fourth in line, during the Tournament of Roses Parade on Friday.