When you’re happy, you enjoy the music but when you’re sad, you understand the lyrics. – Frank Ocean
Hank didn’t kill himself. Depression killed my grandson.
Hank was eighteen. 18.
Suicide is the third leading cause of death among people ages 15-24.
- The rate of suicide in America has tripled over the last 60 years
- About 19% of young people contemplate or attempt suicide each year
- 14%-24% of young and young adults have self-injured at least once
- More teens die from suicide than from cancer, heart disease, AIDS, birth defects, stroke, pneumonia, influenza, and chronic lung disease combined
- 5,400 estimated suicide attempts are made each day by teens in the United States
Hank loved math, it made sense to him. Me, not so much.
But 19% seems like almost one in five and I have – had – five grandchildren. Damn.
Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. (Never once did I see them all together.)
FFFF****CCCCKKK!!! Think about Hank the next time you see a statistic like that.
It’s not a number, it’s a loved one who will be missed forever.
Over his entire lifetime I saw so little of him, every moment seems memorable.
Hank was maybe three years old and I was having trouble with my computer. I was deep in an online poker tournament and – suddenly! – connection issues. The tiny tot offered to help. Turns out he probably could have.
The kid was a genius. He broke the ACT.
Hank was quiet, real quiet. His Uncle P.J. almost never shuts up. Not a problem. Imagine Jay Leno was a missing in-law and had stayed in New England, kept working as a mechanic.
There was this widow, not too bad-looking, who decided it was time to start living her life again, so she put a Lonely Heart’s ad in the local classifieds.
SWF seeks single male for companionship. No wife beaters, I’ve been down that road before. Nobody who is going to run around on me and, I must be honest, somebody who can make me feel real passion in the bedroom.
The next day, she hears that somebody is at her front door.
Which she opens to see a not too bad-looking man sitting in a wheelchair.
“I’ve come in response to your Lonely Hearts ad,” he says.
The widow is puzzled, okay. And it shows on her face.
“I have no arms, Hon, so I sure won’t beat you,” he says. “No legs, so I cannot – surely – run around on you.”
“What about the other, you know, real passion in the bedroom?,” she asks him.
Big smile.
“How do you think I rang the doorbell?”
Meeting P.J. was a definite highlight. Met a plenitude of never seen before but often remembered in-laws and some complete strangers I’d never heard of. Liked them, too. Not just making that up. Managed to be simultaneously miserable and frequently happy at the same time.
Miserable was my first visitation in some sixty-five years. Wish it had been much much longer.
I was twelve (12), the size of a grown man, immature and there I was staring at my grandmother Welch.
Seen her once before when we’d driven up state to the insane asylum in Wingdale where she’d been all my life. I was still little then and now this.
Sixty-five years ago, 1957, I took one look at the dear departed and burst out into laughter. I was literally hysterical and so I raced out the back door of the Cargain Funeral Home, Carmel, New York.
2024. A brother, an uncle and a grandfather walk into a small quiet room at Kenneth W. Poe Funeral & Cremation Service, Charlotte, North Carolina. We each took one look at Hank and then twirled like a precision drill team, started bawling in unison and fled the room. Still don’t understand how we fit through the door at the same time.
The first look at your dead grandson will blow right through you like an explosive shell the size of a garbage can.
And at the church, when you see him again, his passing even more difficult.
Because now you know it’s true.
That’s Hank alright.
Dead.
I remember thinking, damn, after all that dental work, too. He had a great smile.
But what always impressed me was his eye brows. Which he could work like Groucho Marx.
I remember thinking, I wish Hank could be here.
Another thing – you would hear this a lot – people were always wondering what Hank was thinking. That smart, that quiet, you know it had to be something interesting. Like when you’d catch him looking at the sky. Squinting with interest. And you’d look and not see anything.
Just that quizzical look across the dining room table.
I’d just finished listening to ‘Horseman, Pass By.’ Larry McMurtry fictionalizes his boyhood visit to his grandfather’s casket and I couldn’t help wondering why I was doing this backwards.
Then a week after Hank’s death, the next great marathoner, Kelvin Kiptum, just twenty-four, was killed in a car crash. That didn’t seem real either. Like Prefontaine’s demise.
And I saw a piece by Andy Hardt which somehow explained to me why I had that big hole in my gut. He was talking about a Kenyan athlete but I changed his name to Hank.
Instead, this is an obituary for a part of us, for the dreams we placed on this unique individual, as part of or in lieu of our dreams for ourselves and the world, and which have vanished, suddenly, into unreality. Think of it as a coping mechanism.
There are at least three reasons why one might grieve a death:
1) Sadness for the individual and their loved ones
2) Loss of time spent with the person
3) Loss of potential
If you are a family member or personal friend, the first two features are surely the most important. For most of the rest of us, speaking honestly and selfishly, it is the third factor which predominates.
What we have lost–again, speaking honestly and selfishly as an observer from afar–is the promise of his talent and the chance to see it fully realized, to bask in a potential with unknown limits and eventually see and experience those limits, to predict and anticipate Hank Magan’s career, and then to see the results borne out as reality.
(2/20/2024) on LetsRun.com
I am old and he was so young.
To be completely honest, I was kinda hoping Hank would become a documentary filmmaker and hook up with a beautiful French girl and together they’d produce an acclaimed miniseries about moi for PBS.
He could’ve done it. He was that smart.
Hard wooden pews, plain wooden box. Two hours early. The first hour the family gets to view the body alone together. Grandmothers running fingers through his hair. Second hour, mourners come in and hug everybody in the front row.
I am sitting in the second row. Where I thought a better option would be to set a ship on fire and float it out to sea. Maybe a fiery pyre with a painted pinto horse and a feathery war bonnet.
One young woman dressed entirely in black except for a pair of Air Jordans in Tar Heel blue & white.
My shoes were black, my socks, my briefs, at least I wasn’t hysterical.
Forgot to bring my glasses, so I was unable to read the hymnal.
Didn’t sing Hymn No. 451 “Be Thou My Vision.” Probably best, I was in a croaking mood.
But the next part I knew by heart.
Psalm (in unison)
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
3 He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.
What, no bag pipes?!
Signs Of Teen Depression
Four out of five teens who attempt suicide have given clear warning signs as to their intentions.
Common warning signs of depression are:
- Sadness that lasts most of the day
- Crankiness and irritability
- Inability to have fun doing things that used to be fun
- Acting younger than their age
- Feeling tired all the time
- Trouble sleeping through the night
- Changes in appetite
- Drop in grades
- Lack of empathy
- Lack of motivation
- Low self-esteem
Depression is a disease and it is tricky.
Bryant Henry “Hank” Magan
February 4, 2024
CHARLOTTE – On Sunday, February 4, 2024, Stacy and Jonathan Magan lost their beautiful son, Hank to a long-fought battle with depression. Jon David and Skip lost a beloved brother whose puckish sense of humor brought levity to the household even in the darkest of times.
Hank was a self-proclaimed math nerd, a moniker he wore with pride. He recently wrote “mathematics and computer science inspire awe in me. It’s just super interesting how things appear so complicated yet fit together perfectly. Despite appearing manmade and contrived it’s the basis for so many things in the natural world. The applications are inifinite…”
His hobbies included crafting custom keyboards and solving coding challenges. He was an active leader on the Yeti Robotics Competition team. The time he spent in the workshop crafting and programming robots with his team were truly some of the best days of his short life. Through outreach programs with Queen City Robotics Hank tutored and coached middle and elementary school students in programming and summer Lego robotics camps. He lit up while being around kids and teaching them. In 2021 he received at Catalyst Award from NCSSM Summer Ventures Program for recognition of strong performance in research. He was passionate about promoting STEM education to anyone. Hank was president of the Myers Park Computer Science Honor Society.
He was a student at Eastover Elementary and Alexander Graham Middle School. Hank graduated in the top of his class at Myers Park High School while earning an IB diploma in 2023. During his senior year he also received a Certificate of Completion for the online program with the North Carolina School of Science and Mathematics. He received a perfect score of 36 on the ACT an achievement that only 0.25% of ACT test takers earn. Hank truly loved learning and was passionate about his goals for higher education. He recently received an invitation to interview with the admissions office at Stanford. After some prodding he reluctantly admitted that he was “manifesting Dartmouth”. It is heartbreaking to all who love him that we will never know where his path might have led. Our family will forever be grateful to the counselors, teachers and administrators at MPHS who stood by him during his treatment for depression and anxiety offering support and encouragement.
Hank and his brothers spent their formative faith years at First Presbyterian Church in Charlotte. It was there that he confirmed his faith in the 8th grade, a memory his mother holds dear. In his faith statement he chose to write about Deuteronomy 31:6 Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you: he will never leave you or forsake you. Hank went on to write this passage “encapsulates the main idea of my faith. He will never leave you. He forgives.”
Hank was the kind of friend who could sit quietly with you, without any judgement while actively listening with genuine concern for his friend. He had a great capacity for forming deep bonds with those in his life. Hank was a tender and sensitive soul. The community at Hopeway became an extension of his family this past year. He received the greatest care and love during his treatment programs. They are grieving with us. Our family saw significant improvement in his condition and value the exceptional programs provided for our darling boy.
Hank’s dad was especially proud of his natural athletic ability and will treasure memories of playing soccer, football, baseball, golf, and lately even pickleball. It didn’t matter whatever he did, he did it well. We will forever remember his smart, funny, and intrepid personality. He loved music, art, and animals.
Hank is survived by his parents, Stacy and Jonathan Magan; his brothers, J.D. and Skip Magan; his grandmothers, Beverly Rowse, Peggy Welch and her husband, Jack; his aunts and uncles Kerriden Fortin and husband, Ed, Paul Henry Magan, Jr. and wife Diane, Gary Bryant and wife Nikki. Also surviving are his cousins, Alex Breunig and husband, Cody, Matt Cobuzzi, Christopher Magan and wife, Kristen, Lindsey Magan, Meaghan Smus and James and Bristol Bryant. And of course, his adored family pets Springer Spaniels, Winston and Lady and cats, Princess Jun-Jun and Queen Cinnaminna.
Funeral Services were held at 2:00 PM on Wednesday, February 14, 2024, at Myers Park United Methodist Church, 1501 Queens Road, Charlotte, NC. The family received friends an hour before the service at the church and following the service in Jubilee Hall.
In lieu of flowers, memorials may be offered in memory of Hank to Hopeway – Making HOPE tangible by inspiring mental wellness for all. 1717 Sharon Road West, Charlotte, NC 28210 or https://hopeway.org/giving-is-healing
Arrangements were in the care of Kenneth W. Poe Funeral & Cremation Service, 1321 Berkeley Ave., Charlotte, NC 28204; (704) 641-7606. Online condolences may be shared at www.kennethpoeservices.com.
