That is terrible news. The time of year, the person(Tony being such a respected individual) and it being his son.
For whatever reason, when a parent loses a child I recall the scene in Lord of the Rings when the King, talking to Gandalf, says "No parent should have to bury their child."
Not to try to read too much, but if true, suicide is infinitely worse, because you have to think it was no coincidence his son timed this when Tony was close to the potential pinnacle of his professional career.
Just a horrible thing for him to have to deal with.
I haven't heard any speculation on the cause of death. My understanding is they won't know anything until they get the autopsy report. It's just a terrible thing to happen to the Dungy family. I was really looking forward to the Seahawks game this Saturday with the Colts and now it just doesn't seem to matter.
Dungy, wife need to find source of enduring strength
By Len Pasquarelli
ESPN.com
http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/column...len&id=2268643
I have watched my parents bury two of my four siblings, the most recent just six weeks ago, when we laid to rest my brother. He would have celebrated a birthday on Thursday. I have witnessed the raw emotion that accompanies such a tragic event.
So when the ESPN.com editors dispatched an e-mail Thursday morning, seeking a reactionary column to the death of James Dungy, the 18-year-old son of Indianapolis Colts coach Tony Dungy and his wife, Lauren, I approached the laptop keyboard with this firsthand reality: Not even the greatest literary giants of this or any other time are capable of crafting words sufficient to assuage the profound grief that is inherent to the passing of any parent's child.
Admittedly more hack than wordsmith am I, so there isn't a single syllable of this column that can adequately console the Dungy family on their loss, or even remotely make sense of the situation. Editors have a pet term, "weighing in," on such stories. But words, even the sort of eloquent prose of which I'm rarely capable, carry little gravitas at these times.
To say nothing, though, in such cases is to essentially be as hollow as the hollow words themselves, and so some sincere effort is surely in order.
There is a devastating incongruity that transpires when the circle of life suddenly comes unraveled, and parents are called upon to bid an early farewell to a child. The celebrity imposed upon Tony Dungy and his family because of his station in life will neither lessen nor exacerbate what certainly must be the most painful experience imaginable.
Less than a week ago, Dungy presided over a group of men poised on the cusp of football immortality. On Thursday, he was forced to identify a young man he fathered and, in so doing, to confront his own mortality. It is, to be sure, an exercise in which a parent must plumb the depths of emotion and dip deep into the reservoir of faith.
There were times 14 years ago, when my youngest brother died in an accident, when I saw my parents, who like Tony and Lauren Dungy are people of great faith and values, question everything. There were times, indeed, when I wondered whether they could survive such a tragedy. And then, last month, the emotions were revisited, and I can tell you this: For the first few days, a parent doesn't go from hour to hour, but rather lives from one breath to the next, because the pain is so psychologically debilitating.
Benumbing does not begin to describe the experience. Truth be told, a parent who loses a child never has the hurt scarred, never grows a callous over the wound. Instead, they must lean on each other and, even more so, on faith. And must, although seemingly impossible in the moment, find some source of enduring strength.
From the moment I first met Tony Dungy, as an undrafted free agent college player with the Pittsburgh Steelers in 1977, I have known him to be a strong man. His principles and his values are deep-rooted, unwavering and, blessedly, real. There is nothing feigned, manufactured or ersatz about the man. What you see publicly is, trust me, what you get in the private moments as well.
This is how I feel about Tony Dungy the man: Were he to have become a teacher, his likely vocation had he not moved into coaching after his brief playing career, his impact might have been every inch as significant as it is now. Had he pursued a career as, say, a salesman or stockbroker or an attorney, Dungy would have been the same man he is today, albeit with much less celebrity. But, probably, no less effective.
Strong people of faith are not defined by what they do for a living but, rather, how they live what they do. Tony Dungy is one of those people.
The last time I saw Tony Dungy, on Sunday evening at the RCA Dome in Indianapolis, he was handling the Colts' first defeat of the season with characteristic aplomb. And with the outward veneer that most personifies his public image that somehow always supersedes his roiling inner emotions. The 2005 season suddenly blemished, Dungy was upset more by the Colts' spotty performance than by the defeat itself.
Now this most blessed of seasons has come unhinged for Dungy and his family, just three days before Christmas. And I pray, and hope you do, too, that Tony and Lauren Dungy and their four other children can find some semblance of peace and understanding.
It will, no doubt, be a most daunting experience. Lose a football game and there is almost always a make-good opportunity just a week or so removed. Lose a child and a parent, no matter how ideal the child-rearing, experiences a painstaking self-examination. When he recently lost his father, Dungy, unsurprisingly responded with dignity. He will be no less dignified, I'm sure, in responding to the passing of his son.
Which is not to say that Tony and Lauren Dungy, remarkable people in every facet of their lives, won't need considerable support and plenty of prayers. On Thursday morning, some well-intentioned but shortsighted people were wondering how it is that Dungy can even try to get through the rest of this football season.
After having seen the crippling ramifications of a child lost, from an up-close-and-personal perspective, I know there is a more pressing concern. And that's why, at some private moment, at a quiet and contemplative time on Thursday, you would do well to maybe whisper a prayer that Tony and Lauren Dungy find the faith and the strength to just get through the next few days.
He is a great football coach. Dungy, I can assure you, is an even better man, and he should be in our thoughts.
Family has always been bigger for Dungy
By Chris Mortensen
ESPN.com
http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/column...ris&id=2268721
When I woke up this morning, I had a lot on my plate. Now, I have no taste for any of it. Not the NFL games. Not the Pro Bowl teams. Not rumors about coaches and executives on the hot seat. Not Christmas.
All I have is a broken heart for Tony and Lauren Dungy, parents of five children. Their eldest son, James, was found dead at 18 years old in his apartment near Tampa, Fla., this morning.
Who cares now that Dungy's Indianapolis Colts are 13-1 and not 14-0?
Tragedies and death happen all too frequently in our lives. There's just something about this tragedy that feels so raw and so hurtful that words cannot describe the emotions and grief. And it wasn't even my child.
Anybody who knows Tony Dungy understands these emotions. When I broke the news by telephone to Tom Jackson, my ESPN colleague, we could not disguise our broken voices and tears. I imagine there have been many of us around this league at every level feeling the same lows.
Of all of the wonderful people in the NFL, no man is more wonderful than Dungy. He's the role model in this league, but he's really a model who transcends the game. His football team means a lot to him. His faith and his family mean more, which is why this loss cannot be compared to any other Dungy has experienced.
I'll never forget the day Dungy was fired as the coach of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. When I had the opportunity to speak to him, he was doing fine, which was no surprise. His greatest concern was for his children, who were struggling with the rejection and the uncertainties that surrounded their future. James was about 13 or 14 at the time.
It reminded me of some wisdom that George Young, the late general manager of the New York Giants, imparted on me during this time of year, when we have to speculate and report on people's job security.
"Just remember to show some compassion," Young said. "When you talk about firing a coach, you're not talking about how it affects one man. You're talking about how it impacts 14 families -- the family of every assistant coach. You're talking about 30, 40, 50 people and a lot of them are children."
We sometimes fall short of that compassion. We simply attach a name to a team and a win-loss record. We almost never attach the hearts.
With Tony Dungy, it's always been easy to attach the heart, which is why it is broken today.
That's it. That's really all I can write about for now. Instead, I'll resume praying for this family.
You know, there are a handful of individuals in professional sport who carry themselves with great class, humility, and grace. DRob is on that list. Dungy is certainly another.
My heart and prayers go out to the Dungy family. There's nothing worse in life than losing a child. The Pasquarelli piece was spot on. There are no words.
Rumors are that he impregnated some little chica and wanted to marry her, but she said no...
Anything is possible as far as the outcome of death. I was shocked when I found out. It must make it extremely painly for Dungy's family to go through this at a time where famalies get together. My deepest symapathies go out to the entire Dungy family.
Bailey, a spokesman for the Hillsborough Medical Examiner, said an autopsy to determine the cause of death will not be completed until Friday at the earliest.
The St. Petersburg Times quoted Bailey as saying that Dungy's death was "apparently a suicide."
Asked by Reuters about whether it was a suicide, Bailey said, "I know of nothing to conflict with that," adding that the cause of death would not be conclusive until the autopsy was finished.
I can't confirm that this is James Dungy's MySpace page but if you read the first comment it sure looks like it is...
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm...endID=41899442
EDIT: They took it down right after I linked it...
Yeah I saw it too. And now it's down. That was weird.
Probably took it down as part of the inquest.
Well, he didn't paint himself in the greatest light if that was actually his myspace. It was all about "gangsta" type stuff ... guns, marijuana, partying, etc. One thing was weird was that the background had Oakland Raiders and Randy Moss stuff.
18-year old males are en led to a certain amount of assholishness. Kinda comes with the territory.
If the suicide implication is true, clearly he didn't really think he was all that and was trying to put on a front.
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