You didn’t have to know Crey long to understand why people loved him. Crey was the kind of person who walked into a room and lifted the energy without even trying. From the time he was little, he was always happy. He was the kid with the constant grin. That joy stayed with him throughout his life, earning him the nickname “Chuckle Head” from those who loved him most.

From the time he was little, he was always moving. He was always outside, always riding something with wheels. We bought him his first bike when he turned one, and he never looked back. He grew up riding bikes, four-wheelers, and eventually motorcycles. He was fearless but skilled, known around town for the long wheelies he could ride through streets and trails. One time he rode a wheelie on his mountain bike for miles. People called him the “wheelie king,” and it stuck.

Crey didn’t just live fast. He worked hard too. He was a self-taught mechanic who loved figuring things out with his hands. He had recently landed a job as a diesel mechanic and was excited about that new chapter. He had big plans and the work ethic to back them up.

But the thing that stands out most is how quietly kind he was. He would fix cars after hours for free, carry in groceries for a widow, or take a neighbor on a ride when they were having a bad day. He didn’t talk about the things he did for others. He just did them.

On the Fourth of July, one of our family’s favorite holidays, we were celebrating at the park when Crey decided to go for a ride on his bullet bike. I had a bad feeling, so I tracked his location. I saw he had stopped at a gas station and called to check in. We talked for a few minutes and I told him I loved him. That was the last time I spoke to him.

About forty minutes later, his location stopped. He didn’t answer my calls or texts. My daughter found a post online about a motorcycle accident near Zion. No one would give us any details about the accident or even if he was involved that night. The next day, we got the call. Crey had died from his injuries. There were no witnesses, so we don’t know what happened.

Our family will never be the same. The grief is heavy. There are so many things he should still be here for.

If you are reading this, please remember that even if you are skilled and even if you are cautious, accidents happen. Whether you drive a car or ride a bike, pay attention. Look twice. Give space. It only takes a second to change everything.