By Maureen Gilmer, Riley Children’s Health senior writer, mgilmer1@iuhealth.org
It was a short post on Riley Children’s social media pages several weeks ago that caught the attention of a Riley team member, who shared it with her former stepfather.
What came next was a beautiful reunion for a family who lost a son and brother 27 years ago and the volunteer team that keeps the trains running in the Riley Outpatient Center.
The Riley Express is dedicated to a little boy named Michael Feeser. Michael was 12 when he passed away at Riley back in 1997. The model train, which formerly sat in Union Station in Downtown Indianapolis, was donated to Riley a few years after Michael died, and a plaque was installed in his memory.
Every year on June 24, Michael’s brother David comes to Riley to push the button on that train display and watch it go round and round while memories circle in his mind of his little brother and the last day they spent together.
On June 24, 1997, Michael, the youngest of five children born to Mark and Nancy Feeser, got to spend the day with David, then 16, and David’s friends, swimming and playing Mario Kart.
Later that evening, David was out with his friends, and Michael was home with his parents when he began having trouble breathing. Michael suffered from asthma, and the Feesers assumed it was an asthma attack, calling for an ambulance while they frantically did CPR.
Michael was taken to a northside hospital first, then transferred to Riley Hospital for Children, where doctors tried everything to give him a chance, but his brain had been deprived of oxygen for too long.
A week after he was rushed to the hospital, Michael passed away without ever regaining consciousness. The cause was sudden pneumothorax, also known as a collapsed lung. It can happen without warning and without an obvious cause.
“On July 3, he took his last breath,” David said. “We had all been living there that week, and we all had the chance to say goodbye.”
The grief that comes with losing a child is a trauma unimaginable to most, but the Feeser family found comfort in their faith and in the love they felt from the team who cared for Michael, his dad said as he reminisced earlier this month with family members and Dr. Richard Schreiner, former physician-in-chief at Riley and a family friend.
It was just a few months after his son had died that Mark Feeser was back at Riley visiting the child of a friend and ran into Dr. Schreiner.
Dr. Schreiner recalled seeing his friend in the hallway and commenting on how difficult it must be to return to the hospital.
As he shared the story with his wife and oldest son Joe, Mark Feeser said actually it was comforting to be back. Just like it was on this day when they got to meet the volunteer, Ed Rieskamp, who keeps the Riley Express running.
“Everyone was so kind to us,” Mark Feeser said. “When Michael passed, it was like the Riley Hospital staff lost Michael, too. They felt it. It was shared grief.”
That might sound strange to some, he acknowledged, “but it was so comforting to know that he counted, that he mattered.”
Listening to his friend recount this interaction, Dr. Schreiner weighed in: “It might sound strange to people outside of Riley, but not to people here. There are so many stories out there like this, and it’s important for younger Riley caregivers to realize that everything they do is so impactful.”
That’s why David Feeser had to reach out when he saw the original post about Rieskamp and his diligence in maintaining the popular train.
“That train set is very special to my family and me,” David Feeser wrote in his original email. “The patient to whom it is dedicated is my little brother, Michael Gavin Feeser. He got sick on the night of June 24, 1997, and died a week later. Every year on that date, I go down to the train set and push the button and watch it for many minutes. Now I bring my daughter down there and she presses the buttons. I had no idea how it was maintained and taken care of, especially the last couple of years because there have been fun games to play … and fun characters all around the train model. … I would love to meet (Ed) and thank him. He has no idea what his kindness … means to my family.”
For his part, Rieskamp gets goosebumps just thinking about the impact the train has on not just this family, but all the families who come to Riley and find a moment’s pleasure watching the train and seeing what new items have popped up within its glass case.
“It’s an incredible feeling,” he said.
On this day, the Feeser family added a couple of toy Mario Kart figures in memory of Michael, and David hid his St. Christopher medal in one of the tunnels.
As brothers, David said he and Michael were competitive most days – Michael played football and hockey and loved Mario Kart – but at night, on the bunkbeds in the bedroom they shared, they would lie awake, talking and laughing.
Michael loved to laugh, his brother said.
“He was just always smiling, always having a good time, always laughing.”
And because he was the youngest of five kids, he developed a more mature sense of humor, David said.
“He was 12 going on 30. One of his teachers said once that it’s like having another 30-year-old in the classroom because he’s the only one who gets my jokes.”
David Feeser intends to keep returning to Riley every June 24 to push the train button and remember the fun he and his little brother had on that day.
“That was our day. It was a gift.”
Photos submitted and by Mike Dickbernd, IU Health visual journalist, mdickbernd@iuhealth.org