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Jeremy Crapo's Family Ties, part 2
SNO-X Magazine Vol 6, No 5, Spring 2008
Words by Vince Castellanos
Images by the Crapo family and Wayne Davis

Death
Kurtis wasn’t with Jeremy on July 12, 2006.
After work, Jeremy took a ride in the dunes. “I talked to him right before he left,” remembers Shaun.
“He was packing up his bike and tried to get me to go, but I couldn’t.” After a couple of hours riding, the 28-year-old and his friends turned for home as dusk approached and the evening air cooled. Leading the group like he often did, Jeremy traveled down a hill and into a corner. At that exact moment, young Michael Pacheco rode into the turn from the opposite direction.
“It’s the only blind spot in the area,” says Shaun. “It’s a weird corner.” Jeremy and Pacheco had a horrendous collision, killing Jeremy.
“I got a call and was told to come down to the dunes,” David says. “When I got there, one of the paramedics said, ‘I wish I could give you good news, but he’s gone.’”
David first phoned Kurtis. “He said that Jeremy had an accident and didn’t make it,” says Kurtis. “I was glad he was up front about it, but I was shocked. I went to the dunes right away, but I couldn’t even remember how to get dressed. The rest is a blur.”
“You wonder how things might’ve been different,” says Shaun. “Would the accident have happened if I’d been out there with him?”
Kurtis had to tell Lindsay that her husband had died. “That was so hard,” he says. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the kids. When I had trouble getting anything out of my mouth, she knew.”
Kurtis fell into a deep depression. “At first, he clung to the kids and me and didn’t want us out of sight,” says Emily. “Then there were days he could barely get out of bed.”
“There was probably a two week period where I didn’t leave the house,” Kurtis says. “I didn’t talk. We were practically the same age and we did everything together. It was horrible without him.”
Kurtis found some solace fly fishing, spending hours alone casting on the local rivers the brothers had enjoyed. The water offered a brief reprieve, but he couldn’t escape the emptiness he felt. While Kurtis lost a best friend, Shaun lost a mentor. Jeremy was Shaun’s biggest cheerleader, and the two spoke frequently during racing seasons. “He’d always call to give me advice,” Shaun says. “He pushed me to be better, and I learned so much from him. Racing that first year was especially tough, but it’s what Jeremy would’ve wanted. Now I do it for him; it’s his remembrance.”
Neither Kurtis nor Shaun trained much in the months following Jeremy’s death, but both returned to the National series in 2006-07. “I thought Kurtis needed to go racing,” says Emily. “But it was so hard; it was the toughest winter we’ve had. He’d call twelve times a day just to hear our voices, but he didn’t have much to say. Life was a mess, everything was about Jeremy.”

Life
Though Kurtis and Shaun struggled back in Minnesota, both were grateful for the comfort they received from teammates past and present. And even in the worst days immediately following Jeremy’s passing, the Crapo family was buoyed by an outpouring of support.
“The day after [Jeremy’s death], our driveway was packed with people bringing food, doing chores and coming over to see how we were holding up,” says Mikael. “At the viewing and funeral, the director said he’d never seen so many people. They had to shut the doors and turn folks away. Hundreds of people came and there wasn’t a seat in the house. Seeing how many people cared really helped me.”
Among those at the funeral was Michael Pacheco, the 18-year-old involved in Jeremy’s crash. Pacheco had been released from the hospital just that morning. “He shook my hand and I said, ‘I’m so glad you’re OK,’” Patsy says, fighting back tears. “I was glad he came.”
“The support in this little valley was incredible,” says David. “And so was the support from the snowmobile community; the number of people we heard from was overwhelming.”
Many racers and industry people attended the funeral. “Aaron Christensen and I hopped in the car and drove from Alberta,” Ryan Simons says, downplaying the fact that the trip was 16 hours each way. “You can’t find a nicer family. I didn’t know Jeremy very well, but I have so much respect for them. I hated the circumstances, but I was pumped to be there for them.”
While the friendly faces provided comfort, few could comprehend what the family faced. “Neighbors of ours lost a child a couple of years before Jeremy passed,” Patsy says. “We spent time with them and I thought we had an idea of what they were going through. But you don’t. Until it happens to you, there’s no way to understand.”
Guidance came from those with their own tragedies; Polaris Race Director Tom Rager sought David out at the 2006 Duluth National. “I could see they were having a hard time, and of course they would be,” says Rager, whose daughter, Tracey, died eight years ago. “Some of the best things for my wife and me were when people in similar situations talked to us. It’s not something that ever goes away, but you learn there are things that help you through it.”
“I just told them to share experiences, because they aren’t isolated at all,” says Jesse Strege, who attended Jeremy’s funeral with Robbie Malinoski. Strege’s 19-year-old brother Dustin was killed when Jesse was 24. “There are other families who have gone through it, and talking to them can help. When my brother died, we were sad for so long. But you should remain positive and look at things in a positive light, because those who pass have such a great impact on people while they’re here.”
The Crapos also supported one another. “It’s a good thing we’re all so close because we could talk to anyone about it,” Emily says. “We shared our lives with Jeremy and had spent so much time together that we didn’t have any regrets.”
The family narrowly avoided another tragedy in late summer ’07. Kurtis was riding in the dunes with dusk approaching and the evening air cooling when he went for a double. “I misjudged it horribly,” Kurtis says of his massive over-jump. “I knew it was bad the moment I left the lip and thought I’d be lucky to live.”
Kurtis fell far to flat, landing on his feet before collapsing. His partners – including friend Kevin Morris, who had been with Jeremy on his last ride – raced to his side. Kurtis never lost consciousness and immediately diagnosed his condition.
“I knew I broke both legs, and it was obvious one was compounded,” he says.
Crapo was carrying his cell phone, but he had no service in the gully in which he crashed. The job of calling David fell to Morris. “Kevin told me Kurtis had a wreck, and it scared me to death; I just went white as a sheet,” David recalls. “He said Kurt had two broken legs, but they don’t want to give you bad news. After Jeremy I worried it might be worse.” Lifeflight reached Kurtis in eleven minutes, and the downed rider cracked jokes to lighten the grim mood. “He apologized to the paramedics for gaining weight over the summer because it made him harder to carry,” Patsy says. “Hospital staff said they had never seen someone in his condition be so pleasant. I know he stayed so calm because Jeremy was with him.”
“After everything my parents had been through, this was the last thing they needed,” Kurtis says. “I had to make sure they knew I’d be all right.”
Kurtis isn’t all right yet, but he’s getting there. He broke his right femur and suffered a compounded tibia/fibula in his left leg. He spent five days in the hospital, weeks in a wheelchair and a month on crutches before he could walk again. Now, though, he’s back riding, hunting and playing with his three kids.
“He’s got a lot going on and he loves it all,” says Emily. “He’s happy, and he’s enjoying life again.”

Together
On a crisp February morning about eighteen months after Jeremy’s death and less than six months since his own accident, Kurtis tools around St. Anthony behind the wheel of his father’s Jeep. Humble homes hide behind towering snow banks and snowmobile tracks crisscross side streets.
Like a lot of rural towns, St. Anthony’s business district is dotted with boarded-up buildings and marked by disrepair. By contrast, the Crapos are flourishing: They now have about 25,000 acres of dry and irrigated farm land (potatoes are grown on a third of it), 400 head of cattle, 40 spud cellars, a trucking business and some 200 employees. Sun-Glo, the family potato company, ships spuds to 48 states.
Nine Crapos share ownership of the various ventures. “Our arrangement wouldn’t work for a lot of families, but we’re unique and proud of it,” David says from the Jeep’s backseat. Each person oversees a different business, and David leads the trucking operation, which has grown from ten trucks in 1990 to about fifty haulers today. David and Patsy’s children were all active in the endeavors from an early age – there are pictures of Kimberly piloting a rig around town when she was barely 13 and of Shaun driving a combine by age 10. “We made ‘em work for their toys,” David says with a laugh.
“Raising a family around farming is priceless; there’s so much value in it,” says Kurtis. “I want my kids involved in this. And for what I like to do, the area is perfect.”
It’s easy to see why. Kurtis and Emily have views of the Tetons from their house. Mikael and his wife Jenna; Kimberly; and Shaun and his wife Alynn all live within a mile of each other and just down the road from David and Patsy, though Shaun and Alynn are moving a couple of miles away to a home overlooking the Tetons and Juniper range. Physical reminders of Jeremy’s influence are everywhere: At Sun-Glo, David’s brother Bruce proudly points out new equipment that Jeremy wired. The budding electrician also wired and maintained potato cellars and irrigation pivots crucial to watering the dry soil. His siblings drafted him into duty, too; he worked in most of their homes.
A few years ago, David and Patsy built a great room to accommodate their expanding family, and Jeremy wired the addition
. Sitting in the new dining room after a meal of soup and – what else? – potatoes, siblings and spouses sort through piles of photos while eight of the 10 Crapo grandkids dart between rooms.
“When we lost Jeremy, I spent months going through photos; it was something I was obsessed with,” David says, holding an old magazine clipping showing Jeremy jumping the big double at the Duluth National. “I’m so glad we kept all of these.”
The gathering is nothing new; the brood regularly convenes at David and Patsy’s. “It helps that we live so close to each other,” Mikael says. “We all end up at our folks’ place at the same time about twice a week. It’s great because our kids are always together; the cousins see each other every day.”
In a corner of David and Patsy’s living room stands a family tree, a gift from Mikael and Jenna. Made from real branches, each leaf represents a different family member.
A quote from author Michael Crichton is inscribed at the tree’s base: “If you don’t know your family’s history, you don’t know anything.”

The Crapos know some things. As merry voices fill the room that Jeremy lit, the family’s next generation races around furniture – running, crying and laughing together. Always together.